#I had been intending to draw this design for a while but procrastination is a powerful beast

[daily-whistlepaw]

daily whistlepaw until fae becomes PoV day 1341

drew @lesbianambermoon 's whistlepaw design, as requested by @owlblaze

[midnights-reign-au]

Small Update!

Hi everyone! Hope you're doin well!

As always, thanks for the support on my artwork here, it means a lot even when there's big breaks between posts. I'm currently transitioning from school into summer work, and haven't gotten around to the few asks sitting in my inbox. This is where update 1 comes in!

I love the idea of an "ask the cast", the problem is drawing the answers turned out to be more of a task than originally intended. I could not manage or enjoy drawing comics because I felt like I had to, not that I wanted to. So, answers from now on will mainly be in text/roleplay type writing. If you questions are for me, the creator, and you want to see certain characters/outfits/designs (i.e. "Can we see what Celestia looks like here"), still feel free to ask those, as I feel more confident following through on those drawings. So sorry for people who were expecting drawings, and for keeping you all waiting, but I think this will be a much quicker way to both interact with the cast and give me more time to draw what I want for the AU!

Second update! While art for Midnight's Reign has not been at the forefront of my mind, the main fanfiction itself is. The project's word count has quickly surpassed 10k words, and is around 40 pages. And while that may seem like a lot, it very much has a long way to go before being fully done! In an attempt to keep my motivations on the project high, I'll begin to release chapters on my Ao3 account some point this summer (I don't want to make a solid date yet because I WILL begin to procrastinate on it).

Thanks for your patience, your love, and all your support for Midnight's Reign. Here's to hoping for some great things moving forward!! <3

[icewindandboringhorror]

Another set of responding to asks lol.. As usual I have them numbered and will also write out the ask in the text, especially since the screencaps are all blurry and taken at various times/compiled together badly and probably hard to read ghghhggh..... answers under the read more ~ 

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

1. "Hi I don't mean to bother you at all, but I was wondering where you get your rocking horse shoes? (I think thats what they're called) I've been looking everywhere and I can't seem to find any :(( "

I don’t entirely remember, since I got them like 6 or 7 years ago.. I think maybe at some point that place ‘bodyline’ or something had some cheap ones? But I don’t see them on the site anymore, they were like $50 or $60. Now when I google it I can only find these insane like $600 ones from vivian westwood or whoever, or ones that are platform shoes but not necessarily the same type. Maybe you could find some on aliexpress or ebay or something? Usually you have to use weirdly specific search terms and look for a while, but you can often find stuff like that on those sites. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help!!! 

2. "I've been sick for over a month and my doctor tested me - everything came back fine. After some discussion it appears that my ptsd symptoms came back and the stress on my body is making me fatigued, sick and dizzy. I don't want to say that this could be similar to you situation, but if you have a therapist or someone to talk to about any stresses/your sickness, it might help relieve the pressure a bit. Good luck, I'm so sorry you feel so unwell"

Thank you for sharing! Yeah, I think stress definitely plays a part in why I feel sick so often. Currently I’m not still having the same problem I was having a few months ago when you sent this, so that’s good at least!! 

3. “Hi! Do you plan to ever have more sculptures for sale? Or would you do commissions? I haven't seen any in a while but wanted to buy one! :-O”

I have plenty that I want to sell, I guess it’s just hard for me to get set up. Since so much of the reason I procrastinate selling stuff is because I hate the stress of deciding on a price, I’ve thought for a while now that maybe I can just auction them (so I just set a base price, but people bid whatever they feel is fair and I don’t have to decide myself). But I’m just not sure of a good way to do that.. Ebay has auctions, but I don’t want random strangers buying them, I’d rather stick to just the pool of people who follow my art blog and are already familiar with my sculptures or etc. I could do them on here ?? (like, ‘reply to this post to bid, bids close 8am EST, whoever said the highest number sends the money through paypal and then I send the sculpture’ sort of thing???)   But I’m not sure if it’s legal to sell stuff through tumblr, or if there could be any other problems with doing it so ‘unofficially’ like that.. I don’t know, I have a vague idea, I’m just having trouble deciding the best way to set up something! I do want to sell some soon though, if I live through the pandemic and anything ever goes back to normal, of course (I wouldn’t want to be having to leave the house to ship stuff in the mail right now). 

As for commissions, I have actually done sculpture commissions for friends a few times, so I feel confident-ish that I’d be able to do something like that, but I also wouldn’t want to get overwhelmed since it takes a lot of work. Custom sculptures may also be more expensive, and again.. I always feel guilty and strange about pricing. I’ve thought about doing very limited sculpture commissions though (like, maybe just one at a time, first come first serve or something..?). If it seems like there’s actual interest in that sort of thing, I could definitely consider doing it in the future! 

4. " *picks up that smol blue kid and throws them across the room* "

ghgh .. the smallness is an advantage... they could just skitter back down your arm like a tiny squirrel the second you tried to pick them up.. Ythrili survival strategy is to be too small to catch in the first place 

(also forgive every sketch in this post, my screen that you can draw on broke, so I’m either drawing stuff in ms paint with a mouse, or drawing stuff on paper and coloring it in firealpaca also with a mouse ghghh.. not going to look Good)

5. "it sounds like you feel pressure to only post good content on the internet, and so you end up psyching yourself out of posting at all. Am I on the right track? "

Not necessarily, like I mentioned in the tags I think it’s more just that everything is complicated by my brain. I can’t just do something effortlessly. Whether it’s for an audience or not, I get caught up on every little detail and adding so much complexity to everything that all tasks take me longer than they take other people lol. I think I just tend to take everything very seriously?? 

Like for example, I’m often accused of ‘turning things into a discussion’ when someone was just intending to make an off-handed remark, because if someone is bringing up a topic to discuss, I end up engaging with it 100% and putting full effort into it, and it’s hard for me to be ‘’casual’’ about pretty much anything (so if someone was like ‘My day yesterday was a bit weird’ I wouldn’t be able to just respond ‘aw man, that sucks’, I would just be like ‘Weird how? what happened? what made it weird? Are you okay now? Are things still weird? Have you found a solution?’ etc. etc.). I was also bad at essays/open answer questions in school (despite usually being great at the class otherwise), because no matter how hard I tried to filter my speech and cut things out, I was always far too long-winded  and would get almost too engaged with the topic and lose the clear cut thought organization and focus that you’re supposed to have I guess. Even like, playing video games or something that’s supposed to be relaxing, I can’t just ‘jump into them’ and do whatever, usually any game I play (large ones at least, small 25 minute  point and click adventure games don’t count of course), I have 7 - 10 pages of notes, do hours of research, look up most of the main spoilers, plan out and organize exactly how I’m going to play it and this and that, etc. lol... 

So, that personality trait carries over into posting things online as well, I can’t just type something out quickly and hit ‘post’ without a second thought. Social media is hard for me because you’re supposed to use it casually, but I spend a long time re-reading drafted posts, thinking about them, etc. etc., and end up never actually getting around to posting anything. It’s not that I’m perfectionist about it and want it to be ‘good’ or appear a certain way, it’s just that my mind becomes preoccupied with things I guess.  I’m a natural information gatherer, part of my natural way of processing things is to learn everything possible before acting, and I want to make sure I’ve fully thought about everything always, and know as much as I can (so I wouldn’t want to publicly say something without giving it a lot of consideration first, or post a picture without really thinking about if I want to post it, what my reasons behind posting it are (like if I’m posting something just for a validation of a certain aspect of myself VS. genuinely because I like it, etc.), if a few months from now I’ll still like that I posted it, etc. lol.. even with like silly cat photos or something, I have to analyze it and be like ‘hmm.. will I still stand by this picture in 4 months? why am I posting it publicly vs, just keeping it privately to myself on my computer? what’s important about it?’ etc. etc. ghgjhgjh.. like.. shut up lol.)

ANYWAY, yeah, I don’t know if it’s about wanting online content to be “good”, as much as it’s just like... I take everything way too seriously and am detail-oriented, contemplative, and analytical to a fault, which means it just takes me 10x longer to do basic ‘’simple’’ things that it would for other people. Though I can still be quite quick-thinking and decisive (I don’t often waver back and forth between things too long), it’s usually because I have years of thinking about the same exact things behind me, so I already am very clear on my opinions on stuff, to a point. But when it’s new things I’m less familiar with (like playing a new game, or posting regularly online), I’m still in a phase where I guess I have to give it a lot of thought. I just process things in a different way than other people I guess? Or have some inherent inability to be brief/concise/careless? If you’ve ever read any of my worldbuilding posts (where I usually start off wanting to explain one thing but then have to derail into 400 other misc. details and explanations and it ends up being a novel), then maybe it’s more evident what I mean, where it’s just like... my natural manner of speaking is Too Much.. I guess? Even this answer is winding and rambly, and I feel like other people could have answered this ask in only a few sentences lol.. 

 If any of that makes sense? I don’t know how to describe how I am lol.. I just know it's hard to me to use social media in this ~~casual effortless~~ way most people seem to, since my brain is just inherently incapable of anything ‘’casual’’ or ‘’effortless’’ lol..  T u T ;; 

6. " Hi! I hope this isn't weird to say, I'm designing a race for my DND campaign and some of the aesthetics are a little bit inspired by some of your costumes and makeup designs. You're awesome and your art is awesome so thanks : ) "

Thanks so much, I appreciate it! It’s always cool to hear I can inspire people~ 

(I usually don’t include many compliments in these ask compilation posts, but I always try to include a few, just to let people know that even if I don’t respond to all of them I do see them, and appreciate it!) 

7.  ???

I ended up cropping out this ask and not answering because some of the content was questionable (the reason WHY/how they wanted to make the character) in a way that I didn’t feel like getting into a long thing about, but part of it was relevant to making OCs in my world, so I will just make a quick comment:

I do state that this is a closed world, so I don’t want anyone making OCs of my species or etc. at least not at this point. Once my game is finished (if ever lol), or I write a few books or something, then I feel it would be understandable if people like, made up a background story for their player character and thus maybe could have some form of OC in my world and etc.. So I may be more relaxed on this in the future as I create content that people naturally would want to engage with , but for now, I’m still a very tiny creator with a closed world and it just doesn’t feel the same as like.. making an oc based on some thing in a big TV series or something. My worldbuliding and etc. is still very personal to me. Unless we’re directly collaborating on things (like mentioned here (link) a bit), or you’re a personal friend of mine who’s gotten involved in the world with my own guidance (meaning I could tell you lore things you’d need to know to make it accurate, etc.), then I don’t feel it’s appropriate for strangers to do at this point. 

Especially since I don’t even have enough world info out for people to be able to reference (most species have half-complete guides, I’ve only ever talked about like, one continent, etc.). There are so many necessary details which I have only in my head and have never typed out, so again, idk, it’d just be weird. I’m not okay with it until I have a lot more lore published, and maybe a few actual works out there that people can reference/stories/games/basis for OCs to exist in the first place. If that makes sense? 

8. "Hey, is it ok to use your outfit posts as inspiration for a dnd character? I love them so much, you have such a unique way of combining crazy patterns and fabrics into something that gives off a good vibe”

Yes, that would be fine! Thank you for asking, and I appreciate the compliments~ Hopefully I can get back to posting that sort of thing more often lol.. I’ve gotten WAY off my routine and haven’t done many outfits lately.. aaa

9. "hi Luca! i just wanted to say i really love all of your costumes and fashions and dress ups, its all so cool and pretty and interesting. i actually wanna dress up for fun for myself, and now that i know about the bins i think i'll try to convince my mom to take me to similar places for cheap clothing pieces, since my mom is worried about how much all this costume stuff costs. anyway, please keep posting your cool and beautiful stuff! "

Thank you so much! I wish you luck with your costumes! Yeah, I think there’s a common idea in a lot of fashion communities (like with makeup, costumes, etc.) that you have to always have high quality things to look nice, and even if sometimes you can do more with a little extra money, really you can make anything look good with what you have if you just combine it right. As I’ve always been quite low income, being into fashion and stuff has be discouraging at times, that I couldn’t afford certain materials or items, but you just have to find a niche where what you’re able to do works. For example, a lot of even ‘cheap’ lolita style clothings are too expensive for me (like $30 - $50 for a dress??? then the more pricey ones can be over $100???) lol.. BUT, then stuff like mori kei, cult party kei, fantasy costumes, etc. you can do with nearly any fabric you can find, and it’s still just as fun and creative. Most of the outfits I take pictures of probably cost me no more than $1 - $10 for every single item combined. Obviously it depends on location - I have better access now that I live near a place like the bins, which I understand there may not be similar resources in small towns or etc. But even with generic thrift stores (which may not be as cheap as the bins), you can still find pretty good alternatives to all the money it costs to buy things brand new. There’s still some stuff I legit just can’t do because I don’t have access to the materials, but for the most part I can manage everything I’d like with $3 eye-shadows and 15 cent tattered curtain fabrics lol. You can still do really cool stuff on a pretty nonexistent budget!

10. “do you have any tips on growing your hair long? is it expensive to up keep? i wanna grow mine out but it grows so slow!”

Well, I know nothing about hair and am not a hair stylist or etc. so I really don’t have any tips lol??  And I think hair maintenance depends a lot on the type of hair you have, not everyone’s is the same. I assume we must have similar hair  (my natural hair is thick kind of coarse very dark brown/black hair, which is a bit wavy in some parts but mostly straight, but most of my hair currently (aside from the overgrown roots at the top) is altered because of damage from bleaching and etc., it’s more brittle. so that’s what I’ll be referencing) if you’re asking me this instead of someone else, but just know that whatever I say may not apply to you.  

Anyway, I really don’t do anything to my hair to make it grow or etc., it’s just that I’ve gone a long time without cutting it lol. I used to cut it all the time or change styles, and now I’ve kind of just left it for 5 or 6 years or so. Because of my mental illness I have trouble maintaining personal care and etc., so I do sometimes go a week or more without washing it, even though I’m trying to work that into my schedule more (luckily I don’t have stinky head, I’ve heard some people’s scalp oils and stuff can smell weird if left for too long, I have the privilege of being able to like.. skip on hygiene a lot without it severely impacting my ability to do things or etc. since it’s usually not obvious if I haven’t bathed in a week or two). 

My cat also EATS HUMAN HAIR for some reason, so I have to keep it up all the time, so that when I shed it doesn’t actually just fall loose onto the ground lol. Literally all I do to my hair is just keep it in two braids at all times and wash it with normal shampoo and conditioner occasionally, when I can. I really only think it’s gotten long because I’ve been leaving it alone and not messing with it, not really because of anything I’ve done (like I don’t use fancy products on it or etc.) And because of that, no, it’s not really expensive! It absolutely WOULD be if I were like..a normal functioning person and I regularly bleached it and dyed it and put products on it and styled it and used shampoo and conditioner every 1-3 days on it and etc. lol.. But I guess because I don’t do anything to it to maintain it, I’m not spending money on hairspray or dye or shampoo or etc.  I used to bleach it a lot and straighten it and use hairspray and stuff on it, and it seems healthier (at least on the new top parts) now that I’m just ... ignoring it basically lol. But I don’t really know what to do to make it grow faster! I’m bad at self-care, and even if I do costumes and stuff, I really am not into beauty and hair and nails and makeup and stuff, so I’m probably the wrong person to ask hghjhb.. My upkeep routine is just... eat and sleep. wash face with water daily.. do extra stuff if you can manage to despite your functioning issues, etc. I’m definitely not a Beauty Advice person, I barely brush my hair even once a week lol

11. "Maybe you should reduce the number of races if it's too overwhelming? A world can still be immersive with only a few races in it."

(sidenote - Not to be nitpicky, but I make a specific point that the groups of fantasy creatures I create are species, not ‘’races’’, even though it is a commonly used term in fantasy worldbuilding, I think it’s inaccurate/weird )

I know I don’t have to make so many different groups, but, I guess I just really want it to be a broad setting. Part of the point in creating Nanyevimi (aside from worldbuilding just being extremely fun and a hobby greatly suited to someone with my personality traits lol) is to have an established world that I can do anything within, a framework already built where it'd be super easy to just drop a character anywhere on the map and already have an idea of what their culture, background, experiences, etc. would be based on pre-existing details about that portion of the world, etc. But I also want it to be broad, and varied, where every area kind of has it’s own dynamics going on there, so if you’re in a different place, you get a different kind of story. (like in an elven alliance city, you’d be better suited to tell an adventure story centering around complicated local politics, or city life, or etc.. whereas out in some isolated mountains in the south, it’d be more suited for a mystery story about stumbling across ancient ruins, or running into a mysterious traveler, etc.) 

Which I guess doesn’t matter much, since I'm better at setting, world design, character design, planning, and details than I am at plot, so  I probably won’t actually ever do anything with it (god forbid I tried to write a book or something with my utter inability to be concise/brief in any imaginable way). I can craft settings/characters/history/world-details all day endlessly, never losing inspiration or etc, but my weak point is actually telling stories within those settings and formulating a solid plan, organizing plot structures long term and etc.. Setting up everything for something to happen/creating a place where many interesting premises could occur is fine, but then actually thinking of how those things should OCCUR, or how the set up should play out, is where I get kind of lost. I guess the ideal at some point would be to have people working with me, helping when writing stories in my world/outlining games/etc, to add more cohesion/structure and reign in the unfocused stream of ideas,  but that’s very unlikely since I don’t have any close friends that are good at organizing or plotting either, etc. BUT anyway, even if I can’t ever manage to do anything with it, the whole “having a setting I can use for anything I want if anything ever comes up, which is already established and thus makes it much easier to formulate ideas because all the background work is already done for myself” thing is at least a nice goal.. in concept...theoretically lol..  

And, it’s not really too overwhelming, I think the overwhelming part is actually just formatting and producing those ideas in a consumable form. It’s not hard for me to keep track of 20 different groups and make backgrounds and every imaginable detail for them, but it IS hard to actually take all that information that exists in my head, type it out as a worldbuilding post, format and organize it, draw pictures to go with it, etc. If I could just post long stream of consciousness style 300,000 word long posts with no paragraph breaks, 4000 typos, barely any punctuation, etc., then I’d have A LOT more world-building info publicly available (since that’s what all the initial documents on my computer look like lol), but that’s just so inaccessible it’d be pointless to have public in the first place. The hard part isn’t really coming up with or managing the information, it’s just... organizing it all, and finding a way to share it. 

12. "oh PLEASE tell me what boing peach beverage the elf looks like"

a quick sketch of them.. mysterious peach (and other produce) salesman   

13. "fun question: what are ur fashion pet-peeves?"

Well, basically none because I hate when people are rigid over Fashion Rules or etc. Like, people who take pictures of others in public because they “look weird” , or who constantly trash on what people are allowed to wear, what patterns can be mixed with others, etc. etc. I get that some stuff can look kind of bad sometimes, and it’s not that I think nobody is allowed to criticize fashion trends or etc. (especially if they’re legitimately problematic, like of course someone wearing a homophobic t-shirt or doing blackface should be criticized), but I mean just like... that sort of trivial bitter criticism that doesn’t do anything but make people feel bad about the way they look or make them afraid to dress in ways they feel comfortable. Like taking a picture of someone and posting it online to make fun of them because they wore socks with sandals, or bullying 14 year olds who just started doing makeup and haven’t totally gotten their look sorted out yet, etc. etc. (ESPECIALLY since this can often intersect with classism, racism, etc. if you really examine what people mock as 'ugly' or 'unacceptable' styles, it's often stuff like men wearing dresses/makeup, women not shaving, clothing associated with poverty (like wearing “”cheap”” clothes), physical traits commonly associated with poc, making fun of people who look a certain way likely due to mental illness (like fidgeting, dirty mismatched clothing, carrying stuffed animals or comfort items in public etc.), etc. etc.

I find costumes and makeup and outfits to be a very cool and fun way to express myself. So when people are complete freaks about it and set out to just relentlessly make others feel bad for no good reason, it’s like... obnoxious... How can you take something with so much potential and limit it and close others off and turn it into this rigid hateful thing, when it should be something that everyone is able to be passionate about and appreciate?? Outside appearance isn't everything, but it's a tool of expression for so many people and can relate to who they are as a person, people should never feel uncomfortable to be who they are or look how they look just because some dumbass rich person writing for a style magazine has the gall to declare some random thing to be 'Unfashionable' despite not having a genuinely creative bone in their body, or some bigot thinks that certain things are ‘ugly’ or ‘unprofessional’ due to their own mental associations, etc.

But anyway, I guess if I had to choose a few things that I just think look kind of odd to me personally/are generally off-putting...  

--- the overdrawing lips thing when you can see the persons actual lip-line and it almost looks like they have two mouths or something? (if not done intentionally for costume makeup). It can look a little strange to me sometimes, like an optical illusion where you see multiple mouth lines at once?? idk like this?

--- freckles that are just round circles and really heavy and don’t look realistic (though again, I also realize this could just be the person’s first time drawing them on or something and I’m not  mocking for lack of skill, etc. I just mean that it’s a little strange to look at, not actually BAD though) (and it can also be intentional, like for a cartoony costume look) ---- People adopting cutesy/childlike fashion and clothing and sexualizing it or using it as part of their sex/kink stuff.. I just feel like anything associated with children should not be sexualized..? If the first thing someone thinks when seeing children's school uniforms or frilly little girl’s doll dresses or whatever is that it could be a Hot Thing then hhh... like why is your brain making those connections lol.. People can dress how they want for whatever reasons they want, but that’s always personally creeped me out a little. Similar to our culture’s obsession with looking young being ‘hot’ (like a grown man wanting someone who’s a legal adult but still “looks 16″ or etc.), where it’s like.. okay, I guess yeah outwardly you can make that choice, and maybe aren’t directly causing harm, but.. the underlying tones of it and etc. still make it very unsettling to witness lol... ---- anything appropriated obviously, as well as fetishization or bastardization of cultures, like t-shirts with Japanese writing on them Just For Aesthetic, or taking certain culturally or religiously significant symbols or etc. and adopting them as ‘just a silly fashion’ thing when you’re actually being disrespectful, etc.  ---- those shorts or whatever that go up extremely high on the hipbones always look a little weird to me lol, like they give a person funny proportions, 

(you may have to right click open image in new window and zoom to see the text, but it’s like.. the blank space makes it look kind of weird to me? Like there’s too much where there’s just nothing going on? idk. That’s just my personal preference though, obviously I tend to lean towards busy designs lol)

That’s all I can think of though, like I said, I’m really not picky or judgy about fashion since I think people should be able to do whatever they want for the most part. I’m not like a “omg stripes should NEVER be worn with plaid!!” type person or something lol. 

14. "Hey Luca! I love when you post about your world. Do you have a favorite species you've made up so far? Also, I hope you're holding up well during the crisis!"

AAaa thanks! I’m okay mostly. It’s distressing since because of my particular mental illness I already have constant paranoia and obsessions about health, so of course hearing about so much illness can be really triggering constantly and I’m preoccupied in never-ending anxiety spirals about mortality and etc. etc. etc. , but situationally, I’m just very thankful that nobody in my household has gotten sick yet and I desperately wish that will continue to be the case. *** *** *** 

(ignore the *** *** *** , this is a text version of a physical compulsion (a hand movement) that I have to do when I mention certain topics lol.. the little man in my brain that controls my obsessive compulsive disorder says I must do certain things after saying or thinking certain things,, You Know How It Is ) 

And I really love worldbuilding questions, so thank you so much!!!!! Hghgh maybe it seems weird to favor any over the others, but of course I really like the Avirre'thel. Conceptually, I think their origin story and connection to ancient elves and their abilities and etc. put them in a really unique position in the broader world (some of the only truly immortal people to exist, the only people who can still decipher ancient elven texts in a way that makes sense, etc. etc.). Since Nanyevimi (my world) is really just a setting being built so that in the future I can set things within it (games, short stories, etc.), I think I'm drawn to the aspects of it that have the most potential to make interesting characters, and there are definitely a lot of pre-established dynamics with the Avirre'thel/in Navyete (their home country) as a whole that would make it an good place to set certain things, or a good group for a main character to be from, etc.

I do really like the Jhevona as a species overall too, even if I haven't developed them as much, they also kind of stand out as having some fairly unique features that put them in an interesting position in the world (being one of the most magically capable groups that exists but that also having downsides (health issues and infertility from magic exposure, etc.), how the necessity to keep control over their magic influences their culture, being some of the only natural shape-shifters, etc.). Within that, I REALLY love the Thastanri (a subspecies of Jhevona), like their connection to dreams, the Imkasyn, being one of the last few peoples in contact with real dragons, etc. etc. There are a lot of complex things going on in their area, so there’d be a lot of potential to tell a variety of stories or have interesting characters from that group. 

AND, though it's supposed to be Unknown in the world so I won't talk about it just in case I ever write a book one day or something and need to preserve at least a FEW mysteries that I don't just outright explain in worldbuilding posts, Jhevona do have the most interesting origins of any species in my opinion. There are some things from before the timeline break sort of thing (where all recorded history was seemingly wiped and everyone had a big memory loss about 50,000 yrs ago) that people aren't aware of anymore... but Jhevona used to have a cool backstory and quite interesting function in society prior to that. There are some remnants in the genetics of the species and how their magic works (at least for certain groups) that kind of hint at how ancient Jhevona used to look and what they used to do, even though in the modern day things are very different.

15. "Top 10 songs you've been listening to lately?"

I don’t have a top 10 since I listen to everything for different reasons, and don’t have as deep a relationship with music the way some people do (like I don’t really have a favorite band or group I have a connection with that’s “gotten me through hard times”, or music I cry to/any songs that are specifically personally emotionally meaningful to me, etc., etc.), but here’s a quick playlist of a few favorite-ish things I’ve had in my head a lot recently - 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLPmQ4SZdFFHNkgKo7nAiEMgVvLcycX5Qc

the last song on the list specifically I’ve been replaying a lot for some reason, I guess since it’s good background music as there’s no words. Particularly the part that starts around like 38 seconds in, something about that melody reminds me of something distant, in a dreamlike way. The past few days I mostly alternate between that song, Outstanding, and And The Beat Goes On  lol

16. " Do you ever sell sculptures? I really like that little fawn!"

Yeah, I hope to eventually! Like I mentioned in question number three, if I can set up some sort of way to do auctions or etc, then maybe I can sell that one! 

17 & 18 : '"aaa yay!! i missed your outfits!!!" / "can I just say love ur outfits! They're so cool and inspire me to draw my ocs with new outfits > o < and I love your cat too, please give him a big ol pat!"

Thank you!!!! more compliments posted just to show I appreciate them lol, even if I don’t publicly respond to every one~ And, the Boyes appreciate the pats.. here is them.. big babbeys... 

[theradioghost]

A Dream

There was a moment of panic that I went through when I finally got to the gate, where I dug into the deep pocket of my jacket and discovered that the key wasn’t there. For a minute, I scrabbled through my pockets desperately, my breath catching in my throat, terrified that this had all been for nothing, that I would lose my resolve, before I remembered that I had strung it on a chain around my neck for safekeeping.

I took a moment to berate myself for forgetting, and then another moment to turn back and make sure that my car was properly hidden, pulled off to the side of the ragged dirt road and a little ways into the bushes. If I didn’t come back this way, if the green of vines and creepers and long grass eventually grew up to tangle around it, no one would notice.

I was procrastinating, I knew that, but that didn’t exactly make it easier to turn again, to face the gates. They were high, wrought-iron so intricate that it looked like a living thing until you touched it and felt cold metal. Black branches and vines and leaves and even flowers twined together, asymmetrically, in their center a deceptively small lock. On either side, the fence stretched out and promptly vanished into the thick undergrowth, with no sign of where it might or might not have ended.

There was nothing else to do except turn around and run away, and despite everything, I wasn’t going to do that. I pulled at the chain around my neck, freeing the key, and with a deep breath, I fit it into place. Years of disuse hadn’t filled the lock with rust and dirt, or at least not so much that the key didn’t slide in with a self-satisfied click.

I didn’t even touch the gates. Some combination of wind and weight and gravity yanked the key out of my hand as they slid open with a shriek like a dying animal. With a muttered expletive I retrieved the key, and after a moment’s consideration, I pushed the wailing gates back into their original position and locked them again from the other side.

Beyond the gate, the path wound its way into the thick forest. It was unpaved, and my feet crunched on dirt and small stones as I walked deeper, further away from the gate and my car. On either side of me, the wall of greenery was nearly impenetrable, and after only a minute or two of walking it was knitted together into a solid ceiling not far above the narrow path. Somehow, a small amount of golden light filtered down through the stories of foliage overhead, and gave me just enough light to see by.

It was impossible to say how long I walked — five minutes, an hour. What matters is that at the end of that time the tunnel of green suddenly fell away, and I was standing at the bottom of a sloping hill.

What was in front of me had clearly once been a garden. I could see the faint echoes of the shapes of flowerbeds and vegetable plots whose former inhabitants had long ago either died away or broken free of their intended rows. Gentle terraces had been cut into the hill to create flat beds, now crumbling back into a natural slope as roots and weather tugged at them.

At the end of the broad stone steps that wound their way through the garden, there was a set of wooden steps, and then a porch. The porch was the front of what you could only call a house, although that wasn’t quite right. It was house-shaped, for sure, with proud dark Victorian angles and filigree, deep-shadowed windows and its front porch with the remnants of a swing rotting off to one side. But appearances can be deceiving. A house is lived in, and this building clearly hadn’t been lived in for a long time.

I hadn’t expected to be so struck by its sudden emergence from the woods, and so I stood there for a long moment, staring up at the ruin that loomed above me like a dragon. I had the distinct feeling that if I went any closer, it would swallow me whole.

But I had come this far.

There was no key to open the front door. The gate and the endless pathway would have been sufficient to deter just about any intruder, at least until me. So when I reached the front porch, I simply placed my hand on the cold, pitted brass of the handle, released my breath, and opened the door.

The moment I stepped inside, I found myself in another forest. Even expecting it, it took a second for the illusion to resolve into its reality - an entrance hall, with hooks and stands for coats and hats that had been cunningly and delicately worked in the shapes of tree-trunks, sprouting from the floor and spreading out over the ceiling in a mural of leaves that were difficult now to make out, under a layer of dust and shadows. Carved branches interlaced over my head, and the space seemed so real that I thought I caught the trill of birdsong just at the edge of my hearing.

Under closer inspection, these trees didn’t match the ones I’d walked under outside. They were tropical, alien. When I peered up at the ceiling, I could just make out the shapes that hid amongst the painted foliage - a crouching jaguar, a flock of bright parrots, a bright-eyed monkey. Beneath my feet, a thick carpet had once been a deep blue.

It was magnificent. A beautiful and inexplicable work of art. But it wasn’t what I’d come all this way for, so once I had looked, I gently removed my boots, placed them into one of the shoe racks, and continued on my way.

The entrance opened out into a dining room that was just as much a work of art as the first. One side was lined with tall, pointed stained-glass windows, through which rode knights in pursuit of dragons and maidens astride fleet unicorns. The table was thick, dark-stained oak, and a perfect circle, although there was only one chair pulled up to it. Bare, gray brick walls had been hung with rugs. Exiting the jungle, I had entered a castle.

I found my throat closing with grief as I stepped past the table, drawing one finger through the thick layer of dust that topped it, exposing the shine of the wood beneath. But I kept walking.

It would be impossible to describe the rooms beyond that. Tiled rectangular courtyards with reflecting pools filled with geometric designs under stagnant water. A blue-walled room with furniture in the shapes of coral reefs, their edges unexpectedly soft to the touch instead of rough stone. A room with no windows where every surface, not just the ceiling as in so many childrens’ bedrooms across the world, was covered in tiny glow-in-the-dark stars.

After four or five rooms, it was obvious enough that the house as I had seen it from the outside couldn’t have held all of these wonders. I passed through a lot more than four or five rooms.

It only took me a couple of hours to reach the library — which felt wrong, I thought, but then again, I’d started doing a few sports in college and had always kept in good shape since then. At any rate, I found it — a massive, open room, with glass panes in the ceiling above, two floors of shelving, the kind of great rolling ladders that every little kid dreams of riding down the shelf. A heartbreaking faint smell of mildew hung in the air.

I entered through a door on the second floor and walked slowly down a spiraling staircase at one far end, watching dust flicker in and out of sight in the beams of golden light that drifted down from the ceiling. You could have fit the entire outside of the house in this room; instead the floor was filled with tables and lecterns and large overstuffed chairs, all of them covered in loose sheets of paper and books still left open. Unable to hold my curiosity, I picked one up, scanning the abandoned page —

One, two! One, two! And through and through      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head      He went galumphing back.

I immediately set the book down again, a sick coil of shame filling my gut. After that I didn’t want to stay in the library, but as I reached the giant, cold fireplace at the far end, I realized there was no further to go, no door to take; I had entered by the only door.

But that wasn’t right. A house like this, there are always secrets. Things only the family would know.

It took me a while to find it, hidden in the massive stones of the fireplace, and all the while I felt like every book in that library was a pair of eyes fixed on my back. But finally my questing hand found a spot that gave way, and I pushed, and heard a thud. When I looked up again, the back of the fireplace had vanished, revealing another spiral staircase. This one I could not see the end to. I squared my shoulders and started to climb.

About four hours into my ascent, I took a break, grateful for my foresight in having hauled a bag of water and snacks all this way. My legs ached so much that I couldn’t stop them quivering, but I couldn’t rest. Not yet. Although it had been fairly early morning when I left my car by the road, I could see through the occasional windows that the light was going thin and gold; I had at most another hour or two before I’d have to make serious camp for the night and do some sleeping.

So, once I’d massaged my calves a bit and finished off my second granola bar, I resumed my climb up the tower. It was obvious that this was a tower, at this point; the windows were too thin and too high to see into, but they were on all sides of the narrow cylinder as I ascended. But I was high, impossibly high, having walked for so many hours. Much too high for an old house in the woods. Then, the door.

The gratitude that flooded me at the sight of an end to stairs dissipated as soon as I pushed it open and saw what was on the other side. It was the top of the tower, alright. Glass walls like the top room of a lighthouse surrounded me, looking out on an endless expanse of green forest. At this impossible height, I should have been able to see the road I’d come in on, the little town with the motel where I’d stayed overnight and the diner with the awful cheesecake, the highway beyond that led off to bigger towns and then cities where there were schools and jobs and lives.

All of these things had vanished from this panorama. It made sense, somehow. They all felt so impossibly far away.

Around me, on the floor, lay the remnants of a child’s fort. A collection of pillows with a blanket collapsed on top of them, a spray of books, a portable battery-powered camping lantern. And in the middle —

I bent down and picked it up, turning it over it my hands. It was a little wooden recorder, hand-carved. Of course it was; I hadn’t passed a single thing on my way here that had the look of having been purchased. The toys at my feet, the furniture and the paintings and the stairs — all had been clearly handmade, made in impossible detail and with boundless imagination. Even the books were all bound in matching covers

That was an act of love, I thought. An act of such profound, shattering love that terror gripped my heart like a brutal hand when I thought about it. This entire house, dead and abandoned as it was, was still undeniably full of someone’s world-swallowing love for the child who had once played this recorder.

That night I slept there, far above the forest. I made use of the blankets and pillows that had been left there so long ago, but I didn’t touch the toys, or the scattered crayons and their box, or the drawings splayed out across the floor. My sleep was deep and dreamless, and in the morning, when the rising sun woke me up, I picked up my bag, and turned my focus to the other door.

The exit from the tower garret was a trapdoor, hidden in the floor. I pulled hard on the dirty iron ring handle, expecting it to be heavy, and fell over backwards when it turned out to be easy enough to lift. Muttering a few curses, I got up, and peered down.

Blackness. No stairs in sight.

So without hesitation, I jumped.

I’d been to a water park once with some friends, and they’d talked me into waiting in the excruciating line to use one of the gigantic waterslides there. It was a behemoth, stories tall, with a massive mouth like the end of an upside-down tuba. I’d gotten to the top, they’d hosed me down and handed me an inner tube, and then sent me on my way down. Inside of the closed tube of the slide, rushing uncontrollably down in a stream of water, with the bright summer sun illuminating the translucent red of the tunnel walls from behind, it had felt like being swallowed and then eventually regurgitated by some gigantic creature.

The slide in the tower was not quite like that. There was no water and no inner tube, obviously, and significantly less light. It was much twistier, and far, far longer. But by far the biggest difference was that even in the darkness, the only sound the rushing of my clothes against the smooth tunnel floor, I didn’t feel swallowed. I felt embraced.

In the end, I was deposited unceremoniously into a heap of pillows at the bottom of the chute. Once I had disentangled myself and caught my breath, I surveyed my surroundings. This room was made in the image of a crystal cave, the walls covered with strange protuberances from which spikes and globes of gemstones shone. After a moment’s reflection, I dug the flashlight out of my bag, and then continued on my way.

I found the rhythm of it, my second day in the house; the ways through rooms shaped like mazes, the way to jump from beam to beam underneath the arched ceilings of flooded vaults. My eyes grew used to picking out the signs of puzzles, of secret passageways that led me further. It was a specific logic - the work of a parent, devising games for their child. I had to force myself back into old ways of thinking, remember secrets and paths I’d long ago forgotten.

As the day grew late, it became obvious that the house was beginning to move underground this time, which was good. It meant I was getting close. Down here, this far in, the rooms grew more natural, more abstract; there was little rococo architecture, no halls of funhouse mirrors, no cabinets of wonders. Instead there were kitchens hewn from a single piece of stone, giant fungi that glowed like lamps and smelled softly of lemon, furniture of tree roots and pure gold. I slept in a secret nook of a bedroom, hidden high up the ceiling of a giant mural-painted wall, accessible only by rope ladder. On the third day I delved deeper yet, swapping out the batteries in my flashlight, wondering how much time I had left, whether this was all too late anyway.

And then, as though there had been no warning, the door.

I looked up at it. It was a big door, very big. There may have been designs on it, but they were not on a scale that my vision could encompass.

There was a much, much smaller door set into the bottom of it.

I’m ashamed to say that even then I hesitated. It had brought things back, this odyssey through the house. Guilt and fear and even long-buried anger that I was shocked to find still smoldered inside of me, deep beneath the leaf litter of my heart, when I’d thought time and distance had extinguished it.

But I thought of the little recorder, and what I owed, and I opened the door.

Big would not describe the room beyond. Cavernous would come closer, if not for the fact that this room was a marked departure from the cave-like section of the house just behind me. Instead I seemed to have stepped into some impossible Gothic cathedral, a vaulted ceiling vanishing into the dusk above, hewn stone pillars like redwood trunks reaching down to the floor below. The walls were lined with stained glass, much like the dining room far above, but behind these there was no illuminating sun - only soil and roots and worms and darkness beyond the dulled colors. Two massive staircases swept out from either side of where I stood, arching delicately down to the floor.

I couldn’t see the floor. Not because it was as distant as the ceiling, but because it was covered with the sleeping form of an indescribable leviathan. It wound through and around the pillars, in places up the walls, too huge even for this massive space, and its breath moved like the heaving of an ocean. The beast was the size of a house — was the size of this house, was this house, I knew that, or at least its architect, but what difference was there?

When the echo of the door opening rang out across the room, down below a single eye slid open, locked directly onto mine.

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I had come this far.

“It’s me,” I said, at last. “I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’ve come home."

[fcrvcnt]

( alex fitzalan, cismale, he/him ) i just saw KIERAN WALSH walking down the street’s of provincetown the other day playing LOST by DERMOT KENNEDY out loud. rumor has it that the TWENTY-TWO year old is +ATTENTIVE, but can also be -DISTRUSTFUL — overall they’re an INTANGIBLE CONCEPT. they remind me of A GENTLE BREEZE RESURRECTING A HOT DAY, STORMY WHITE CAPPED SEAS, SMUGED FINGERPRINTS COVERING WHITE PAPER & RESTLESS NIGHTS .

hey, hi, hello!!! i’m bronny, i’m 22, i’m from new zealand ( possibly one of the worst timezones to be in but we learn to survive!! ) and i’m so excited about this group and being able to write kieran again  ( with an fc change bc alex?? newest love of my life, who does he think he is ?? ) ?? i’ve been missing writing him and been looking for a place but just haven’t found the right place.....until now!!! enough rambling about me though, lets get onto what you’re here for......

KIERAN WALSH

for the first 12 years of kieran’s life, you could say that his life was pretty happy and smooth sailing?? the walsh family were nowhere near rich but they were comfortable middle class. his father was a builder and his mother worked part-time as a kindergarten teacher. his childhood was nothing spectacular but it was full of love and happiness and that was the only thing kieran really cared about?? 

***ALCOHOLIC & ALCOHOL & ABUSE MENTION ***

but when kieran was around 13, his life took a turn no one really saw coming. whether it was the stress his father put on himself or it was old demons rearing their ugly head, kieran’s father turned to the bottle to self-medicate the darkness growing inside him.

it started off with small things. kieran’s father overreacting to tiny inconvenience at home and him coming home late at night. raised voices became the usual in the walsh household after that and kieran & amelia would both end up in his room attempting to shut it all out by going over the little cartoon strips kieran would create for amelia - eventually there was enough to make a whole little series.

slowly the walsh family drifted from middle class to lower-middle class thanks to kieran’s father losing his job and his mother retreating into herself.

kieran was 15 when he really took on the role to support amelia & his mother as best he could. kieran couldn’t care less about what happened to his father.

at 15 kieran grew up far quicker than any 15 really should. he got his first job and began trying to keep things at least just scraping by, because if he didn’t there was a real chance that he, amelia and his mother would be kicked out of their family home.

his mother did manage to help him out as best she could but his father’s actions and behaviour was taking a toll on her.

he was hellbent on not allowing amelia & his mother from suffering the full brunt of the storm their father and husband had created.

kieran thought that this would be his life forever. juggling school, work and trying to keep his whole life and family from completely collapsing but one night, one action taken too far that left kieran with a black eye given to him by his father, was all it took for kieran’s mother to kick kieran’s father out.                                                 *********************

kieran was in his last year at high school and 18 when his father left and to say kieran’s upset about not knowing where he went would be a complete lie. seeing the back of him was a blessing because even though their lives had taken a dive and it would take a lot to get back up to where they were, at least he wasn’t in amelia & his mother’s lives anymore.

but before we can go any further, there’s one thing you need to know !!! anything creative had been kieran’s saving grace over the course of his teenage years. drawing, painting, photography, music, creating, it helped settle all the emotions that raced through him, it grounded him when nothing else could and if there was one thing he knows, it’s that his ultimate dream would be to become a concept artist for films both live-action and animation but for all his life that’s just what it feels like it’ll always be—a dream and since college wasn’t exactly something on his radar—mostly because he was damn sure he couldn’t afford it and his grades weren’t good enough to get a scholarship—it felt even more out of reach.

but he wasn’t exactly going to give up on his dream that easily, especially when his younger sister wasn’t going to let him let it go that easily either, so as graduation came and went and everyone started to leave to go to college, kieran walsh stayed in provincetown and started to enrol into online courses for concept art and illustration via the online college of digital art & animation, cg spectrum and as a whole he studied three courses over the course of 3 years.

there are sometimes where he wishes he could have gotten out of provincetown and gone to college—just to experience that #collegelife. but he knows he couldn’t ever bring himself to do that because you see, even though his mother got a new job and started trying to return back to some sense of normal when kieran was 18, kieran can’t bring himself to leave?? the thought of leaving amelia and his mother on their own is too much, he’s terrified of his mother retreating back within herself and leaving amelia to look after herself—he can’t bring himself to leave them after more or less supporting the whole family for almost his whole teenage years. but he knows eventually he’ll have to go out on his own and he is in the process of it!! he’s managed to move out at least into an apartment of his own when he was 20, though it’s not all that far from his family home. but it’s a step.

though he’s still procrastinating on the finding a steady job thing, in the mean time he’s doing a lot of freelance things here and there for adverts, small indie animated videos/short movies, designed a couple things for some big name youtubers and even has helped on the illustrations for some children’s books. but he’s still holding out for his dream to come true.

PERSONALITY

an actual soft boy!!! loves his little sister & mother more than anything in the world and has literally put his own happiness and life to the side to make sure they’re happy and thriving after the shit they’ve been through. he loves with his whole heart and it’s both a blessing and a curse.

but he’s so use to being the one to take care of everyone else that he’s never stopped to take care of himself?? and to imagine someone caring about him and loving him is something he cannot get his head around??

a very private person. maybe comes across like he’d be a bit of an asshole but he’s actually relatively friendly?? probably that person you think you know everything about but in reality you actually don’t know nothing about them??

he finds it hard to let people get close and finds it hard to trust others??

may have something to do with the fact that he’s terrified of becoming life his father?? but really is far more like his mother, he just has a bit of a hard time showing it??

hasn’t ever really touched alcohol that much and doesn’t intend on doing so any time soon, he terrified of turning into his father!!!!! we love that

a little rough around the edges and takes a while to break down his walls but once you’ve managed to weed your way into his heart you’ll be there forever and he’ll love you with his whole heart.

loves the snackpack with his whole heart, his dumbass energy really comes out strong around them because YOU KNOW he’s a complete idiot underneath that hardish exterior.

proud of his friends that got out of provincetown and went to college, but also a little salty about being left behind — we don’t talk about that though

if anyone would like to plot a little something, my ims are always open, i’m also up for plotting via discord, and i’d love to plot a little something!! i swear i don’t bite so please send me an im if you’re up for something, but honestly if you give this a like i’ll come to you!!

but if you are interested in plotting, i have a plots page with loose ideas here!!

[13thsongbird]

I can’t quite believe it’s nearly October – where did the summer go? And on top of that, where did September go?? That said, I’ve been glorying in the weather here in New York this past month. We’ve still been flirting with temps in the 80s during the hottest parts of the day, but it’s much breezier and less humid, and once the sun goes down the temperature drops quite comfortably into the 60s. Much nicer than the sticky humidity and 90+ degree days and nights of August! (We’re still not quite to my ideal fall temperatures, but soon… soon…)

And with cooler temps come thoughts of fall-appropriate sewing – that is to say, things with sleeves. I didn’t do this consciously, but looking back at the projects I completed this summer, there wasn’t a single sleeve in sight! These arms demand freedom in the heat of a New York City summer, what can I say. Hindsight being 20/20, this actually may be the reason I procrastinated so long on the make I’m ever-so-slowly building up to. Minds are weird and wonderful things, aren’t they?

At the beginning of August, the Instagram sewing community blew up with sewing challenges – the ones I saw the most were #alteritaugust and #BRAugust2019, but there were any number of others. Not sure why August is the hoppin’ sewing month, but it made for a flood of inspiring Instagram pictures so I wasn’t complaining! However, I wasn’t really in the mood to commit to a sustained month-long challenge. The lure of getting in the sandbox to play with my sewing community beckoned, but it wasn’t quite clicking – until I saw someone posting about #sewcialmashup and a little bulb went off in my head. The concept was simply to mash up two (or more!) patterns and share pictures of the result during the month of August, with weekly prize drawings and some big grand prize options at the end of the month, and my mind immediately flashed to a mashup I’ve had brewing since before the new year. What a great opportunity to get my rear in gear, join the fun, but also not overwhelm myself! One project, one month – easy peasy!

(And then I procrastinated for the whole month and only worked on it the literal last three days of August… and then I started writing this blog post the first week of September and only just now got around to finishing it… Shhhhhh… I blame it on the heat. Yeah. Also, big shoutout to Girls in the Garden and Inside the Hem for hosting such a fun challenge!)

Like a lot of sewists, I was entranced this winter by the release of Friday Pattern Company’s Adrienne Blouse. A simple top designed for knits, it majorly brings the drama with sleeves that are literally the largest pattern pieces on the sheet, gathered at shoulder and cuff with 1/2″ elastic, and is a terrifically drafted pattern and easy to sew to boot. The minute I got my grubby little hands on it, I was dreaming of wearing it tucked into high-waisted pants and skirts, which gave me a moment of pause. I don’t like tucking knit tops in – I feel like they often bunch and shift under a fitted waistband, plus I’m very tall with a long torso, which can be trying when it comes to keeping tucked-in shirts in place. The Adrienne is drafted with negative ease through the body, which meant the bunching was unlikely to be an issue, but it is also self-described as “slightly cropped with the hem hitting just below your bellybutton”. How much length was I going to have to add to make this wearable?? (The answer is none – I actually find the length of the torso fairly spot-on for me. Were I looking for a cropped top I’d be disappointed, but as it is I’m pleased as punch!) Then I had a surge of brilliance – I’ve posted here before about my love affair with the Nettie bodysuit from Closet Case Patterns, and one of the things I love most about it is that it provides me with close-fitting knit tops that are un-untuckable. Why couldn’t I just whack the bottom of the Nettie onto the Adrienne, joining the practicality of the bodysuit with the swoony romanticism of the blouse’s sleeves? Both patterns are very simply drafted with similar ease and stretch requirements. Only one thing to do, and that was throw it at the wall and see if it stuck!

Despite the incredibly long incubation time on this idea (I mentioned it for the first time all the way back in January when I was drafting my Pick Nine selections for 2019), once I pulled out the patterns the whole thing came together really quickly! My copy of the Nettie has an inch of length added to the front pattern piece at the lengthen-shorten line (I chose to fold out that extra length from the back piece to try and reduce extra fabric at the small of my back, which has been an issue before), so to make sure I included that I simply lined up the Nettie’s top lengthen-shorten line with the waist notch on the Adrienne. Above that point I traced the Adrienne, below it I traced the waist and hip curve on the Nettie, shifted the pattern pieces a little so the edge lined up with the fold of the fabric, and traced the leg opening with some creative fudging to make up for a little added width through the hips. Same process for the back (while Adrienne uses the same pattern piece front and back, the Nettie has differently shaped pieces to accommodate your crotch and your butt) and I was in business! Since I didn’t change anything about the armscye or neckline of the Adrienne, I could simply use the sleeve and neck binding pattern pieces as drafted, and while the leg opening did end up slightly cattywompus from the original Nettie, Heather very thoughtfully includes in the pattern instructions that the bands (which you self-draft anyway) should be 90% the length of your leg opening, so I just had to do a little measuring.

Cutting it out was simple and mostly notable for how often I had to stop to pet my fabric – I’ve never worked with double-brushed poly before, so I don’t know if it’s all this soft and kitten-like and delicious or if LA Finch Fabrics just has the absolute best DBP in the game. Either way, it’s divine, and I got 1 1/4 yard for a steal of a deal because it was an end-of-bolt piece (so no more for you, sorry, it’s ALL MINE!), which was the perfect amount to cut out my “Adrettie” without any hassle and still have some silky-soft scrappy pieces that I think I can squeeze a panties-and-bralette set out of (#sustainablesewing!!! Use up those scraps!). Construction was likewise simple and straightforward; while I own a serger it hasn’t been threaded in a few years and I have sewn everything from lingerie elastic to swimsuit lycra to chunky sweater knits using the zigzag stitch on my ever-loving Joni, so all I had to do was sit down at my machine and sew. An hour or two later, and it was SLEEVE TIME!!

I’m seriously in love with these sleeves. Paired with my buzz cut, they make me feel like I’m Fantine from Les Mis – and who doesn’t want to go about their daily life feeling like a 19th-century factory worker tragically forced to sell her hair, teeth, and body to support her beloved but illegitimate daughter by a man who took advantage of her and then abandoned her to a life of poverty??? (Fantine is one of my dream roles, y’all. I dreamed a dreeeeam in time gone byyyyy…)

Okay maybe that’s just me.

I’m slightly less in love with how far down the cut of the leg opening falls in the front – the back coverage is perfect, and one of the reasons I love the drafting of the Nettie so much, but I might go back in and carve out some of the side and front so the band sits more comfortably in the crease between my thigh and my pelvis.

I paired Adrettie with some Old Navy shorteralls, and while I’m liking the effect I’m not a huge fan of the blue-on-blue – I love a good dress-like-a-crayon moment, but I prefer a little more dynamism and contrast between shades. Still, I wore the ensemble out to a friend’s birthday and really enjoyed it, so I think the answer is clear: I need to make more Adretties to wear with my blue denim shorteralls, and I need to make some other shorteralls (and full-length overalls for the colder weather) that I can wear with this blue one! I’ve got a pair of golden-yellow thrifted jeans that I was thinking of refashioning/altering, and while they were intended to become another pair of better-fitting pants, I’m sorely tempted to chop off the legs and use the extra fabric for straps and a bib… we shall see! I also think the sleeves would look darling under a pinafore, especially as the fall weather begins to make layering more of an option again. And then of course there’s the high-waisted pants and skirts I originally envisioned this hack with!

Gratuitous cat pic!

One thing I will be doing, though, is going back and opening the crotch seam to add snaps – all this talk of layering something that I have to take off in its entirety to go to the bathroom is giving me the cold sweats, and the thought of sitting on a toilet shivering as the weather gets colder does not appeal! The mood for this autumn is dress smarter, not harder, y’all.

  We Love A Statement Sleeve I can't quite believe it's nearly October - where did the summer go? And on top of that, where did September go??

[kunalkarankapoor]

The character study of Mohan Bhatnagar.

This is part one of the character study of Mohan Bhatnagar from the Indian TV show known as Na Bole Tum Na Maine Kuch Kaha (aired on Colors). I decided to blog it, because I did not have the heart to delete 40+ pages about a character that I absolutely adore, and because I was asked to share those pages by a few friends.

1) Introduction

I remember the first time that a fictional character from a TV show touched my heart. It was in year 2003. The name of the character was Angel and he was portrayed by actor David Boreanaz. Angel was not a lead in the original series (Buffy), but his character became so popular that a spin-off was created solely based on him.

I obsessed over Angel for five seasons because I needed to see him redeemed as the writers had promised. I needed to see this always-dressed-in-black, brooding, tormented soul rewarded for his sacrifices when his journey came to an end. But the writers failed their own character (the main reason being that the original writers had been replaced by a team of new writers who did not understand the character or his purpose).

Indeed, I cried tears of blood for Angel (pun intended). And then I swore never to fall in love with a fictional character again; not with a fictional character from a TV show, at least. When you have spent most of your childhood holed up in a closet for hours with a book, flashlight, and your lunchbox (while your parents believe that you are at school), then you do not make friends with people. You make friends with characters.

Fast forward to year 2010 and I stumbled upon another TV show; an Indian TV show. It was a retelling of a fairy tale known as The Beauty and the Beast, but untraditionally the female lead represented the Beast on the outside and the male lead represented the Beast on the inside). The name of the (male) character was Dutta and he was portrayed by actor Mishal Raheja. Like with Boreanaz, Raheja started out with no space for his character, no importance, until his performance captured the attention of the viewers. They wanted more of him and thus the channel/writers were compelled to provide his character with an actual story.

Dutta did not only become an original character through Raheja’s performance, but he also became one of the most beloved male characters on Indian TV. I face-planted at his feet in his first emotional (read: temperamental) scene. I followed him zealously from episode to episode – crying when he cried and laughing when he laughed and damning the world when he damned it. No, it did not escape my attention that Dutta was quite similar to Angel, e.g. the always-dressed-in-black part, all his brooding and self-hating nature, his demonic past, and so on. I followed him as I had once followed Angel, needing to see him rewarded for his sacrifices.

But this time the channel failed the character. They butchered him. They destroyed the show. And I never fought so hard for the justice of a fictional character in my life. In the end, I was left feeling betrayed.

Thus I swore it again. That I would not become emotionally attached to a fictional character from a TV show – and in the wake of Dutta, I did not believe that I would be able to love another character as much as I had loved him. But it so happens that I have fallen hard once again. And it so happens that that I have fallen for a character from a show aired by the very channel that character assassinated Dutta and treated his loyal fan-base like shit.

Oh, the frigging irony.

2) The Embodiment of Mohan Bhatnagar: Kunal Karan Kapoor

Looking at his career before NBT, it almost seemed as if Kunal was used. It seemed as if he was given a part, but never the lead part, even when he possessed the very ability to overshadow co-actors with his mere performances. The important people seemed to understand that he contained incredible talent; that he had something which pulled at something within the viewers. They retained him. They provided him with a bit more space and a bit more character depth, but they never allowed him to run a show, because despite his awe-inspiring talent, despite his inexplicable ability to draw viewers into the very skin of even a villainous character (such as Angad from Mann Ki Awaaz Pratigya), they did not believe in him enough to hand him a lead part.

I found it upsetting that someone with so much talent had been held back for years because people refused to look past his exterior. In a TV industry imbued with models, you have to look like an Abercrombie & Fitch commercial rather than carry actual talent. Indeed, people will ignore your lack of skill, but not your supposed lack in appearance – an appearance measured by some grand scale in the inhuman world also known as the model industry.

However, Kunal redefined beauty, in my opinion.

Kunal as an actor is flabbergasting. Watching him perform is like watching a painter paint on a blank canvas – colours blend, shapes emerge, lines connect, but the painter continues to paint and the painting continues to change. Kunal manages to wring out his character and expose every shade of it. Even as Angad, he twisted the black shades. There was more to the character. One could see the potential. The writers would not make him a stronger part of the story. They would not allow his character to grow out of the darkness and leave a mark.

Something that I found admirable was how Kunal never feared that people would hate his character. Perhaps hating is the same as caring. I do not know. But I do know that Kunal is gifted. It is as if he perceives more than the overall design. It is as if he sees the nuances and details and manages to draw them out. Comparing Angad with Vasu, they had only one thing in common; they were both criminals. Kunal made certain that the similarities ended there. The characters did not share the same dialect, attitude or body language, tone of voice or facial expressions.

My sister said something interesting about Kunal bagging NBT. She said that she wondered exactly when the channel/creative heads realised that they were in possession of an actor who was capable of a whole lot more than they had actually anticipated. She wondered when it occurred to them that he was not just any actor, but the embodiment of Mohan Bhatnagar; that he could take the character beyond the script.

Having watched both seasons twice, I doubt that they ever fully realised it. Or if they did, they continued to use his talent as everyone else had without providing him with anything more than his limited space. I believe that Kunal, even on NBT, was not given much screen-space or story; that even though he proved what he was capable of in season one, they still went on to restrain his character in season two, making it all about the love stories rather than Mohan’s very journey – especially the emotional one. I find it disheartening that an actor worked 12-14 hours a day, gave his all for a character, and yet in some episodes he had one scene that lasted no more than three minutes while others had half episodes dedicated to them. Perhaps if it had not been for the director understanding Kunal’s talent and meticulously capturing his every shot, then even the few minutes of him might have failed to show the depth of Kunal’s performances.

Despite his limited screen-space, it was Kunal who overshadowed entire episodes with his one/two-minute frames. And at the end of every episode, it was his performance that I recalled. It was his expressions that burned into my memory. It was his face that left an impact.

For instance, on February 20th 2013 and February 21st 2013, his character had a sequence in the office with Nanhi and Anupama. In the sequence, he raged on about how Nanhi had put herself in danger for a story (even though he used to do the exact same back in the day). During his rant, he paused to ask Anupama for Nanhi’s name. When Nanhi answered with Navika, his eyes went from narrowed-in-hell-fury to completely vulnerable, hopeful, and tormented. It would be an understatement to say that I was in shock. I had never, ever, seen any actor’s (or human being, for that matter) eyes become so emotionally exposed, so naked. It was astonishing. It was beautiful in the most painful sense of the word.

The episodes were about Nanhi and her hunt. All I remember is Kunal in that single shot. I remember that I kept telling my sister: He is not human. That is not humanly possible.

I could list numerous examples of how Mohan as a character was quite oppressed in both seasons, how his journey was never given much space, and how Kunal’s scenes would be shown mid-conversation and cut before they were even completed (while others would have long stretches of time for their characters). However, not much can be done about that now. Personally, I am relieved that I was not a part of India-Forums when NBT was still on-air. I would have driven people insane with my posts, including myself.

Before moving on to the character study, I would like to point out that I do not consider myself a fan of any actor. I become a fan of characters, yes. And I admire some actors such as Kunal. I support them in their work. I enjoy their performances. Thus this character study will focus on Mohan Bhatnagar as in the character, but through Kunal’s flawless portrayal of him, of course. It will not focus on Kunal as an actor alone.

Furthermore, the links added in the study are, in fact, short videos that show a glimpse of Mohan Bhatnagar as well as the relationships in his life.

Without further procrastination…

The Character Study of Mohan Bhatnagar

If you are expecting a pink depiction of Mohan, a romantic painting of a man whose love was so potent that it touched your very soul, then my study will only disappoint you. Because I see Mohan as a man who loved people with such potent purity, such honesty, that it ruined him.

The final episode with the happy ending was an illusion to me. It satisfied my heart in the sense that a huge part of me needed to see Mohan happy, rewarded for his sacrifices. However, 1) his reward was supposed to be more than Megha and 2) Mohan would have never been able to return to the way that he used to be, because he had lost too much of himself in the process of proving his worth to everyone else.

The song choice was on purpose because I see Mohan Bhatnagar as a broken man who clung to a love that destroyed him; a man who clung to relationships that ruined him; relationships that throttled his soul. That smile and positivity he wore like clothes was nothing but a charade behind which you would find someone carrying immeasurable pain, disappointment, and hurt. To others, his smile and confidence and consistent positive behaviour provided life, inspiration, and power. But no one – perhaps with the exception of Guru – saw the man behind the mask.

Despite what the writers wanted to show (true love conquers all), studying Mohan and following him from scene to scene, I took away something else; only invest as much into a relationship that you can afford to lose; do not seek happiness in someone else – find it in yourself first; finally, do not define yourself based on how people see you. People can be wrong. I took away that even if they reject you, it does not mean that something is wrong with you. It does not mean that you are not worthy of their love. Sometimes it is the other way around.

Basically, I focused on what could be learned from Mohan’s journey rather than the love story. Perhaps this will seem provocative to fans of the on-screen couple, but the relationship between Mohan and Megha was destructive. It was not an epic romance. It was an addiction. It was Mohan’s bane.

I am certain that a lot of people will disagree with me. But that is the beauty of perception, is it not? No one sees the world in the exact same way.

3) Who is Mohan Bhatnagar?

I didn’t mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank. But that is not the same thing.

Conrad in The Secret Sharer and Other Stories

Son

Brother

Journalist

Social worker

Friend

Hero

Husband

Father

Son-in-Law

Mohan had many names. He played many roles in people’s lives – family, friends, and strangers alike. But none of the abovementioned titles represent him as what he essentially was.

Human

Perhaps it was the reason why everything went wrong in his life. People saw him as something other than human. When he touched their lives, his beauty and charm and life-force sunk into their hearts, pumping into their veins and empowering them. Perhaps if they had seen him as a human, as someone capable of feeling the same amount of pain and despair as any other person, they would not have punished him for his flaws or demanded painful promises. They would not have expected him to deliver beyond the limit.

Perhaps.

But then it was not people that punished him. It was not people that wounded him. It was family – or at least those that he considered family.

Mohan Bhatnagar, stripped down to the very bone, was a young man from a troubled home. He lacked the acceptance of his father, the presence/support of his mother, and the warmth of a close-knit family. In his eyes, he was abandoned by his parents and girlfriend. He was rejected. He focused his life on his work, not only because it gave him some kind of soul purpose, but also because he had something to prove. Mohan pushed people away, constantly, because he needed to see them fight for him; to prove that, yes, he was worth fighting for, worth loving.

Mohan was the kind of character that held so much flawed beauty and so much perfect imperfection, so much pure intent and mad mistakes that one could not help but fall for him. I could relate to him in more ways than one. I connected with him through his internal struggles; his abandonment issues and cynical/sarcastic attitude (which at times appeared to be a shield against the world as much as a personality trait), his resentment toward his parents, his insecurities and self-doubt, his need to be loved and accepted, his fear of being rejected again, his fear of being unworthy of love/family, and his mistakes.

To me, it grounded him. It made him real. It made him tangible. I could connect with it all through Kunal’s performances of every facet of Mohan and that made me emotionally attached to him. Kunal is one actor who seems to mentally crawl inside the skin of his character. He speaks with such conviction, every detail completely fine-tuned, performed with finesse. There is a thought and a purpose behind every motion as well as emotion, but it does not feel unnatural. For instance when Mohan cried on the show, Kunal would draw air into his lungs and hold it there, shoulders lifted, as if a sob was stuck in his throat, as if the pain inside of him was too great to unleash. And often, he would bear an expression that did not contort into anything dramatic. Instead a twitch of a facial muscle or the sorrow in his eyes would speak of more than just hurt – it would speak of a pain so intense that it made me feel sick for him.

I also fell for the idealist in Mohan; even as I could not relate to that part of him on the same level. Though at times, it frustrated me – to the point that I wanted to shake him. For instance the absolute honesty with which he cared/acted (regardless of what it cost him), his empathy (which made him feel others pain and made him want to ease it; sometimes it would make him put on a positive act for others – even if he was incinerating from the inside), his pure intentions/heart (often leading to people misunderstanding him or misjudging him, and him losing more than he could afford to on an emotional level).

The more others rejected him, the more he fought to be in their lives, to become worthy of their love and adoration; even if that meant changing himself entirely for them.

There were times when I wanted to hold him because he was coming apart and no one was there to see it. There were times when I wanted to yell at him and tell him to stop fighting for the people who could never and would never understand him, his worth, his sacrifices, or his pure heart. There were times when I just wanted to throttle Megha and – plainly speaking – did not feel that she deserved him or his love. The latter being something that remained constant to me throughout both seasons. Apart from Guru, no one came anywhere even close to comprehending what Mohan was made of.

In the end, I always found that Mohan was alone. Even when standing in a crowded room, surrounded by his so-called family, Mohan looked alone – like an outsider; in the same room, but not a part of the same world. Looking through a window, staring at the ones he loved; Megha, Nanhi, Addu, Jijibua, and so on. I specifically recall one scene in which he had returned with Munna (whom everyone believed to be Addu) and the family rejoiced in the living room. Mohan shrunk into the background, as if he was an awkward extra limb that did not fit anywhere.

I never felt, at any point on the show, that his worth was acknowledged or that he was valued by anyone, except for Guru and Rimjhim (and Bala after the second leap). I never felt that he was ever fully accepted. That he was ever really seen for who he was and what he had done for people. In one scene, Megha told Vasu about Mohan, about what a good man he was, but it sounded empty to my ears. Hollow. Simply because her words did not even begin to describe what Mohan had gone through for her, or what he had sacrificed.

Mohan did not become an iconic character because of the idealistic dimension to him. No, I believe that he became an iconic character because of how human he was underneath it and because of Kunal’s portrayal of that humanity. When people rejected him, it hurt him deeply. He would not always put on a brave front to mask the pain. He would break down in tears. He would yell. He would throw things, act out. He would resent God and the world. He would fight with everyone. And then he would feel horrible for it and make amends.

4) The Becoming of Spiderman

Mohan started out a one-dimensional character. I did not find his characterisation manifold in the initial episodes. For instance in the first month he had very few scenes in which he was shown chasing Koyal or bickering with Megha. His characterisation was underwhelming. I did not understand his purpose — other than that he was supposed to fall in love with our female lead at some point.

But I had seen it before; boy hates girl, girl hates boy, and yet they fall in love with each other against all odds. Lovers bound by fate and et cetera, et cetera.  What I needed was character depth. Mohan had to have a story to tell beyond his relationship with Megha.

Yes, I found him unique in ways; his profession was crime reporting (refreshing), his shoelaces were never tied, he was all over the place, he was a mess (yet Kunal somehow made him seem classy), and whenever he opened his mouth, it was to toss a remark, which (unlike other male characters on TV) made him seem cocky rather than arrogant. There was no arrogance in Mohan. That was a relief. I was entirely fed up with the arrogant bad boys of Indian TV (as an editor in chief, Kunal never overdid the light air of superiority – even as Vasu, he kept his character grounded).

I could not see what was so special about Mohan Bhatnagar. Not in the start. Not until I noticed Kunal. The moment I realised what he was capable of, what he was doing, Mohan became intriguing. He slowly began to reveal subtle nuances in his character – not because they had always been there, but because he started to supply them. For instance when he fired a sarcastic response at Guru, his words would be harsh, but the sentiment behind it, the way that he voiced it changed the entire meaning of it. With his performance, his body language and expressions and underlying sentiments in his voice, he provided me with a clear picture of the relationship between him and Guru – a much clearer picture than the actual story had given. There was more to their relationship than that of a master and a servant. I realised this through Kunal and the actor who portrayed Guru.

There were so many similar examples in the first season in which Kunal provided the layers to his character rather than the other way around. For instance he gave Mohan distinctive habits; hands on his hips, his ‘are yaar’ and ‘sun na’, his speedy walk, his constant hair-shoves, how he sucked in his cheeks when emotional, and so on. Looking at Mohan at his other characters, they all had distinctive habits that made them more real, e.g. Vasu tended to stalk around with hooded eyes, a swag, and he planted his hands on his hips and swayed slightly (a trait that connected beautifully with Mohan in season one, minus the swaying part, whereas Mohan in season two took on new habits such as arms folded over his chest).

Thus fleeting glances of Mohan told me nothing about him, his relationships. But Kunal’s portrayal of him showed me everything and more.

Honestly, if it had been any other actor in Mohan’s shoes, I doubt that I would have experienced the many dimensions to his character. I doubt that I would have observed and interpreted the things that I have, nor read between the lines whenever he expressed one emotion that connected to another and another, etc. (One noteworthy scene among many being when Mohan sees Megha at Meethi’s sangeet and imagines that he approaches her – in that scene, Kunal portrayed all stages of Mohan’s emotional journey in nothing but two minutes; shock, joy, sadness, pain, hope, caution, love, and even bravery).

For me, Kunal made Mohan multidimensional through his portrayal of him. Indeed, it was him who took the character beyond the written word, beyond the shallow frame.

That is not to discredit the writers behind the creation of the character. When you create a character in a story, you pen him down in as many details as you can. But you can never know the wholecharacter – not until you have journeyed with him. It must be an incredibly rewarding experience as a writer to see your work translated on-screen by an actor of Kunal’s calibre who “co-wrote” Mohan merely through his layered performances.

(Needless to say, when you write for TV, you are limited as well. You might not have the same freedom to develop a character in the way that you want. External forces might decide how and when your character should bend – they might even decide his fate. Truman Capote once said that finishing a book is like you took a child out into the backyard and shot it. I wonder what he would say about channels hijacking writers’ stories.)

Mohan in season one was vastly different from Mohan in season two. In season one, you saw a young man who started out confident and content, but fell into a relationship with people that were like a drug to him. And they gnawed away at his confidence, his self-belief, his sense of self-worth, and sent him down a dark path. In the second season, you saw a matured man burdened by guilt and all but obsessed with proving his love for the same people who destroyed him. You saw a man who could have been happy with what he had achieved in the past 12 years, but who continued to seek acceptance and love from them, who continued to believe that he had something to prove, and who could not see what he had, at times, because the addiction occupied every fibre of his being.

[tripovershadows]

Wordcount: 2,510

Set in Tyria after the restoration of Lion's Arch, this piece showcases a member of the Vigil reporting back to superiors about a mission that did not go smoothly or to plan and how the different modes of re-telling the same event can result in very different impressions depending on the motivations behind selecting one voice over another to convey information.

Content Warning: this piece contains fleeting and non-detailed references to cult practices, blood magic, self-flagellation, combat-based injury, demonic possession, and post-event mental trauma.

The sound of waves and shrieking gulls over Sanctum Harbor filtered into Sesyria's study, his bunched-up knuckles stroking back and forth across pursed lips as he considered the in-progress report upon his desk.

Summarising this particular event posed a challenge to the sylvari tactician. He often found himself paused on multiple occasions cradling his head in his hand, rubbing his thumb against his temple, and needing to ease a hard tension in his jaw.

Pushing himself up from his desk, Sesyria paced the length of his top-floor quarters. Agitated strides drew him to the window where he wasted some time watching a small fishing vessel offload a modest catch. It was better than their last haul, he observed. Forcing himself away from the marina scene, he instead moved to examine the bookcases and scowled at the thin layer of dust settled along the page edges and down the spines. He could tell from the scrape on the shelf the last time each book had been removed and his hand twitched with the desire to wipe everything down in a burst of furious procrastination.

Sesyria could identify the uncharacteristic air of nervous energy in him. In the face of the rest of the guild, he was the pillar, the leader they looked to with unshakable focus and discipline. No-one was more aware of that expectation than Sesyria himself. This was why his moments of ill-focused needed forcing into specific, private spaces, away from the keen eyes of most of his team. Sesyria had two versions of himself to manage: the Sesyria who was guild leader and the Sesyria who was a member of the Vigil.

On this day, his two selves were at odds. Some impulsive ill-choices on the part of one of his guild members put Sesyria in a position where he would need to produce an incident report for his Vigil superiors. Sesyria was beholden to the Vigil and responsible for his band of non-Pact mercenaries. No matter how uncomfortable this felt, he needed to fulfil his commitments.

The heavy wooden chair groaned as Sesyria drove his weight back in then secured himself into the desk by dragging himself closer, the feet of the chair growling against the floor like an unwilling dog on a leash

After allowing himself one final moment to press his forehead against the bridge formed with his long, silver-birch fingers, Sesyria drew in a long, deep breath through his nose, then picked up his papers to re-read what he had written thus far.

Phoenix 77 1328 AE

Assistance was requested in an subterranean temple space in Malchor's Leap, North East of Blighted Arch. The distress call was roused by Necromancer Ordaen after Whispers Agent Hakkyuu failed to meet the designated rendezvous point for a planned group exploration into the Grenthian temple.

The exploration was undertaken as an independent action and is not associated with, nor sanctioned by, the Order of Whispers, The Pact, or any other associated organisation.

Necromancer Ordaen's personal interest in the location derived from the discovery of a long-inactive sect of Orrian Grenth worshippers who were believed to have employed self-flagellation as both an act of devotion and a means of enhancing their proficiency for hemomancer. Necromancer Ordaen wished to procure remains of these clerics for investigative purposes and initially contacted Agent Hakkyuu for assistance.

The intent was to investigate the uncharted site as a collective group, however Agent Hakkyuu pre-maturely infiltrated the ruins as a solo unit, without any prior scouting, and neglected to alert other members of the investigative team of his intended course of action.

"That idiot," Sesyria muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses as a creep of cold discomfort picked its way up his neck.

Really, there was absolutely nothing surprising about Hakkyuu's choice of action－Sesyria had known and worked with Hakkyuu for several years before the formation of the guild and he knew of Hakkyuu's sporadic tendencies intimately. Arguably, those very tendencies were the reason the two had met in the first place amidst a clash with bandits in Kessex Hills. The details of that meeting varied depending one which of the two of them was regaling the tale and how much wine had been consumed. In more recent years, the Tactician had come to partly accept that his careful strategising may always go array at any given moment whenever Hakkyuu was even remotely involved.

Honestly, Hakkyuu straying from the the plan was the only thing Sesyria could ever safely bet on when strategising.

Through a lack of sufficient pre-mission reconnaissance, Agent Hakkyuu inadvertently disturbed a Lich.

Upon our arrival on site, myself and Warmaster Kyinnlen discovered that the Lich had forcibly taken control of Agent Hakkyuu's body and proved to be hostile and dangerous.

After swift assessment of the situation and threat level, I concluded that:

- Engaging the Lich was unavoidable - The primary mission goal needed immediate alteration to include Agent Hakkyuu's extraction - No-one present in that moment possed the suitable skillset to appropriately incapacitate Agent Hakkyuu

Having drawn these conclusions, I instructed Warmaster Kyinnlen to retrieve Agent Hakkyuu's mentor－Secondborn Aurus－from base camp. I opted to stay and maintain visual contact on the Lich.

Sesyria shoved himself back heavily into his chair, one hand drawn up and sinking into his burgundy head-leaves as he closed his amber eyes.

The report, by design, was devoid of the stakes and emotions involved, but reading it over transported Sesyria back into that dank cavern with its brine-soaked Orrian architecture and death-tinged winds rushing through on the pull of the tide.

He remembered Kyinnlen and himself stepping into the poorly lit cave, spectral flames flickering in the corners of the abandoned temple that played tricks on the eyes and mind as shadow and light danced together on irregular angles and giggled together in hidden corners.

He remembered the two of them drawing closer, Kyinnlen brave and battle-ready in his armor, his youthful pale-green face resolute in its focus, but his soft eyes awash with fear and concern for the state of their reckless comrade.

In the central space, an impression of a ghostly form swept in old cloth hovered behind a very familiar figure.

For a human, Hakkyuu was already striking at best and disturbing at worst－silver-white hair, sharp purple eyes, and an intense presence that instantly filled any room, he didn’t cut the typical look of a man who haled from Ebonhawke. Despite that, Sesyria recalled how wrong his human comrade looked when he and Kyinnlen arrvied.

Hakkyuu stood shorter than most human men, but he tended to stand upright with his back straight and head held high, radiating a confidence that created the impression of height that he physically lacked. In that cave, however, Hakkyuu looked like he was sleeping upright, his head lolled to one side, shoulders slumped, lips slightly parted, and eyes open but drooping and glassy.

That was the first time Sesyria felt the cold creep up his spine, a sensation that had yet to fully leave him and would spider-walk its way up his back rapidly whenever his mind drew him back into that cave.

Without ever directly saying as much, Sesyria considered the silver-haired idiot more than a colleague. He and Hakkyuu spent regular evenings together, nursing their way through a bottle of wine (two on a good night, three on a bad one) where Hakkyuu would complain that the wine would be better if it were whiskey, yet continued to drink something with a taste he didn’t care for purely for the social aspect.

Sesyria knew Hakkyuu's humour and disposition well, knew what set off his strange moods, could spot the onset of his insufferable twitchy fingers that tended to spell that Hakkyuu was getting ready to do something irritating. He knew Hakkyuu's daily routines, where he liked to spend his time, who he especially liked to affectionately harass, where his insecurities lay, and what chilled him. Kyinnlen may be Sesyria's lover, but Hakkyuu was his best friend.

Perhaps Sesyria decision to remain and send Kyinnlen away to collect Aurus was a poor one.

The battle was gruelling, one that blurred the lines between Hakkyuu's inclination toward battlefield bloodlust with the interests of the spectral puppeteer. The overlap of the two entities in one body made Hakkyuu's otherwise terrifying accuracy more haphazard, his twin blades impacting harshly against Sesyria’s Arcane magic that he’d forged into shields and deflective waves.

While Hakkyuu’s precision was downgraded, there was no decrease in aggression or power. Hakkyuu's speed had always been his greatest gift and most honed ability. Sesyria still experienced mental flashes of Hakkyuu's pale limbs flinging sharp objects toward him in unpredictable, untrained directions, keeping Sesyria on the back foot in his attempts to avoid and counter the onslaught as he called forward defensive walls of wind, waves of earth, and pillars of ice to protect himself.

Sesyria knew he would never win against Hakkyuu in hand-to-hand combat. It was never about winning, it was about stalling just long enough for Kyinnlen to bring Aurus－the only person Sesyria knew had enough physical fortitude, mental stability, and personal experience with Hakkyuu to subdue him. Sesyria didn't need to win, just survive and make sure the Lich didn't take off.

Not winning also didn't mean unscathed.

Absently, in the future safety of his office, Sesyria rubbed a hand over his forearm, feeling a dull ache of where his botanical body was still steadily knitting itself back together after Hakkyuu's blade had found flesh several weeks ago. Golden sap had soaked into Sesyria's light armor, trickled down his arm, trailed between his fingers as he shakily gripped his staff and－

Breathe.

Refocus.

Return.

He was in Lion's Arch. In his office. At his desk. The injuries were healing. The battle was over. He was alive.

Sesyria leaned forward and resumed writing.

The ensuing conflict showed none of Agent Hakkyuu's customary cognitive or combative capabilities. This lends credibility to the theory that he was without control of his faculties for the full duration of this encounter. 

Agent Hakkyuu was ultimately subdued and given medical attention after the Lich was fully extracted.

Sesyria shook his head as he wrote the word 'subdued' as the reality was far less elegant.

In point of fact, Aurus virtually by-passed physical combat entirely and went for the most straight-forward route: simply knocking out his ex-mentee by clocking him hard at the back of his skull at the earliest possible opportunity. Sesyria watched in dumbstruck awe, almost embarrassed at how the Secondborn made that look disgustingly easy as Sesyria stood shaking and bleeding in the aftermath, all his stamina virtually spent.

Tall and foreboding, with an impassive stare that was locked on Hakkyuu the moment he entered the subterranean temple, Aurus remained one the largest sylvari Sesyria had ever met. If his insecurities were held closer to the surface, Sesyria may have felt inadequate in comparison and not up to the task of leading their band of misfits. Luckily, Sesyria had more self-assurance than that.

He had watched Aurus approach the situation with a kind of stony physical embodiment of Ventari's teachings－full of wisdom and strength and inner stability, a natural respect for all things regardless of their intent, and an obvious sense of conviction when undertaking a course of action.

After Aurus subdued Hakkyuu and gathered the human’s unconscious form into his arms, the rest of Sesyria's memories were in partial form at best. He vaguely recalled Aurus calling Ordaen forward to shatter the hold the Orrian spirit held on Hakkyuu's body. He remembered Kyinnlen beside and wrapping a support arm around the back of the tactician's shoulder, because that’s just the sort of thing Kyinnlen would do. And he knew, conceptually speaking, he must have felt a dull ache pulsating from various parts of his body from where Hakkyuu's blades had bitten into the ashen leafy outer layer of Sesyria's skin to draw out trickles of thick gold.

What he remembered without any doubt was the sensation of relief and exhaustion, like he'd just finished a several-mile sprint that left his limbs heavy, his energy drained, and his mind foggy. There were far worse outcomes for that scenario; Sesyria had mentally plotted out at least twenty-five.

I conclude that during this battle, Agent Hakkyuu was neither in a sound state of mind, nor in control of his physical functions. 

It is my unwavering opinion, corroborated by the expertise of Necromancer Ordaen, that Agent Hakkyuu was categorically under the possessive influence of an ancient Orrian spirit and therefore bears no responsibility for his actions outside of poor initial judgement.

It is also my belief that all parties involved either have or will experience full physical recovery.

While questions remain about Agent Hakkyuu's mental and emotional recovery, I am satisfied that he will be fit to return to field work in due course and am willing to attest as much to an Order of Whispers official if required.

That, as far as Sesyria was concerned, the most diplomatic way he could record how disinclined Hakkyuu was to talk about his state of mind post-possession. Par the course for Hakkyuu, any attempt to speak with the human about his brush with the invasive spirit had received a rather curt response of "I'm fine." That was Hakkyuu's way of telling everyone to drop the subject and back the hell off.

Weeks had passed since Sesyria and Kyinnlen stood on the damp precipice of the Orrian worship site, but sometimes Sesyria experienced a coil in his stomach when he caught a salty-sweet scent sweeping through Lion's Arch from the bay. Sometimes his throat would close up for a split-second when a flame bent the shadows in unexpected ways out the corner of his eye. Sometimes, he would look over to Hakkyuu in the safe, secure home that Sesyria had bought for them, and his chest would tighten with the realisation if they had arrived even a few moments later, if he hadn't been able to hold the Lich's attention long enough, or if he had misjudged the deployment of any one of his spells, that they may not have all returned home that day.

What disturbed Sesyria more than his own memories though was the fact Hakkyuu refused to speak about what he experienced under the Lich's influence－what he’d heard, what he’d seen. If Sesyria found himself routinely sat bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night with Kyinnlen's concerned hand on his arm, he couldn’t imagine what spindled visions crept through Hakkyuu's mind from the time he spent as the Orrian's temporary puppet.

Dragging the quill against the parchment to form its customary scratch of his name, Sesyria pushed back his chair abruptly, deciding he needed some fresh air and Kyinnlen's calming tones to soothe away the memories haunting his mind.

[kayawagner]

Terrible Habits

Amongst other things I am an indie game developer and a hobbiest programmer. This means that I often find that if I cannot find just the right game or just the right gaming tool it is extremely tempting to create my own.

I really enjoy creating games and adventures. I really enjoy the challenge of learning new skills particularly when I am programming. Right now I am dabbling with Android programming using Java. I can write apps but the next thing I want to get to grips with is changing activities by swiping left or right.

So what has this to do with bad habits?

All of this stuff I do for fun. It costs me nothing to write a game, they are after all simply Word Documents until you decide to take things further. It costs nothing to code a phone app. They take time but they are fun so it is free entertainment.

The bad habit is procrastination. I was chatting with Michael recently, early November I think, and I said that  have a habit of writing blog posts when I am supposed to be doing other things. Well here I am again avoiding doing something that I will enjoy doing by writing blog posts.

So the thing I am avoiding is writing a adventure game book. I imagine that we have all read or played one of these at some point in the past. I started with Warlock of Firetop Mountain and I actually replayed the Sorcery! series last year when I was on holiday.

How I came to start on this journey is rather circuitous. We were talking on the Rolemaster forums about the target audience for the new edition of Rolemaster. Some people seemed think that a new version of Rolemaster would draw in new players from DnD. That is where the first players came from back in the early 1980s for the first edition of Rolemaster.

I tend to disagree. I can find no evidence that new games gain market share from the DnD following. It is more a case that people who play DnD may dabble with other games but tend to keep going back to DnD. If you ever have to change who you play with, because you have moved or your regular group broke up then it is a thousand times easier to find DnD players than any other system.

I was looking at my own habits and those of people I know who tend to play the widest variety of games. The common factor seems to be that we are always moving on. We pick up a game, play it for a while and then something else comes out and that takes our fancy so we pick that up and play that. The process is never ending. What this means for the smaller indie games producers is that although they may sell a couple of hundred copies of their game, the number of people in the market for follow on books is potentially very small. Take Zweihänder for example. I was looking at the Grim and Perilous Library today. The best selling third party supplement has sold less that 100 copies in four months and yet Zweihänder itself has sold something like 10,000 copies.

So it has been bubbling away in the back of my mind as to where do you get new players from.

Jump forward a few weeks and there was an indie game developer on MeWe who was rattling off his design criteria and one of them was to attract new players. I asked how was he intending to do that and the response was to make the game very close to DnD. I thought that those are not new players they are just new customers. A totally different thing. As part of that discussion it came out that one of  the perceived problems with introducing new players was ‘info dump’. Introducing a new setting, all the rules that make up an RPG, all the options for creating characters and so on. Some of these you can avoid by using pre-gen characters for new players. All the character generation choices are taken away and they get to see a model character and how it all hangs together before they have to create their own.

I then had my thought. A game book is a great way of introducing a a setting. You get all the words you need to describe the setting, key NPCs and set the tone. It is easy enough to create a cut down version of any rule set to fit in with the game but at the same time introduce a games core mechanic. At the end of a game book you can prompt people with the idea of limitless adventures if they upgrade to the full RPG version. Game books are a an ideal ‘gateway drug’ for RPGs and every game book reader that you convert into a role player is a completely new person introduced to the hobby.

The advantages don’t end there. A game book is free to create, just like any game it just takes time, creativity and effort. It is free to publish thanks to POD, Drivethrufiction and Amazon’s Direct Publishing.

People pay for books, so what I am seeing as an advert to hook people into buying games, other people are prepared to pay good money for. The average game books seems to be selling for about £4 (€5/$5).

Looking at the actual task of writing a game book at they are remarkably short. Tradition says they are 400 paragraphs long and the average paragraph is just 50 words. Some are much longer but they are balanced by “Your adventure ends here” when you die. 400×50 is just 20.000 words. Compared to a novel 20k words is pretty short, or manageable depending on your point of view.

The ‘direct route’ through a game book is typically 75 paragraphs  or about 4.000 words which feels quite doable. The rest is alternative routes, additional encounters and dead ends. This blog post is over 1.000 words and has only taken half an hour to produce.

So here I am I have a game book to write. If I get on with it I could write it in a matter of days. If I do write it I could earn a few pounds in sales, and then earn a few more pounds in selling copies of my own games and I will have introduced a few more people into the pleasure of role playing. A truly virtuous circle.

But what am I actually doing? I am writing a blog post about how I am avoiding doing what I am supposed to be doing to avoid the thing I am supposed to be doing.

Terrible habit isn’t it!

Related posts:

Confessions of a terrible GM

Long Running Reviews

Long Silence!

Terrible Habits published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Girls’ Last Tour 1 - 2 | Juuni Taisen 4 - 5 | Ancient Magus’ Bride 2 - 3 | Idolish7 1 - 2

The only one I’ve properly kept up with out of my 5 shows this season is Juuni Taisen, so I’m going to roll out the tag for that show first. Also, the Idolish7 first two episodes became free recently so I cover them here too.

Girls’ Last Tour 1

Pipes…grunge…hey, doesn’t this look familiar? *glares at Princess Principal*

I’ve only seen one episode of Made in Abyss but I get a bad feeling about these character designs…

I’m worried about this falling into the Yuri Divide. Sure,the fandom can do what it wants, but please don’t ship the lolis.

Oh right. Wind, meaning there’s an opening somewhere.

That dramatic eye opening made the outside world seem like an anticlimax. C’mon, show. You can do better than that.

I feel like Chito says “shut up” a lot, even though she’s only said it twice. I get how she’s kind of relatable, but this show’s not on the level of MMO Junkie or even Juuni Taisen. It’s just kinda…average.

Did Tangled ever teach you how to use a pan, Yuu?

Everything’s kinda WWI-esque. It’s kinda unsettling for a person who’s never properly seen war.

Even in this snowy world, you could still learn to hunt and cook, right?

If you kill your friend in a post-apocalyptic world, you’ll be lonely by war. Don’t kill each other, kiddos. Lives are precious.

This is serious, kiddos! C’mon!

Eating snow is meant to quench your thirst, but it’s not any good for hunger. Apparently.

Well, I’m quite lukewarm on this. I’ve already found my seasonal hits and I study globalisation, so it’s no surprise I find this stuff a lot like my weekly content. Nonetheless, whoever decided to put Classicaloid behind a paywall’s gonna have to pay (pun not intended)!

Girls’ Last Tour 2

I half expect a “hey you!” joke but they don’t work in Japanese…

What are the wiggly things on the ground next to Chi and Yuu in the OP??? Leeches???

Oh geez. Now they even draw cleavage on the lolis. Meaning these guys are just drawn young. That’s both a good and a bad thing.

Those letters seem to be…no language in particular.

Book burning. What a thing to throw in.

Oh. The blocky writing is actually hiragana or katakana. You just need to look at it closely.

I think that was meant to be comedy…but it was so cruel. Poor book.

I think what they’re saying is “don’t burn history”, but I think we learnt that a long time ago when the Chinese burnt books.

Maybe if these gals had Bear Grylls they’d survive a bit longer…?

Lemme guess: either Yuu burnt them all, destroyed them all or read them all.

The original joke was gomen wa, where ne is similar to wa. At least, I think it’s a wa. It could be a re.

The red circle said Yuu wrote the me wrong, so it’s actually probably gonun ne.

Well, someone funded a sakuga ending. Like the one from ACCA with dancing Lotta.

Juuni Taisen 4

I find it heavily symbolic that Nezumi likes eating eggs. Eggs represents chickens…and conundrums…

Ooh…bam. Nisio Isin’s going the Middle Eastern proxy route.

Hmm. Interesting, it’s basically Bystander Effect: the War.

The anime’s currently ahead of the manga, so I got slightly startled by Boar’s appearance. However, I’ve read some spoilers elsewhere, so I knew she was going to be in Monkey’s story somewhere else. I just didn’t think it was this soon.

Recycled footage…bad show! Bad!

LOL, CGI tank. Sorry for ruining the mood, but that stood out a bit too much for my liking.

“…participation is mandatory…” – Huh. I never saw that detail coming.

“Ow. I thought you were against violence.” – (LOL.) Yeah, but apathy isn’t good when something’s coming to get you in the sewers, so I’m with Monkey on this.

Wa-wait! Y’mean, Rabbit can use Chicken to use Eye of the Cormorant…so Monkey will die this ep??? [Monkey dying]’s exactly what I’ve been fearing for the duration of this episode. Update: If you want the spoiler version from the end of the ep…she didn’t die.

Notice Monkey uses moves that use the strength of her opponent against her. It’s a very pacifist touch, so to speak.

There are a series of images that flash by before the casual clothes part of the ED. If you observe them closely, you’ll see a lot of them involve the number 12. (Example: the cubes have lines on them that read “12”.)

LOL, I think I only just now spotted the bodyguard behind Boar. He’s hard to spot behind all the splatter.

Home boy and his T-bars make me laugh every time. Then of course, there’s Mr Floofy Jacket.

Oh, it’s Duodecuple who’s doing these next ep previews. I couldn’t figure out who it was last time I tried.

Juuni Taisen 5

Genius, with a capital letter? They keep calling him the Genius of Slaughter in his backstory, so I guess that’s where it’s from.

A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing is the same in Japanese as it is English, so at least the pun is there.

LOL, this episode is pretty much all “stuff goes kaboom!”, and that’s pretty much the way of the Sheep. Haha.

Of mice and men, eh??? (I read enough spoilers to know who the victor is…but I don’t know how they win.)

Whoa, yeah, baby! Bring that action! (That happens to be exactly the way I imagine my own action stories – from the front seat, so to speak.)

The snake’s winking! So cute! I want me some plushies like those!

Old-Timer. Haha, great pun on so many, many levels.

Ancient Magus’ Bride 2

I started doing a productivity blog and got caught up in it so much, I neglected anime! Imagine that – me, neglecting anime!

Oh, there’s a little “open” sign near the door.

It’s anime Hogwarts! Only the train is more colorful…LOL. (Actually, Little Witch Academia is anime Hogwarts, so scratch that.)

Ooh, Elias has a good taste in faces. Not that I’m complaining or anything. (Looks like En-chan, to boot.)

Elias is like the NEET genius of the magic world here. It’s kinda funny.

What’s a Gem’s Bee? (No spoilers, I’m not a manga reader!)

Angelica’s like her (Chise’s) mother, LOL. Seeing Elias properly emote is hilarious, hilarious! (Why I procrastinated on this show? Because it’s a slow mover that should be appreciated in its own time, but I’m not good with binging so…that’s why I’m only watching it now.)

Oh! No wonder Angelica seems like a mother. She is a mother.

Ooh! Ice flowers. Pretty. I’ve already gotten way too many screenshots for my own good out of this show…As a writer, I feel like I could never make a story like this.This is a story best fostered under someone else’s hand.

Poppies, eh? To me, poppies symbolise war and sticking out, but that’s just a product of where I was born. In the case of war, poppies represent the blood of the fallen and those who rise above that.

Speaking of stories I couldn’t write, I’m currently bringing Next to Me to a close. I feel like that’s my best match to AMB, which is why my thoughts dwell on stories so much right now. Next to Me is one of those stories where the world matters just as much as the character building, if not more, which is why the understated majesty of AMB is a good match.

Seeing a blonde Englishman use –kun like a Japanese is a bit disorienting.

Simon really treats Chise like a child, eh?

The “open” sign now says “close”. What is this house, an apothecary?

The CGI door was a bit weird…

Whoa! That was a bit of a fast approach into the dragon scene, but apparently the dragon part of AMB was really hyped…

Ancient Magus’ Bride 3

How does skelly-man see like that?

The dragons look like…Pokémon! (That was my first thought, LOL.)

This blonde is Lindel from the promo material I’ve read. He looks like zaShunina (Kado), so it’s best to be wary of him.

Ooh, now there’s an application of shadows I’d never be able to think of!

Holy flame spirits, Batman! Elias has a tongue! (I got spoilered on that by ANN, but it’s crazy seeing it in context.)

Ancient mages shouldn’t be hot like zaShunina! Where are the real old fogeys like Kiku(hiko, SGRS)?

Uncle Nevin! I found it extremely charming this uil has a name beyond “Uil”.

Can these dragons read minds? Or is it just the power of Dragon Knowledge (TM)?

When they say “Anime saved my life”, I guess they never meant it this literally…or at least, Chise never meant it this literally.

That dragon has way too many eyes!!! Yipes.

Huh. I haven’t felt this feeling since SGRS. The feeling of a masterpiece on my eyeballs.

羽鳥チセ <- That’s how you write Chise’s name, so they did another “Western creature uses Japanese knowledge” thing…

D’aww. That was beautiful! No wonder people like it, now I like it too. Nothing short of majestic, guys, nothing short of majestic.

Hey, the guy who voiced Nevin is called Ryuuzaburo. Ryuu means dragon in this case. (Meta pun!)

Idolish 7 1

Crunchyroll really tried to hype this thing up! Wow. So, here I am at what could pretty much be called a premiere event of the simulcast commentary. Enjoy, friends.

By the way, I’ve tried a bit of the Idolish 7 game (but since it was on BlueStacks, I couldn’t do the “rhythm” part of the rhythm game very well and subsequently couldn’t get too far) and of course, there’s a vested interest through Shirai, Masuda and Nishiyama. Update: There’s no Nishiyama in sight. Sorry, guys.

Oh wow. This is exactly as I remember it in the game, right down to the word!

Yay! I was looking forward to seeing the basketball scene adapted, since it’s possibly the only scene I got to experience in the game in its (Japanese) entirety. Bring the dang game to the Western world, Bandai!

Riku is such a pure cinnamon bun when he gets the basketball back.

LOL, Nagi is such a flirt, kyaa~ (semi-sarcastic).

I don’t remember them dropping Trigger’s name so early…geesh, my memory must be sketchier than I thought it was.

Just as a reference, Iori (black) is 17 while Riku (red) is 18.

Ooh, I just spotted a Trigger ad on one building during that cut.

Ooh, good sense of drama these guys have got going.

Idolish 7 2

Expressiveness for a grump like Yamato, LOL.  

LOL, there’s a shark in the back…

Iori has a cat shirt, hahaha.

Cool and sharp…stationery? Like a compass?

Iori’s so sarcastic, I can’t tell f he’s ever being serious or not.

I don’t know who’s my favourite so far out of these i7 boys. Probably the one similar to my husbando, Tamaki.

Ahh, gotta love me a good, honest hardworking anime gal. You don’t see them very often, y’know. It’s refreshing.

That was a great Iori impression Mitsuki did, even visually (note: I didn’t listen to Mitsuki do the impression, I only read the subs…hence my comment). Troyca really captured the style of the game, to boot, which is another cherry on the cake.

Notice Iori stands in front of the D.C. (da capo) and leaves to reveal it.

I researched who Riku’s brother is while I was watching ep 1 and…(spoilers for the uninitiated!) the brother is Tenn of Trigger!

There was a soba ad in the back in one lingering shot…

Hey, I get the feeling there’s CGI involved in this dance segment, but it’s…hardly detectable! Amazing! These guys seem to have gone a long way since the horribly animated Monster Generation MV.

Notice they (Troyca) only use CGI in (mostly) shots which don’t involve closeups.

Of course Nagi winks in the middle of his performance…

Whoo, yeah. That was a bold move by Crunchyroll, and of course that would grab me more than just leaking the first ep. I wonder if any critics covered this on their blogs…? Or would it not matter, since critics wouldn’t cover this “uncritical slop” anyway? Nonetheless, I covered it, and that’s what matters! (Update: Yeah, all the critics – Frog-kun, Lauren in Space, Mage in a Barrel etc. - passed on it. As expected of those critics…)