#Influential selling book

[britneyshakespeare]

you know i don't use amazon but something i often think about. several years ago my mom ordered me some books for my birthday on amazon and one of them i asked for was the oxford world's classics edition of the rover and other plays by aphra behn edited and with an introduction by jane spencer. it was supposedly new but when it got to me, the cover (paperback) was folded at an angle and the edges of the pages were dirty like they were left somewhere contaminated. and you see i don't mind like a not-pristine book at all; most of my books are used. but what the fuck was that.

[fideidefenswhore]

Both girls were delighted with their new brother-- Mary for maternal reasons, and Elizabeth because it gave her a playmate nearer to her own age. By March 1537, the Sheltons had no longer been in charge of the girls' household, which must have been a relief to Mary.

Elizabeth's Women, Tracy Borman

[bookswagononline]

Top 5 influential self-help books of all time

In a world driven by the benefits of positive thinking in all aspects of life.  One must read

Self- help books for Confidence.  Self- help books offer valuable insights on how to achieve setbacks, transform people and guide individuals on the path of success.  These books help boost morale and chart the path of personal development. From classic books to modern titles; these books have inspired many people to do the unthinkable and lead people towards fulfilling lives.

Best Personality Development Books

Here are a few recommended books on how to up the ante and change yourself. So, what are you waiting for? Read these self- help books for confidence and growth and to change your life.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People:   This is a New York Times Bestseller with over 250 million copies sold. It was also the most influential book of the twentieth century.  So, Dr. Stephen R. Covey emphasis on the renewal and understanding that leadership and creativity require us to transform our mental and spiritual resources. This book has transformed the lives of many presidents and CEO’S, teachers and parents.  The habits have become famous and also transformed the professional lives of the people.  Stephen R. Covey’s vision of habits can be used for many people and to change their lives.

Man’s Search for Meaning:  A prominent Vienesse Psychiatrist before the war, Viktor Frankl was uniquely able to observe the way he and other inmates observed the way he and other inmates coped with the experience of being in Auschwitz.  He noticed men comforting others and giving them their last piece of bread to make them survive the longest and what sort of person becomes is a result of an inner decision and not to concentration camp influences alone.  He also stated in his book that people should have an inner hold on their moral and spiritual selves to subside, became victims to the camp’s degenerating influence and those who conquer their experiences emerge victorious.

 The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom:  In the four agreements, bestselling author Don Miguel Ruiz reveals the source of self- publishing beliefs that may rob us of joy and create endless suffering. It is based on ancient Toltec wisdom. This book offers a powerful code of conduct for a transformation of lives to a new experience of freedom, true, happiness and love.

How to Stop Worrying and Start Living:   If you are constantly on the edge and worry plagues your mind and you end up struggling to conquer it, this book is all you need.  The secret is to bother about whether you are happy, or not?  This book introduces ways to beat fatigue, not to worry and have a mental attitude that will bring peace and happiness and to solve situations, where you will worry a lot.  This is the author’s own set of realizations and experiences.  This book will help to change your future.

Do it Today, Overcome Procrastination, Improve Productivity and Achieve More Meaningful Things:  Are you also tired of putting your dreams at a later date and tomorrow, never comes does it? So, the author tried to procrastinate and delayed the book at a later date, but time is limited and but we cannot avoid things and that is what this book teaches to leave procrastination.  Thirty best articles in this book will improve procrastination and achieve meaningful things in life.

 Click here for self-help books that could make your rich: https://blog.bookswagon.com/2024/01/best-books-on-how-to-make-money-and-become-rich/

So, if you wish to find more ways to become happy, remove worry from your life. Log on to Bookwagon.com to buy self- help books and live a great life of prosperity and solace. Bookswagon is the best online store for many categories of books for all kinds of readers, take your pick from books from other categories, or self- help books for motivation to become motivated and confident.

[ivesambrose]

PAC: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟

1. 2. 3.

For those who are sleeping on their potential or are unaware of it.

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com with your query.

Masterpost

Services Offered

Thanks for the tip!

PICTURE 1

Blessed with the gift of restoring or beautifying things beyond repair. This could be an object, a garment or you, yourself. There's not a single ending or grief that you've faced that you haven't bloomed out of. Perhaps some of you have found inspiration in it as well. You can find beauty in the mundane and the macabre. You'll always find or have access to some hidden resources. Be it esoteric knowledge, classified sources, intuition or people not really in the public eye.

You're sleeping on your gifts of acquiring wealth. Some of you may have limiting beliefs when it comes to money. You have the ability of being extremely influential with your words but you shy away or underestimate yourself. You'd do amazing in selling/promoting/teaching something but you might think you're not glamourous or confident enough. Both of them are a state of your mind. Some of you can be incredible cooks too, make something simple look appealing and taste exquisite regardless of whether you want to profit out of it or not. Some of you are excellent designers, can stitch fabrics together or put something together like a puzzle piece and make it fit even if they aren't supposed to. With enough awe and wonder you can make yourself happy, something you've been avoiding in the pursuit of keeping up with ever yone else and constant comparison or choosing things to pursue that you aren't supposed to but you end up doing so to prove a point that never gets assured.

PICTURE 2

Such caring and tranquil souls who don't realise that they create their opportunities as they go. You don't have to go looking for them, the more you do they'll elude you. Think of it as looking for your glasses while you were wearing them the whole time. Blessed with the capability of changing lives and circumstances through their thought, ideas and words alone. But you think of it as a power so simple and you seek out more complicated things then wonder why you feel stuck and devoid of curiousity and fun. You're sleeping on your potential to go and see what the world has to offer you and what you have to offer to the world. You might think it's too little but that's far from the truth. You've gathered your perceived mistakes and failures so much that they have piled up in your subconscious somehow. The moment you switch them to what you have gratitude towards, they too will add up and will keep multiplying. You'll either way be guided towards your destiny no matter what.

You have helped others release their burdens but it seems as though you still keep carrying yours with the addition of other's as well. Why? You think you can't execute an idea, you think too much time has or will pass you think you have no relevance. You think too much, so why can't you think in your favour more than once? You're stubborn, so why can't you be stubborn with allowing yourself too walk on your path?

There's an opportunity in everything. The moment you make everything ever in your favour as crazy as it sounds, is when you are prosper.

PICTURE 3

There is power in the unspeakable emotions that you feel but prefer not to. You have the ability to evoke the same emotions in others too. You're perhaps searching for examples or validation from others in regards to what you want to do, where you want to go and what you want to become. But the truth is that you're supposed to be your own validation.

You're meant to be your own example, be as eccentric and revolutionary and chaotic as you wish to be. Some of you are a cult classic in the making and don't even realize it yet. You're like a lightning strike, the poet and the muse. You have the gift to visualise/picture things into existence. You are someone's real life comfort character despite it all You're capable of becoming a healer, taking all the pain and turning into power, inspiring the same in others, you're capable of becoming a leader and an extremely influential person. Use your power well. You're meant to be expressive, you're meant to inspire, to create, to perform, to travel and likely be as many characters as you wish and live many lives, each that caters to your inner child. You can't really go step by step with this, there's hardly any method to it except bursts of energy and inspiration that leads you to where you seek to be. Deep down, you're aware that the only way to live up to this is being a bit strict with yourself, completely accepting your power and contradicting yourself less.

You can easily transmute energy, think of yourself as an alchemist, surround yourself with people and friends who share this vision as well, likey you already are. Stop holding yourself back.

[psychicbby]

so fucking emotional at dan howell being named a top 10 influential lgbt+ figure. i can’t stop thinking about how much he went through with the bullying and the self hatred and the years where hoards of people felt entitled to his sexuality and harassed him over it before he could properly put a name to it.

thinking about how dan said when he finally realised and accepted that he’s gay, he spent 2 hours sobbing on a balcony and drinking an entire bottle of rosé. thinking about how dan said he wanted to cancel interactive introverts because he knew he’s gay and felt like he needed time away from everything to process. thinking about the dan howell who went on tour anyway despite this gnawing at him. thinking about how dan took a year off to collect himself and then posted a 45 minute video detailing his journey and struggles with sexuality, self acceptance, outside pressures, and invasive strangers in detail because he owed that to his past self and present self. thinking about 2019 dan saying he wasn’t confident in his sexuality and couldn’t say he was proudly gay. thinking about dan going to london pride that year anyway and walking around with the gay flag and his silly shirt, beaming and radiant like we’ve never seen before.

thinking about the dan howell who wrote a best selling book all about his relationship with mental illness and how his queerness deeply impacted that because he thought that people could use it if needed. thinking about the dan howell who decided to perform a two hour stage show where he made loads of dirty jokes about his gayness to thousands. thinking about the dan howell who wears whatever he wants and posts whatever he wants without having to worry that the internet is going to pick apart every bit of him to see if he’s queer.

thinking about the dan howell now who came back to the gaming channel and now mentions his sexuality in almost every video posted. thinking about the dan howell now who is going on tour where the point is he and phil are gay as fuck and they don’t care anymore and honestly just wanna let their hair down and have fun with their dedicated audience. thinking about the dan howell now who poses with pride flags at m&g as a member of the community, not just an ally. the dan howell who is selling merch stating “dan and phil made me gay” because it’s really funny and he recognises that his audience is mostly queer and feels a sense of community with them. the dan howell who no longer shies away from the existence of phan bc it’s lowkey funny to him. the dan howell of 2024 who was voted in the top 10 influential lgbt+ figures. the dan howell now who is proud of that as a gay person who went through so much shit and came out the other side. no matter how bad it got, it still got better. it took time, but he got there (,:

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

octavinelle’s “happy endings”

***SPOILER WARNING: This post will go into detail about the dreams Azul, Jade, and Floyd experience in the book 7 part 10 update.***

OKAY, so there’s a debate in the TWST fandom about whether or not Azul and the twins consider each other “real” friends or just business partners. I’ve shared my own thoughts on this topic in the past (which you can read here!). After the most recent main story update, it’s now more clear to me than ever that they do treasure each other even if they don’t express that in traditional ways.

Let’s discuss them in order that they appear in book 7 part 10!! I know there’s some vagueness surrounding how much of the dream is Malleus actively controlling the scenarios (hence the limited and shallow scope of them) and how much the dreams actively pull from the innate desires of the dreamer, but for the sake of the argument let’s assume the latter is more influential in shaping and structure of the dreams.

First up, Floyd!

So Floyd is known as the “I do what I want when I feel like it” guy. He hates two main things: 1) being told what to do/having his freedom restrained and 2) being bored. To ensure that Floyd is happy, the dream consistently shifts to locations so he vanishes explore and experience new things.

What you might notice is that Azul and Jade aren’t around in Floyd’s dream. This doesn’t mean they don’t exist or that Floyd doesn’t know who they are though. When asked, Floyd replies that Azul is simply doing his own thing (focusing on his business ventures/schemes) and Jade is there supporting him, thus leaving Floyd to his own devices. The fact that Jade and Azul are still present in Floyd’s dream, just not in an immediate capacity, makes complete sense.

In the waking world, Floyd loves to stir up trouble with his brother and Azul. The thing is, Floyd also dislikes it when they tell him off, order him to do something he’s not in the mood for, or punish him for acting out. Yes, Jade for the most part enables Floyd to misbehave, and yes, Azul has largely learned by now that it’s best to sit back and let Floyd fuck off/finish throwing a tantrum rather than intervene. However, there are still times when they order Floyd around or get upset with him. For example, Azul scolds Floyd for damaging the vault where they keep the contracts in book 3 and for not selling the drinks he’s supposed to in book 5. We see numerous examples across vignettes as well: Jade forces Floyd to stand in line at a famous patisserie for Trey as penance for eating special fruits meant for a VIP client (Trey Labwear vignettes), Azul and Jade wring Floyd for his eel slime (Azul Ceremonial Robes vignettes), Azul orders Floyd to secure the rights to Sam’s Mystery Drink even though Floyd shows a clear disinterest in the task (Floyd Dorm Uniform vignettes), etc.

In spite of these grievances, Floyd doesn’t entirely despise Jade and Azul, nor would he be happier without them. They’re an important part of his life, hence why they still linger in the dream, just in the periphery where they can’t butt in with whatever Floyd wants to do. Jade and Azul aren’t present and compliant since that, too, would quickly bore Floyd. He loves those two goobers in part because they’re chaotic and unpredictable, not because they’re yes men to his every action. The dream might not be able to keep up with that demand; it only seems to operate in extremes rather than conjure enough nuance to keep Floyd stimulated and content. This is why all the places Floyd already visited bored him; he got showered with too many conveniences and eventually got fed up with it all.

If you need even more damning evidence, all previous dreams would manifest someone closely tied to the dreamer in an attempt to keep them in the dreamscape. Who does Floyd’s dream summon? AZUL AND JADE. If Floyd genuinely found them annoying or didn’t want them near, the surely the dream would spawn other people. BUT NO, it specifically spawned THOSE TWO in an effort to convince Floyd. It can be argued that they could very well be a source of hatred since Kalim and Neige showed up for Jamil and Vil respectively, but I genuinely think Floyd doesn’t feel that degree of negativity toward Jade and Azul; the kind of hatred that Jamil and Vil have for their respective counterparts has never been expressed by Floyd toward Jade or Azul.

Floyd reacts to dream!Jade and Azul in a manner that’s very different from the dreamers that came before him… with anger. And a LOT of anger too. He immediately clocks them as phonies and, he, fully waking, demands to know who the fakes are, because they certainly aren’t Jade and Azul. Floyd points out their faces and voices may resemble theirs, but they’re acting in a way that they never would (suggesting a “boring” way of living). That pisses him off to the point where he cuts the fakes down all by himself. Brutal violence aside, this tells us a lot about Floyd... as well as Malleus.

We see that Floyd has become lethargic and bored despite the dream's attempts to sate him, which just demonstrates that Malleus, whose magic has a hand in crafting these realities, has a shallow understanding of what makes people happy. (Edit: to be clear, Malleus having a “shallow understanding” of happiness is not a personal take; this is a direct statement made by Idia in-game and this is where I am pulling my phrasing from.) He thinks that removing all obstacles and challenge to what you want is what leads to a happy ending when, in truth, it clearly isn't the case for Floyd, who craves stimulation and change. While Malleus is motivated outright controlling the details of Floyd’s dream down to the wire, his autonomous magic has decided to get rid of any challenges Floyd may face in his pursuit of happiness. (I would continue about the Malleus portion, but since this post is about the Octatrio, I will instead direct you to this post, which shares many of my own thoughts ^^) I think that's why Floyd truly "woke" when he was faced with dream!Azul and Jade; a part of him recognizes how wrong it is for the two people he chose to spend his time with because they're so fun are now turning around and preaching complacency. It tells us just how well Floyd knows those two and values their... unique perspectives, shall we say?

Next, just Jade!

What's immediately fascinating about Jade's dream is that it's also underwater, despite Floyd and co. suspecting it would be on land/in the mountains. Floyd even changes from his merform to his human form prior to hopping to Jade's dream because he was under the impression that it would be on land. This ends up not being the case, although Malleus's magic does manifest the underwater equivalent of "mountains", which are volcanic vents at the bottom of the sea.

We see Jade happily exploring alongside a dream!Azul and dream!Floyd, who are both very different than the real ones. Dream!Azul has big, watery eyes and is much more of a coward and crybaby than the real Azul is. He also seems to be very dependent on Jade, who derives great joy from watching dream!Azul flail about while trying to attain his goals (in this case, access to a gold vein). This is in-character with what we already know about Jade; he amuses himself by watching others struggle--especially Azul, whom Jade frequently teases, such as tricking him to dance as a mummy in the first Halloween event and comparing Azul's greedy attitude to the positive traits of other dorm leaders. Jade also prefers to have control over the circumstances, so he likes it when people defer to his word or advice. So what better to hand him than an Azul that listens to his every word and also provides entertainment value in his tears?

As for dream!Floyd, he presents with a very goofy face and seems to lack his usual aggression and flippancy. Instead, he has a fixation on eating other sea life around him (crabs, shrimp, etc.) and happily goes along with Jade's mountain exploration. Like dream!Azul, dream!Floyd acts dependent on Jade to guide him and even acts cowardly in a fight. Now we can sort of get a glimpse of how Jade feels about Floyd too. Dream!Floyd's pliant and agreeable nature may come in part from the dream seeking to provide Jade with more free entertainment, but it could also be that Jade wants Floyd to share in his interests. But here Floyd is not gung-ho about mountains; instead, he acts very innocently, almost like a kid going along with whatever his parents decide to do for the day. It gives me the impression that Jade doesn't see Floyd as threatening but as someone cute and child-like. This idea is reinforced when, in an attempt to keep Jade dreaming, dream!Azul tells him that Floyd is cute and not some thug (like the real Floyd is). AND JADE 100% BUYS IT. He 100% believes that dresm!Floyd is the "true" one, that his Floyd and Azul would be useless without his support.

Idia makes an important comment at this point in book 7. He explains that Jade is having a hard time waking up because he believes in himself too strongly. That also means that Jade is distrustful of others; he is the only person he counts on. This reflected in how dream!Azul and dream!Floyd present. Both are heavily reliant on Jade to tell them what to do. In real life, too, Jade uses his competency to get into others' good graces (including the notoriously hard to please Vil; see his Dorm Uniform vignettes) so then he can reap the benefits that relationship offers. Jade is just that confident that he can succeed. Indeed, he often is the one coming close to tasting success when all others have failed. If we look back at Ghost Marriage, Jade was about to win over Eliza's heart before Floyd rudely interrupted and pointed out the flowers Jade was gifting were poisonous. Back to Idia's comment; because this is dream's Jade world, he's perhaps too invested in the dream that he has made, thus Jade is choosing to believe the dream that he conjured over the reality staring him in the face. It takes fistfighting with Floyd AND a jolt from Sebek's UM to properly shock some sense into Jade. He is otherwise too stuck in his own head to consider a truth that isn't one he has constructed for himself.

Still, I find it revealing that even though Jade is essentially stuck in his own headspace, dream!Floyd and dream!Azul are the only other people around. Floyd and Azul’s dreams feature way more NPCs, but Jade’s dream is pretty lonely. He could theoretically have several influential people to whisper in the ears of, but instead Jade’s desire is grounded… just being able to explore nature with his twin and Azul. They’re the ones he chooses to spend his time with. No one else. And Jade actively, fiercely defends this simple thing despite usually not being one to resort to violence right off the bat. The only major time in the main story where Jade does this is in book 2, when be noticed that he’s being tailed and does not appreciate the violations of his privacy. That’s exactly what this dream sequence is. It’s another violation of his privacy, and he detests that. You shouldn’t be here interrupting his happy, chill time with his friends business associates. It’s best for you to clear out.

I think it's also worthwhile to note that Floyd and Jade's waking sequences mirror one another. To quote myself from another post:

Something I find interesting is that the twins’ moments of waking mirror each other’s usual approaches to a task. Floyd usually foregoes a plan and prefers to use his fists to get the job done. However, he is slowly roused by reminiscing about his memories at NRC and the promise of being presented with a challenge. The final blow that shocks him awake is the presentation of a dream!Azul and dream!Jade who attempt to lure him deeper into the dream. Floyd doesn’t fall for it; in fact, he gets mad instead, and that fury, so biting and clear, snaps him awake. The opposite is true for Jade. He is someone who meticulously plans before acting, and would rather control the circumstances and use other roundabout methods before resorting to violence. But ironically, the master manipulator Jade is the one who falls for his own dream’s manipulations—all because he trusts himself above all else. He only wakes up because of a very strong physical force (ie Sebek’s UM) striking him. Prior to this, Jade was putting up a very good fight and the blows be was taking were not sufficient to wake fully him. So… Floyd, the brother who prefers brawns, woke up after reflecting and experiencing strong cognitive dissonance between his fake reality and bis true reality. Jade, the brother who prefers brains, woke up after being smacked the right amount. They woke up after experiencing an intense shock related to what is essentially the opposite of their preferred problem solving strategies.

And last but not least, Azul!

We’ve arrived at what I think is the juiciest part to dissect on the subject of the Octatrio’s friendship. To start off with, everyone suspects that Azul’s dream will be one in which he is a highly successful businessman with Mostro Lounge as a chain with even more locations stretching as far as the Coral Sea’s depths. That isn’t the case though! They quickly come to learn that Azul is the leader of Golden Trident, a reigning Coral Rush team. In this dream’s reality Azul was always popular and well-liked. Because he was never bullied, he never started up his shady business in middle school and thus never attracted the interest of the twins. Notably, Jade and Floyd still exist in the dream (as Azul remembers the Leeches from elementary school), but they never got close.

Before we get into the Octatrio’s dynamics, I want to say that the setup of this dream already tells us that a lot of Azul’s desire to become a successful business owner really stems from the longing to be accepted as he is. He uses his businesses and accumulation of contracts to reinforce and inform his self worth. Azul has formed a false belief and identity entering around the concept of success and likability equating to talent and material goods. This explains why he’s so fixated in his public image and being perceived as smart, confident, reliable, and trustworthy, and why he loses it so quickly when he’s denied his collection of golden contracts. Azul is insecure as heck about his shortcomings (athleticism being one of them) and the dream may be latching onto that, as well as his desire to be liked by his peers, to overcompensate.

A little thing I'd like to call attention to is that Jade refuses to divulge the private details of Azul's past in which he was bullied. This is significant because most other instances of the twins bringing up Azul's past usually results in them making fun of him for it and continuing to rag on him to the point where Azul becomes annoyed and tells them to quit it/reminds them that they swore to not talk about it. In those other instances though, the twins never tread that far; they'll at most comment about how different Azul looked or acted back then. They never went so far as to point out how badly he was bullied and here we see Jade respecting Azul's privacy by vocalizing that he refuses to release that information. And this JADE we're talking about, the one who has zero qualms with scoping out prospective new students for their personal info so Azul can later hold it against them (Jade Ceremonial Robes vignettes). Jade even blackmails older students to attain what he wants (Ortho Athletic Gear vignette). It says a lot that, when given the option to openly blab about what Azul experienced and have a laugh about it, Jade clams up.

sdjbaslidbasib OKAY I GOT SIDETRACKED, BACK TO AZUL'S DREAM. So he remembers the Leeches from elementary school, meaning that their existence was not entirely purged from his dream world. It's just a different timeline of events since he wasn't bullied in this reality. Azul is quite friendly to the twins and invites them to join his Coral Rush team at his mother's restaurant for a celebratory dinner. When we arrive at the restaurant, Azul and his team mates start to make fun of the land creatures for very similar things that he actually got bullied for in the waking world. (For example, being clumsy and uncoordinated in their swimming.) He's no longer the bullied, he is a bully. In a twisted way, Azul is getting validation of his own identity by looking down on others; this mirrors his behavior pre-OB in book 3, as he also mistreated his anemone'd peers back then. Tellingly, the only people he doesn't bully are... that's right, Jade and Floyd. Azul instead asks them to play Coral Rush with him. Again, this parallels what we saw in book 3: Azul is asking the twins to essentially "join" him in the midst of him abusing his power and lording over others. He still cares deeply about Jade and Floyd's approval specifically. Nowhere is this demonstrated so clearly as the method by which the twins finally get Azul to start questioning the construct of the dream. They start smashing up the restaurant but then grow bored and make as though they're going to casually leave. That triggers a memory from book 3 in which Azul is angrily shouting about how he'll always be alone. Alone. That's what Azul fears, being that lonely little octopus crying in his pot. That's why he's surrounded by adoring team members and fans in his dream. That's why he breaks down emotionally and OBs after the twins refuse to hand over their UMs to him in book 3. That's why he becomes distraught enough to shake the dream at the suggestion that Jade and Floyd, his two closest friends, are threatening to leave him. In book 4, Azul tries to be cool and play off this fear as the inevitable, that he's fully aware that the Leeches will discard him if he stops being entertaining to them, and that he's prepared for that when it happens. But... is that really the truth, given how Azul reacts in book 7? Everything leading up to this moment seems to imply Azul was just lying to himself, perhaps in an attempt to quell his own anxieties about the possibility. And given how Azul is shown to be calculated in cultivating a put-together public persona, I would not be shocked to learn that. It wouldn't make him seem strong or confident if he displayed weakness or fear over losing his right-hand men. I don't even know that he's purposefully telling a lie. It could very well be something Azul tells himself and believes in, but deep down he cannot truly know how emotional he would get if it ever happened.

As soon as Azul starts to wake, the mermobs of his Coral Rush team are the ones who come in and pull him deeper into the dream. Interesting to have just mobs doing this rather than a dream!Jade or dream!Floyd, given how important they seem to be to Azul. Maybe that's just how the surface level of the dream works? Like, it prioritizes lavishing Azul with general attention rather than the attention of two specific people since, in this dream's reality, Azul never bonded with Jade and Floyd (so those two wouldn't be as convincing?).

When Azul is being dragged into the darkness, Jade and Floyd don't go after him. Instead, they kinda just sit back and claim it's Azul's choice to dream more deeply so who are they to interfere? It takes some convincing from Ortho to convince the twins to pursue Azul into the next layer of the dream--but after the twins depart, Ortho wonders if Jade and Floyd being this cold is actually their way of showing trust. This sort of behavior is why I stress so often that we cannot take what the Octatrio do and say at face value all of the time. They have completely different ways of expressing that they care, and they don't always mean what they insist they mean. (KEEP THIS IN MIND BECAUSE IT COMES BACK INTO PLAY SOON.) In the second layer of Azul's dream, we revisit the events of book 3 had he been successful. He's setting that final class trip picture on fire and relishing in his total conquest of Night Raven College. Azul has ~500 golden contracts, the UMs of the other dorm leaders, and even has Crowley under his thumb--and this time, there's a dream!Jade and dream!Floyd to enjoy that victory with him. The rescue squad has to trick Azul into accidentally sanding his own contracts again, and it's that loss that finally breaks him. Again, we see how much of his own self-worth and value Azul places in that which he collects. It all ties back to that fear of not having anything of worth--not even allies to call his own--if he loses what he believes makes him desirable. At this point, Azul begins to sink into that final layer of his dream (the part where he confronts his OB self). This time, the twins lunge after him, calling out Azul's name and instructing him to grab onto them (+ Jade tells Floyd to help him pull). UM, HELLO????? The "take my hand" imagery, that symbol of trust and connection, from all the way at the start of the game is rearing its head here 😭 AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S EVEN CRAZIER???? The twins just... let go after that??? But not because they don't give a crap about Azul--no, it's because they care and believe that he can fend for himself, that he's no longer a weak person who cries and needs their support to stand on his own. Jade sends him off with a "good luck" and Floyd asks of Azul to not go to hell. Azul casually says the same right back to them before descending. And, just as the twins suspected, Azul is able to win against his inner demons and return to them, safe and sound. They were right about Azul, and Ortho was right about the Leeches. For as cold as Jade and Floyd seem to act, it's actually a front for how much they care.

In the segment where Azul faces his Phantom, he cites that the weight of everything he has taken from others has made it difficult to move. Taken literally, it of course could refer to the tentacles of his merform making it hard for him to swim. Metaphorically though? It can easily mean that he can't achieve personal growth if he's burdened by the weight of his sins (stolen talents, items, etc.). These things he stole may glitter, but they are not gold and he now realizes they aren't things he actually finds valuable. Azul wants to go out there and find things of "real value". I interpret this to mean intangible things that can't really have a price put to them, things that cannot be bought in stores... like friendship, the very thing he has with the twins but failed to call it that this entire time.

Everything in these dreams, and more specifically Azul's dream, demonstrates the Octatrio's mutual respect and trust in one another. Jade and Floyd acknowledge Azul as a strong individual, and Azul's subconscious reveals that he deeply values the twins and seeks their approval even when they've been removed from the picture.

[seongwars]

ardently | i

Pairing: Viscount!Choi San x Countess!Reader AU: non-idol | regency Summary: After falling victim to one of Choi San’s many wagers, you vowed to a life of eternal spinsterhood. However, when the Choi family faces the imminent threat of losing their estate, the very man you swore you would never forgive re-enters your life.  Word Count: 8.0K (my bad) Warnings: you were a bet trope, some violence, misogyny, men being disappointing, angst, swearing

Fic Masterlist

a/n: I'm having a lot of anxiety before my procedure this week but here's the first chapter of my regency au based on the drabble I wrote

“The Choi’s have sent a letter of proposal,” Yeosang announced, stepping into the drawing room. His voice was tinged with hesitation as he approached you with the unopened envelope. The weight of the situation seemed to hang in the air, palpable and heavy.

You didn’t reach for the envelope, your fingers instead flipping the page of your book with deliberate nonchalance. 

“Send them my regards,” you bristled, your tone biting even as you maintained the pretense of calm. 

Yeosang sighed, clearly grappling with how best to navigate this unexpected development. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of his tells when he was deeply troubled. 

“I assure you, the address is indeed correct,” he said, his voice softening as he placed the envelope on the small table in front of you. The Choi family’s wax seal—an intricate emblem of the mountains and skies—stood out against the pristine surface.

“Y/N,” Yeosang’s voice softened, almost pleading. 

“Yeosang,” you replied, finally looking up from your book. The skepticism in your voice was as much a defense mechanism as the sarcasm you’d laced it with. 

“Choi San has an assembly of ladies to select from. I cannot fathom why his father would send a letter to our household.” The mention of San brought a flicker of anger to your eyes, but you quickly masked it with a carefully crafted indifference. 

“The Choi’s risk losing their estate and fortune. This proposal is a strategic endeavor to ensure their survival.”

“How unfortunate,” you replied flatly. “Perhaps the Viscount should not have squandered all of his investments in trade with the East Indies. It seems that the gamble did not pay off as expected.” 

The words were more cutting than you had intended, but you didn’t regret them. The Choi’s predicament, though dire, was of their own making, and the idea that they would try to drag your family into their mess infuriated you. 

“The Viscount is asking for a favor as a friend to father,” Yeosang continued, his tone edged with a note of earnestness, as if trying to appeal to some hidden thread of empathy in you.

“Father’s generosity does not extend to gambling debts nor poor investment decisions,” you retorted, leaning back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “And it certainly does not extend to selling off his daughter like a piece of property.”

Four years before the proposal arrived, when the air was thick with the promise of the season and the drawing rooms of the ton buzzed with anticipation, a different kind of gamble was afoot.

“I bet you couldn’t win the heart of the most unassuming lady in the ton,” Jung Wooyoung declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he took a sip of his drink.

San, reclining with an air of casual confidence, regarded the challenge with a raised brow. “You mean the wallflower?” he asked, his tone dripping with nonchalance. 

Your debut season in society was a whirlwind of excitement and trepidation, a delicate dance between anticipation and the subtle pressure to conform. As the younger sister of Earl Kang Yeosang, you entered the glittering world of the ton with a blend of expectation and apprehension. 

While others were preoccupied with securing advantageous matches or making influential acquaintances, your thoughts frequently wandered to the world of literature. You dreamt of a future where you would hold your first published book in your hands—a future that seemed distant amidst the societal demands of the present.

“Consider it done.”

A wave of laughter and cheers erupted from his circle of friends. They leaned back in their chairs, the anticipation of San’s inevitable victory lighting up their faces. The challenge had been laid out, and San’s self-assured response had ignited a buzz of excitement. It was a game they knew San would relish—a new conquest to add to his list of triumphs.

Choi San, the youngest and only son of Viscount Choi, had an uncanny knack for charming everyone he met. His charisma was well-known, making him the center of attention in any room. To him, the prospect of winning over someone as unassuming as you was just another intriguing challenge. He approached it with the same effortless ease and confidence he would a friendly wager or a new card game, always ready to play and win.

The first attempt San set out to woo you, was at a hunt hosted by his family. The day is crisp, with a low mist hanging over the expansive grounds of the manor, a sprawling estate nestled against the autumnal countryside. The air is filled with the distant sounds of hounds barking, horses snorting, and the low murmur of conversation from the assembled guests.

Amid the cluster of gentlemen in their riding coats and polished boots, you spotted San, seated atop his dappled stallion. His posture was relaxed yet commanding, drawing more than a few admiring glances from the assembled ladies. He wore a dark hunting coat, his hair tousled by the wind, and his broad smile as he spoke with Lord Park carried a low, confident timbre.

San caught your gaze from across the clearing and nudged his horse in your direction. Your heart began to pound against your ribcage, each beat growing louder, more insistent, until it drowned out the distant chatter of the other guests. 

You were suddenly, acutely aware of the many eyes turning to watch this unexpected approach—mamas murmuring behind their fans, young ladies whispering behind gloved hands, and even the gentlemen casting curious glances. You could almost hear their thoughts: Why is he riding toward her? What does he mean by it?

“Ms. Kang,” San greeted as he reigned in his horse beside you, his voice low and smooth, laced with that familiar, infuriating hint of amusement. "What a welcome surprise."

You inclined your head slightly, fighting to keep your voice steady even as your fingers nervously fiddled with the leather handle of your riding crop. “Mr. Choi,” you replied, allowing a thin, polite smile to play on your lips, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I didn’t expect to see you here, away from the rest of your party.”

“And yet, here I am. Fate has a strange way of bringing people together, don’t you think?” San’s voice was smooth, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Or perhaps it’s just your…habit for being everywhere at once,” you insinuated, taking a jab at his reputation.

His gaze lingered on you, a flicker of confusion in his eyes as he took in your demeanor. He had expected you to be as shy and reserved as the rumors suggested, but you defied those expectations entirely. There was a moment of silence, the air between you charged with unspoken words.

“Will you be watching from the sidelines like the rest?” San asked, a teasing edge in his voice that softened into genuine interest. “Or might you be bold enough to take part in the hunt yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. “I might surprise you, Mr. Choi. I’m not one to sit idly by when there’s excitement to be had.”

San’s confusion quickly turned to intrigue. “I look forward to seeing you out there,” he said, his voice carrying a thread of quiet confidence. He gave you a slight, respectful bow of his head before guiding his horse back toward the group.

You caught the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his lips as he rode away, and a wave of frustration mingled with something warmer, something unwelcome, swept through you. You turned your horse away forcing yourself to ignore the whispers and sideways glances, and made your way over to where your brother and the rest of the hunting party had gathered. 

It was unusual for women to join the hunt, an activity traditionally dominated by men, but you had never been one to follow convention. Ever since you were a child, you had accompanied your father on his excursions, slipping away from the stuffy drawing rooms and the tiresome embroidery lessons to ride beside him. Your father had always encouraged your spirit, delighted in the way you held the reins with such determination, the way you matched him stride for stride through fields and forests.

The horns sounded, a clear, commanding call that echoed across the fields. The hounds sprang forward, their lean bodies surging across the estate, their howls filling the air with a primal energy. You urged your own horse to move, feeling the familiar rush of excitement as the wind whipped against your face, the ground blurring beneath you. 

San hadn’t expected to see you mounted on a horse with such a determined look in your eyes. The sight was a stark contrast to the reserved demeanor you usually displayed at social gatherings. As he watched you ride, he saw you weaving through the other hunters with practiced ease, your movements fluid and confident. The way you handled your horse, guiding it with subtle commands, spoke of a skill honed over years.

A thrill shot through him, an electric spark that danced along his skin, igniting a sense of admiration and curiosity. He found himself captivated by this facet of your personality, one that defied the quiet, unassuming image you were rumored to project.

Perhaps the wallflower has a brazen side to her, he mused.

The hounds had picked up a scent, their excited barks echoing through the forest. The riders spurred their horses forward, the thrill of the chase driving them on. You urged your horse to keep pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you navigated the dense underbrush.

Suddenly, a fallen branch blocked your path. You guided your horse to leap over it, the powerful muscles of the animal bunching beneath you as it soared through the air. You landed smoothly on the other side, the impact barely jarring as your horse’s hooves met the ground with practiced precision. 

A triumphant smile spread across your face, the exhilaration of the jump coursing through your veins. As you regained your stride, you noticed San riding alongside you, his eyes alight with admiration.

“Impressive,” he called out, his tone genuinely warm and filled with respect.

You gave him a small nod, acknowledging the compliment with a modest smile. The thrill of the moment spurred you on, and you surged forward with your horse, the wind whipping through your hair as you raced ahead. 

San matched your pace effortlessly, but confusion crossed his face once again. He had expected a verbal response, perhaps a playful retort or a shared laugh. Instead, your silence left him puzzled, wondering if he had misread the situation.

Eventually, the hunt drew to a close. The hounds had cornered their quarry, and the riders began to gather, their faces flushed with excitement. You dismounted, your legs slightly unsteady from the exertion. San was at your side in an instant, offering his arm for support.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, his voice soft and sincere. “Perhaps we could ride together again sometime,” San suggested, his tone hopeful.

You chuckled softly, trying to steady your racing heart. “That would be improper without a chaperone, Mr. Choi,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you pulled your hand away and turned to make your way back to your brother and mother.

San watched you go, a thoughtful smile lingering on his lips, knowing full well that he had caught a glimpse of something rare and untamed—a side of you that he would very much like to see again.

The day after the hunt dawned quietly, the morning light filtering through your window in soft, golden rays. You were beginning to settle into the rhythm of the day when a knock sounded at the door. One of the housemaids appeared in the doorway, looking slightly flustered.

“Miss, a delivery has arrived for you,” she announced, her eyes bright with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

“A delivery?” you repeated, setting down the book you were pretending to read. “For me?”

She nodded eagerly and stepped aside, revealing a young footman holding a large, exquisite bouquet of flowers—pink roses, rhododendrons, and geraniums, artfully arranged with sprigs of greenery and delicate baby’s breath.

You took the flowers gingerly, surprised by their weight and the intoxicating scent that enveloped you. For a moment, you were at a loss, glancing down at the arrangement with a mixture of confusion and wonder. Who could have sent these?

Your eyes caught sight of a small card nestled among the blooms. Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled it free, turning it over to read the neat, elegant script written on it:

“For the lady whose grace and spirit during the hunt were truly a sight to behold. –S.”

You could almost hear his voice in the words—the familiar teasing lilt, that infuriating hint of amusement that seemed to color everything he said. A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, but you quickly suppressed it, unsure of how you truly felt. Flattered? Irritated? Amused? Perhaps a confusing mix of all three.

“What is this?” your mother asked, appearing in the doorway.

“A gift,” you replied, “from Mr. Choi.”

Your mother’s eyes widened slightly, and she stepped forward, her hands clasping together in front of her. “Mr. Choi?” she repeated, her tone colored with intrigue. She paused, a contemplative look crossing her face, and you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “Well, that is… unexpected.”

“Indeed,” you murmured, glancing back at the flowers. 

“Well,” she asked, her tone almost teasing, “will you respond?”

You sighed, feeling a familiar mix of exasperation and affection for the woman who always seemed to know exactly what to say to unsettle you. You flopped back onto your bed, the springs creaking under your weight. 

“I suppose I should thank him,” you admitted, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

Your mother’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, a mischievous smile plastered across her face. “He has made quite a gesture, after all. It would be rude not to acknowledge it.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yes, yes, I know,” you said, sitting up again. Moving to your writing desk, you dipped your quill into the inkwell. As the nib touched the paper, you paused, considering your words carefully. You knew you would have to strike a balance—a note that was gracious, but not too encouraging; polite, but with just enough edge to keep him guessing.

You hesitated, wondering if you should add something more, some playful remark that would remind him that you weren’t so easily won. But then, deciding that less was more, you signed your name with a flourish and sealed the letter with a small, satisfied smile.

San leaned back in his chair, the rich scent of smoke curling around him like a veil. He held his cards in one hand, his other hand bringing the cigar to his mouth for a slow, deliberate puff. The ember at the tip glowed brighter as he inhaled, a flicker of fire against the dark backdrop of the room.

“How goes the wallflower?” Lord Park Seonghwa asked, his voice low and smooth, tinged with a hint of amusement. The question was casual, almost offhand, but the sharp glint in his eyes suggested he was more interested in the answer than he let on.

San studied his cards, his fingers tapping lightly against the worn edges. After a moment of silence, he flicked his gaze up to meet Lord Park’s.

“She’s… intriguing,” San replied at last, his voice carrying a hint of something more than mere curiosity. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching as it swirled and dissipated into the room. “Not as shy as others say she is. I’d say she has more thorns than petals.”

“Thorns can be dangerous, my friend,” Wooyoung mused, his gaze sharp as he considered San’s words. “Especially when they’re hidden beneath such a delicate facade.”

San’s smile didn’t waver, though a shadow passed over his features, too fleeting for most to catch. “Delicate things also have a way of surprising you when you least expect it.”

Wooyoung raised a brow. “Is that so?” 

“Might I remind you gentlemen that you’re playing with fire,” Duke Jeong Yunho interjected, without looking up from his cards. “She is Yeosang’s sister and he doesn’t take kindly to anyone who crosses his family.” 

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Yunho’s words settling over them like a heavy fog. The flickering light of the fire danced in his eyes as he finally looked up, his gaze moving from Wooyoung to San, a warning clear in his expression. 

San’s gaze lingered on his cards, his mind clearly preoccupied with Yunho’s warning. Yunho observed him for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. With a slight nod, he returned to his cards, signaling the end of the conversation, though the tension between them remained palpable.

“A letter from Ms. Kang has arrived for you, sir,” one of the Choi family’s footmen announced as San entered the foyer of the manor, the heavy doors closing behind him with a soft thud. 

San paused mid-step, his attention immediately drawn to the letter. “From Ms. Kang?” he repeated, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. He reached out, plucking the envelope from the tray, his fingertips brushing the smooth paper.

He felt his pulse quicken slightly, an unusual sensation he wasn’t quite accustomed to. He had expected some kind of reply, of course—sending flowers without anticipating an answer would have been rather anticlimactic. But he hadn’t been entirely certain of what you would say, or how you would respond. And that uncertainty intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

“Mr. Choi–I must thank you for your most unexpected gift. Your thoughtfulness is noted. I trust you enjoyed the hunt as much as I did. Until we meet again.”

He chuckled under his breath at that, amused by your careful choice of words.  It was exactly the kind of response he might have expected from you—poised, thoughtful, and ever so slightly elusive.

Rushing to his study, San settled at his desk and reached for his quill. Dipping it into the ink, he began to write his reply, a slow, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Ms. Kang–Your response, like your presence, is most intriguing. I did indeed enjoy the hunt, though I find myself far more captivated by the prospect of our next encounter. Might I propose a ride—properly chaperoned, of course—along the riverbank this coming Sunday? I look forward to your answer. Yours, S.”

“Deliver this to Ms. Kang immediately,” he instructed when the footman reappeared, his tone leaving no room for delay.

“Riding with San is bound to stir talk, Y/N,” Yeosang sighed, riding beside you. His tone carried the weight of his concerns. Your older brother, the current Earl, had always been protective, but this time, there was a sharper edge to his words, hinting at more than just worry.

Your gaze drifted to the path ahead, where the river glinted under the late morning sun. “Let them talk,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, though there was an undercurrent of resolve. 

“I have nothing to hide. I’m simply replying to a request from an acquaintance. Your friend, might I add.”

Yeosang snorted, a sound that was equal parts disbelief and frustration. “Choi San of all people?” he scoffed, his voice tinged with incredulity. He casted a sideways glance at you, as if searching for some sign that you were not serious. 

“Since when did sending flowers qualify him as an acquaintance?”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks at his words, the warmth creeping up your neck despite your best efforts to remain composed. 

“Believe what you like,” you replied, patting Darcy’s neck affectionately, as he trotted alongside your brother’s horse with the same steady pace, oblivious to the tension between the two of you.

Yeosang’s expression softened for a moment as he watched you, his eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to read your thoughts. “He is not just any man. His reputation precedes him, and not always in a way that benefits a lady’s name.”

“You are the company you keep, brother,” you jested, your voice steady but your heart pounding. “And I choose my friends wisely.”

“Books do not count as friends, Y/N,” he retorted, his tone laced with a hint of teasing, but also with an underlying note of exasperation. It was a typical response from him, one that spoke of countless evenings spent in your family’s library, where you had found solace in the pages of novels rather than in the company of people.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, though it was more out of habit than amusement. Without another word, you gently nudged Darcy forward, urging him into a slightly faster trot. Ahead, San came into view, standing by the river’s edge, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the water. 

“Ms. Kang,” he greeted, his voice smooth and rich, “a pleasure, as always.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement, a polite smile on your lips, though your heart fluttered in a way that betrayed the calm facade you tried so hard to maintain. 

“Mr. Choi,” you replied, your tone light but with a hint of familiarity that didn’t go unnoticed by Yeosang.

Yeosang, who had ridden up beside you, remained on his horse, his posture rigid and his expression carefully neutral. His eyes, however, flickered with protectiveness and suspicion as they settled on San.

“Choi,” Yeosang acknowledged curtly, his tone cool and formal. He inclined his head slightly, though there was no warmth in the gesture.

“Kang,” San replied, his eyes briefly meeting Yeosang’s before returning to you. There was a subtle challenge in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that hung in the air. Perceptive bastard, Yeosang thought as he rolled his eyes. 

“Shall we, Ms. Kang?” he asked, his tone playful yet respectful. There was a spark of mischief in his eyes, as if he relished the challenge of winning you over, even under Yeosang’s watchful eye.

You hesitated for the briefest of moments, aware of Yeosang’s disapproving glare. But then you took San’s arm, your decision made. 

“We shall,” you replied, your voice steady. You glanced back at your brother, offering him a reassuring smile that you hoped would ease his concern, though you knew it likely wouldn’t.

Yeosang sighed quietly, resigning himself to his role as the chaperone. With a reluctant nod, he dismounted from his horse, clearly prepared to follow along at a distance—close enough to intervene if necessary, but far enough to grant you some semblance of privacy.

San’s arm was warm beneath your hand as you walked, the two of you moving in comfortable rhythm. The river’s gentle murmur provided a soothing backdrop to the conversation that began as lightly as the breeze.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” San remarked, his tone easy, as if the weight of your brother’s gaze wasn’t pressing down on both of you. 

“It is,” you agreed, your eyes drifting to the sparkling water. “I find that being near the river always brings a sense of peace. It’s as if time slows down here.”

San smiled, a genuine expression that softened his sharp features. “I’ve noticed that about you,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “You seem to seek out places like this—quiet, serene, away from the noise of society.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck at the subtle compliment, though you kept your tone light. “And you, Mr. Choi? Do you enjoy such places, or do you find the quiet unnerving?”

“There’s a time and place for everything. Sometimes, I enjoy the thrill of the city—the excitement, the unpredictability. But there are moments when I crave a bit of peace. Moments like this, for example.”

“I suppose everyone needs a respite from the chaos now and then,” you replied, your tone thoughtful. “Even those who thrive in it.”

He glanced at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to discern something deeper. “You speak as though you’ve seen more chaos than most, Ms. Kang.”

There were things about your life, about the pressures of your status and the expectations placed upon you, that you rarely discussed openly. But something about San made you want to share more, to let him see beyond the surface.

“I suppose I have,” you admitted quietly, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that you usually kept hidden. “Being the only daughter comes with certain… burdens. Expectations that aren’t always easy to meet. Society has its own set of rules for us, and they can be suffocating. You have an older sister, do you not? I’m sure she would understand.”

San’s expression softened as he listened to your quiet admission, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that surprised you. There was no judgment in his gaze, only a quiet empathy that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. “It’s not always easy to be the one others look to for strength, especially when the world expects so much from you.”

His words resonated with you, a sincerity that made your heart ache with recognition. It was rare for someone to articulate so clearly the challenges you faced, to acknowledge the invisible burdens that so often went unnoticed.

“I did not realize rakes had the capacity to feel empathy,” you teased, though your heart was still heavy with the weight of your own burdens.

San chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “We are full of surprises, Ms. Kang. Just because society labels us one way doesn’t mean we lack depth or understanding.”

You nodded, appreciating his perspective. As you looked at him, curiosity piqued by the openness with which he spoke, you realized that despite his reputation, San seemed to carry his own set of challenges—ones that perhaps mirrored your own in unexpected ways. This realization emboldened you to ask the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind.

“What sort of life would you live if you weren’t your father’s heir?” you asked suddenly, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them. There was a note of genuine curiosity in your voice, an eagerness to understand the man walking beside you.

San seemed taken aback by the question, his eyes widening slightly as he considered it. For a moment, he was silent, his expression thoughtful as he weighed his response.

“Perhaps an adventurer. I imagine a life of exploration, free from the expectations that have always defined me. I’ve always been drawn to the unknown, to the thrill of discovering new places and new ideas.”

His answer surprised you, revealing a depth to San that you hadn’t fully realized before. Beneath the charming exterior was a dreamer, a man who longed for something more than the life that had been set out for him. Yet, there was comfort in knowing you weren’t alone in this struggle, that someone else understood the desire to break free, even if only in dreams.

San’s gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “And you? If you could be anything, anyone, without the constraints of your life as it is… what would you choose?”

The question caught you off guard, a mirror suddenly held up to your own thoughts. What would you choose? What sort of life would you live if the chains of duty and expectation were broken? The weight of the question settled over you, and for a moment, you felt the world pause.

A slow smile crept onto your face as you pondered the question, savoring the idea of a life unburdened by obligations. “A writer,” you said softly, the words tasting like freedom on your tongue. “There’s a magic in stories, in the way they can transport you to another time, another place.”

San’s eyes lit up at your words, his expression warm and appreciative. “A writer,” he mused, as if savoring the idea himself. His gaze softened, and you could see a flicker of his own dreams reflected in his eyes.

You laughed lightly, a touch of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “I suppose we both long for a life of freedom, of discovery. Though perhaps in different ways.”

There was a moment of quiet between you, a shared understanding lingering in the air. The path ahead felt less certain, but somehow, knowing that San, too, yearned for something more, made it seem a little less daunting. 

As the days turned into weeks, San found himself increasingly torn between the thrill of the dare and the reality of his growing affection for you. He hadn’t expected you to be so different from what he imagined. 

The image he had of you, shaped by the whispers of society and the assumptions of others, had quickly shattered as he spent more time in your company. Instead of the cold, distant lady he had envisioned, he found someone warm and passionate, someone whose sharp wit and quiet strength captivated him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“What sort of life would you live if you weren’t your father’s heir?” 

The question had taken him by surprise, striking at a place deep within him that he rarely allowed others to see. For a brief moment, he was forced to confront the truth of his own desires—the life he might have led if he weren’t bound by the expectations of his family and society. 

San knew he was walking a dangerous line. The more he allowed himself to feel, the harder it became to maintain the facade. He feared what would happen when the truth inevitably came to light—when you discovered that his attentions had been born out of a cruel jest rather than genuine affection. Would you ever forgive him? Could you?

And then the night of your mama’s ball arrived.

Every detail of the ballroom spoke of opulence and sophistication, from the gilded mirrors that lined the walls to the crystal glasses that clinked softly in toasts. It was a place where appearances were everything, and every glance, every gesture, was laden with meaning.

San, ever the charming gentleman, was acutely aware of the eyes that followed his every move. His colleagues and other potential admirers watched with barely concealed interest, some with jealousy, others with curiosity. They knew he was playing a game, but none knew the rules, least of all you.

“I would be remiss if I didn’t ask you for a dance, Ms. Kang,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. 

You placed your hand in his, feeling the warm, secure clasp of his fingers around yours. There was an electric charge in the touch, a connection that neither of you fully understood but couldn’t deny. As he led you to the center of the floor, the bustling activity of the ballroom seemed to fade into a distant hum. In that moment, it was as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you, the music and the people fading into the background.

San guided you effortlessly through the first few steps, his movements smooth and assured. His hand rested lightly on your waist, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he was both leading and following you in this intricate dance. 

“Your mama knows how to throw quite the ball,” he remarked, amused by the opulence of the atmosphere. His voice was low, just for you.

“It is one of her many talents,” you quipped, the corners of your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. 

“Is hosting in your future as well, Ms. Kang?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying seriousness to the question. He was probing, searching for more than just a surface answer, wanting to understand the real you—the woman who had caught him off guard and who now occupied far too many of his thoughts.

You tilted your head slightly, considering his question as you continued to glide across the floor. “Perhaps,” you replied thoughtfully, your voice softening. 

“But I think I’d prefer to be the guest who brings something interesting to the soiree, rather than the one who simply throws it.”

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words. You weren’t just another society lady content to play her part; you wanted more, and that desire resonated with something deep within him. 

San felt his resolve wavering, the lines of the game he had started becoming increasingly blurred. The stakes were higher now, the risks greater, because this wasn’t just a dare anymore. It was something real, something he hadn’t planned for, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the consequences of what might happen when the truth finally came to light.

The evening had been a whirlwind of forced smiles and polite exchanges, each interaction more draining than the last. The laughter and chatter of the crowded ballroom felt like a cacophony, grating on your nerves. You had sought a moment of solitude, desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere and the superficial conversations that had begun to wear on you.

Slipping out through a side door, you found yourself in the garden, a sanctuary offering a brief respite from the prying eyes of high society. You wandered along the gravel paths, the scent of night blooms filling the air. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a world where you weren’t bound by the rigid rules of propriety, where you could be free to live and love as you wished.

But your moment of peace was shattered when you heard voices nearby, muffled by the hedges but unmistakably familiar. You paused, instinctively stepping back into the shadows, your curiosity piqued by the sound of hushed giggles and the mention of your name.

“...I was with him last night!” she squealed, unable to contain her glee. “He told me that it was a wager to see if he could win over Kang Y/N!”

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Your name sounded like a curse in the woman’s mouth, dripping with disdain.

"I’m glad he’s not serious about the wallflower," another woman scoffed. "She’s so odd, always off in her own world. It’s no wonder she hasn’t received any proposals.”

Their laughter echoed in the night, sharp and cruel, each word slicing through you like a knife. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your stomach churning with a sickening dread. They were talking about you, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t believe she fell for it,” another voice chimed in, this one male, and unmistakably familiar. It was one of San’s friends–Park Seonghwa was it–his tone mocking.

And then you heard it—San’s voice, clear and confident, the same voice that had spoken to you with such warmth and sincerity only moments ago. “Pay up, gentlemen,” he said, the words laced with smug satisfaction. “I told you I could do it. It was only a matter of time.”

Your heart sank as you listened, your world crumbling around you. The man who had danced with you, sent you flowers, who had seemed to share a connection so real, had been playing a game all along.

A wager.

A cold numbness spread through your body as you struggled to process the betrayal. How could you have been so foolish? How could you have let yourself believe that someone like him could genuinely care for someone like you? The laughter from the other side of the hedge seemed to mock your naivety, and the pain in your chest grew with each passing second.

San’s chuckle cut through the night air, a sound that had once brought you comfort but now felt like the sharp edge of a blade. 

“It was almost too easy to get her to talk about her ambitions. She was so desperate for someone to care.”

You could feel the tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here, not now. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they had hurt you. But as you stood there, the anger began to build, simmering beneath the surface until it was impossible to contain. You couldn’t just stand there and let them think they had gotten away with this. 

You couldn’t let San believe that his betrayal would go unnoticed, that his actions would have no consequences.

With a surge of resolve, you stepped out from the shadows, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as you made your presence known. As you emerged into the dim light of the garden, the group fell silent, their laughter dying on their lips as they realized they were no longer alone.

“Is this true?” you demanded, your voice quivering and strained, each word punctuated with the raw pain and disbelief that surged through you. 

You locked eyes with San, the man who had been at the center of it all, the one who had so effortlessly made you believe in the possibility of something more. But there was no explanation that could undo what he had done. No words that could erase the pain he had caused.

“Y/N. I–” he stammered, his voice faltering as he grappled with the gravity of the situation. “Let me explain–”

Your voice rose, each word laced with fury and heartbreak. “Explain?” you echoed, your voice rising in a mixture of fury and pain. “Explain how you toyed with my feelings for a wager? How you led me to lay bare my vulnerabilities only to use them as fodder for your amusement?”

San flinched at the venom in your words, his face paling as the full impact of what he had done became impossible to ignore. The others watched in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in as they witnessed the fallout of their actions. But you barely noticed them. Your focus was entirely on San, the man who had taken your trust and shattered it without a second thought.

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “Don’t try to justify this. Don’t try to tell me it wasn’t what it seemed. Because I heard you. I heard everything.”

For a moment, you stood there, breathing heavily, your chest heaving with the force of your emotions. The garden, once a place of refuge, now felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of betrayal. 

“You’ve shown me exactly who you are.” 

With one final, burning look at San, you turned on your heel and walked away, your steps steady and purposeful. You would not run, you would not flee into the night like some wounded animal. You would survive this. You would rise above it. And you would show them all that you were not a wallflower to be trifled with.

“Where the fuck is he!?”

Yeosang stormed into the club, his heart pounding with a fury that made his vision blur at the edges. The usual buzz of laughter that filled the place faded as he stepped inside, the sheer force of his presence commanding attention. 

The moment San looked up and saw Yeosang bearing down on him, the casual amusement on his face evaporated, replaced by a fleeting but unmistakable look of surprise. Before San could fully register what was happening, Yeosang’s fist was already flying through the air. The punch connected with a sickening crack, sending San reeling back into his seat. 

“Of all the people in this world, you decided to make a wager on my sister?”

San’s eyes darted between Yeosang and the crowd, his shock turning to regret as he slowly began to comprehend the magnitude of his actions.

“I never meant for it to go this far.”

The regret in his expression was immediate, but it did nothing to quell the fire in Yeosang’s eyes. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that was somehow more terrifying than his entrance.

“Did you think you could just make a fool out of her and walk away unscathed? That you could treat her like some...some plaything, and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

San swallowed hard, the reality of his actions finally crashing down on him. He had played the game too far, crossed a line he could never uncross. “I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice barely audible, the words tasting hollow and useless even as he spoke them.

“Sorry?” Yeosang repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “Do you really think a simple apology can undo the damage you’ve caused to her reputation?”

San bowed his head slightly, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. But Yeosang wasn’t finished. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that was heard by everyone in the stunned crowd.

“Let me remind you of something,” Yeosang continued, his tone darkening with every syllable. “Contrary to what the rest of your bastards think, my sister is not some wallflower you can toy with and discard. If I’d let her have her way, she’d have set the hounds on you and hunted you through the woods herself.”

Yeosang’s gaze remained fixed on San, his eyes blazing with an intensity that brooked no argument. 

“You’re lucky,” he hissed, “lucky that I’m the one standing here tonight and not her. Because if she were here, you’d be running for your life right now, and there wouldn’t be a soul in this room who could save you.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving San alone in the center of the room, the eyes of everyone upon him, the full weight of his actions bearing down on him like an unforgiving storm.

“I’ll have to eventually send a reply, Y/N,” Yeosang sighed, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation. He stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the fading light of the twilight. The darkening sky seemed to mirror the turmoil in his mind as he stared out, seeking answers in the distant horizon that offered none.

You leaned back on the sofa, the letter from the Choi family lying unopened on the coffee table like a looming storm cloud. You glanced at it with a hint of disdain before letting out a dry chuckle. 

“Why don’t you marry San?” you suggested, your tone edged with sarcasm. “You both seemed to have made up after you nearly dislocated his jaw.”

“Ah, yes, because nothing says true love like a fistfight at the local club,” Yeosang quipped, shooting you a bemused look.

You shrugged, a sardonic grin playing on your lips. “I’ve already been a pawn to their son before, and I won’t let myself be used again,” Your eyes hardened as you cut him off, the pain of past betrayals flashing in them, mingling with a fierce determination. 

“The last thing I want is to be part of another arrangement that diminishes my worth.”

Yeosang nodded, his expression resigned yet still hopeful. “I only ask that you consider… just consider it, for father’s sake.”

The grand halls of the Choi estate were alive with activity, but not in the usual festive manner. In the midst of this flurry, the family’s domestic staff worked with a practiced efficiency. Their hands deftly placed the covers over the delicate upholstery of the sofas and the intricate designs of the armchairs. The rich tapestries and decorative vases were carefully wrapped, their vibrant colors and intricate patterns momentarily hidden beneath plain, protective fabric.

Viscount Choi Han Sung's usually composed demeanor was marred by the strain of their financial predicament. His brows were furrowed, and his hands rested on the edge of the polished desk, gripping it as if for support. Across from him, San’s normally confident air seemed overshadowed by the weight of their current situation.

Maps and financial reports were scattered across the desk, the papers bearing the marks of multiple revisions and frantic calculations. The flicker of the fireplace cast long shadows on the walls, adding to the somber mood.

“We’ve exhausted most of our resources in trade and investments,” the Viscount said, his voice weary and resigned. “A proposal might be our last viable solution.”

San’s shoulders tensed as he listened, his gaze shifting between the documents and his father’s troubled expression. “Father, I know you’re trying to protect our legacy, but I’m not sure if this is the right approach. A marriage proposal, especially one of convenience, might not be received well. It could damage our reputation further if not handled delicately.”

The Viscount sighed deeply, running a hand through his thinning hair, a gesture that seemed to age him even more in the dim light. 

“Our estate and name have always been at the heart of high society, son. We can’t afford to lose that standing. This proposal might be the only way to secure the support we need.”

San felt a pang of unease as his father’s words settled into his mind, and then the blow came—the suggestion that made his blood run cold.

“The Kang’s have a daughter who is a suitable marriage prospect.”

San’s heart sank as those words settled in his mind, a cold dread spreading through him. He could still see your face in his mind, the way your eyes had looked when you’d trusted him, the sincerity in your voice when you had spoken of your hopes and dreams. The memory of his laughter with his friends, the mockery hidden beneath what he had pretended was affection, now felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“Father,” San began, his voice cracking slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. “It would be improper to involve her in this matter,” his words tumbled out in a rush, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"In what way? She is but a spinster, and you are unwed. It is a match," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing a business transaction rather than the fate of two lives.

The thought of trapping you in a marriage born out of necessity, not love, filled him with a profound sense of dread. But what choice did he have? The precariousness of their position, the thin line they walked, left him with no easy answers. To go against his father meant risking everything—his inheritance, his duty, his very place in the world.

“She deserves more than to be used as a pawn in our affairs,” San argued softly, desperation creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to keep it level. “She has done nothing to warrant being caught in our family’s troubles. To pull her into this… it would be cruel.”

“Cruelty is a luxury we can no longer afford,” his father sighed, the words heavy with defeat. "We do what we must to survive, to protect what is ours.”

“There has to be another way,” San whispered, almost to himself. The thought of condemning her to a life of misery gnawed at him, a relentless ache in his chest. “I can’t do this to her, Father. I won’t.”

The Viscount’s expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. His eyes, once filled with the wisdom of years, now bore into his son with a steely resolve. “And what would you do instead? Defy me? Throw away your inheritance, your duty, for a woman you barely know? You think that would save her?”

For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and tense. The air crackled with unspoken words, the weight of their shared history pressing down on them. Then, Viscount Choi spoke again, his voice low and edged with finality. 

“You will think on this, my boy. And you will choose wisely. Because if you do not… we will lose everything.”

San’s heart pounded in his chest, the enormity of the decision before him threatening to crush him. The choice was his, but the consequences would ripple far beyond his own life, affecting everyone he held dear. In that moment, he felt the full weight of his duty, the crushing burden of a legacy he could not escape.

ii >>

[master-of-47-dudes]

Oh! For those of you who like Lancer, I've made major progress in the campaign I'm writing: Kindness of strangers!

LRBT-III, otherwise known as Blanche to the locals. This sun-baked dustbowl of a planet has the high honor of being one of the few habitable terrestrial bodies that anyone has discovered in the Long Rim, and probably the only one that's actually any use to anyone. Luckily- or not so luckily, if you ask some people- it was Union that found it first. Well, about 70 years ago when they stumbled across this star system they got it in their heads that the Long Rim's days were numbered. There’s untold millions living out there scattered along the emptiest shipping lane in the known galaxy who'd need a way out once no one needed to pass them by, and by Christ the Buddha Union was gonna be there for them waiting with open arms.

All of that is background, though. You? You’re a bunch of mercenaries who got their hands on a couple of GMSes, decided to make your manna selling violence for pay. Worlds like Blanche don't take to colonies very well, so even two generations in there's still plenty of frontier out there being settled and railroad tracks being laid. The people out there struggle day by day to survive, and people like you are there to protect them from those who got sick of the hard life. Not everyone out there has the guts to stand up for the little guy- that's why you're called Lancers.

A setting and a campaign all in one, Kindness Of Strangers and its (eventual) follow-up Dancing With the Devil are a series of Wild West-themed 2-mission adventures intended to take players from 0-12 as they find themselves embroiled in the midst of a corporate conspiracy to overthrow the Union-backed government of the isolated colony of Blanche and a ploy to seize control over a nearly completed Blinkstation. All the while, a strange religious movement worshipping an eons-dead alien civilization grows ever more influential in the background...

This campaign tackles themes of colonialism, nationalism, corruption, and conflict between indigenous peoples, settlers, and immigrants, all in a world where well-meaning intentions have gone sour and the ghosts of the past have come back to haunt it.

Kindness of Strangers, Missions 1-3

Field Guide to LRBT-PN

Exotic Gear Documentation

Variant Frame Documentation

Kindness of Strangers Worldbuilding Short Stories

Kindness of Strangers LCP, Maps, and Assets

This latest update includes the first(ish) draft of Mission 3: The Field of Blue Children, allowing play of the first half of Act 2 and extending the LL range from 0-3. Mission 3 is heavily intrigue and RP focused, featuring a wide suite of characters, relationships, and locations in the Tourist town of Baugh- a thriving immigrant community situated on a soda lake.

The PCs have been hired to investigate a bomb threat at the newly completed Baugh Pumpworks, and water filtration and chemical processing facility that stands to end the water shortage and threatens corporate control over the colony's water supply- but is everything really as it seems? In the process, the PCs will go toe to toe with teenage gearheads, Pinkerton-expies, and a group of Sparri Espadas who got roped into this whole mess, and uncover the mystery behind the threat!

Also, there's a subaltern that talks like a pirate and catholicism.

Anyway this mission also includes a custom NPC Template (kind of, I don't know how to design the LCP for that but i did include instructions on how it works), several new reserves, and several custom sitreps!

So, check it out- I'm always looking for feedback.

[drunkenskunk]

Something funny I've noticed while playing in the Lancer game @xeansicemane is running is that I am the odd-man (woman?) out in our merry little band of misfits. I am the only one in the SRT without an interesting backstory and/or potentially mission threatening Dark Secret.

We have:

- Fern Tiramisu, the fancy rat who has a job on Hell's Gate in a record store that sells more drugs than records. Except this is merely their cover story, as they are really an operative working for the Union Intelligence Bureau, sent to Calliope on a Top Secret Spy Mission. They've also discovered that parts of their memory have been wiped - by them - and are now trying to recover those memories and figure out why they'd do that to themselves in the first place.

- Cassilda Halloway, the very large, very Stronk, practically indestructible crocodile lady who is a champion in Calliope's fighting scene. Her first, last, and favorite solution for any and all problems is "Imma punch it REAL hard." She's hiding out in the system specifically to get away from her family, a bunch of wealthy and influential fucks back in the Karrakin Trade Baronies. Complicating things is that her brother is also here, for reasons unrelated, and has fallen in with the Faith of the One Plumed in Golden Flame, the local Apocalypse Cult.

- Pearce Collartug, a hyena hacker enby who is practically a JoJo character. They pilot a giant snake-shaped Balor, spending most of every fight covering everything that gets close (and lots more besides) in corrosive nanite swarms. In the last session, we all found out that they also used to be a member of The Circuit, a renegade HORUS cell pirate ring run by Triple Point, a Legion Fork NHP (Fern: "It's a fucking WHAT?!") The Illegal Shape has currently escaped its box and is now doing lots of spooky horror movie shenanigans inside a big asteroid.

- Agarin Raankell, a genetically modified supersoldier dragon man hailing from Clan Thunder Skink, and if you think that sounds a little like the Clans from Battletech: you are absolutely correct. Apparently where he came from, someone generations ago found a Battletech source book about the Clans and went "Hey, y'know what would be awesome?" Probably the most stable and level-headed member of the entire SRT, which is hilarious if you know anything about the Clans, but it does make him the de-facto squad leader in most situations involving direct combat. Also, he's psychically bonded with all of us. Because of Reasons.

And then you have my character.

- Scarlet. She's an alcoholic fuck-up.

Personally, I'm fine with it. My design doc for her boiled down to "What if me, but Girl, and also mech pilot?" She's a grunt. A humble footsoldier. Currently License Level 2, and still piloting her Everest. If this were Battletech, she'd probably drive a Hunchback. She's here to fight and get drunk, because she's no good at anything else.

I just think its hysterical that I'm the only one here not doing A Bit.

... come to think of it, I'm also the only one who hasn't been gene modded to be a Funny Animal Person lol

[vintagegeekculture]

What do you feel is the most influential science fiction novel in the 1900's?

In terms of real world effects, the most important scifi novel of the turn of the century was one that is almost never read today: Edward Bellamy's "Looking Backward." Its impact in its own time was colossal. A novel about a modern day American who wakes up in the year 2000, he discovers it is a socialist utopia. Only Ben-Hur and Uncle Tom's Cabin were bigger bestsellers in the US. The book was the center of an entire political movement, centered on clubs and reading societies of the book.

It's not well read today, despite being one of the three best selling books of the 19th Century, for several reasons. The first is that there was a conscious attempt to scrub the history of American socialism after the Red Scare (the Haymarket Riots are a holiday in every country except the one where it happened), certainly, but more importantly, the book is incredibly boring and didactic, with conversations about the economy and factory production. Imagine if Fry from Futurama mostly asked questions about factory production and you get the idea. Reading it, you start to understand why scifi writers sugar things up with fistfights and chases.

Nonetheless, the book was so widely read that it was the basis for hundreds of socialist clubs all over America and the US actively involved in politics, and also in the UK and China (where it was translated during the early 20th Century of US/China friendship). It's view of futuristic urban planning centered on green spaces for recreation led to the Garden City Movement in the UK, which changed UK urban planning. It's very likely that if you're British, you live in a Garden City, or close to one.

A lot of writers predict something, but Bellamy's "Looking Backward" was so influential that people actually brought what it predicted into existence. For instance, it had public cafeterias, which were a reality in the USSR, and a key characteristic of political and social life there.

[moodboardmix]

Miss Françoise (17 janvier 1944 - 11 juin 2024)

Miss Françoise Hardy, whose elegance and beautifully lilting voice made her one of France’s most successful pop stars, has passed away today.

She was born in the middle of an air raid in Nazi-occupied Paris in 1944, and raised in the city, mostly by her mother. Aged 16, she received her first guitar as a present and began writing her own songs, performing them live and auditioning for record labels. In 1961, she signed with Disques Vogue.

Inspired by the French chanson style of crooned ballads as well as the emerging edgier styles of pop and rock’n’roll, Miss Hardy became a key part of the yé-yé style that dominated mid-century French music.

The self-penned ballad Tous les garçons et les filles was her breakthrough in 1962, and sold more than 2.5m copies; it topped the French charts, as did early singles Je Suis D’Accord and Le Temps de L’Amour.

Her growing European fame meant she began rerecording her repertoire in multiple languages, including English. Her 1964 song All Over the World, translated from Dans le Monde Entier, became UK Top 20 hit, her fame endured in France, Italy and Germany.

In 1968, Comment te Dire Adieu, a version of It Hurts to Say Goodbye (originally made famous by Vera Lynn) with lyrics by Serge Gainsbourg, became one of her biggest hits.

Miss Hardy’s beauty and deft aesthetic – which encompassed cleanly silhouetted tailoring alongside more casual looks, including knitwear and rock-leaning denim and leather – defined the seeming effortlessness of 20th-century French cool.

She became a muse to designers including Yves Saint Laurent and Paco Rabanne, and was also a frequent subject for fashion photography, shot by the likes of Richard Avedon, David Bailey and William Klein. Later, designer Rei Kawakubo would name her label Comme des Garçons after a line in a Hardy song.

Miss Hardy was an object of adoration to many male stars of 60s pop including the Rolling Stones and David Bowie. Bob Dylan wrote a poem about her for the liner notes of his 1964 album Another Side of Bob Dylan, beginning: “For Françoise Hardy, at the Seine’s edge, a giant shadow of Notre Dame seeks t’ grab my foot …”

She was also courted by directors, appearing in films by Jean-Luc Godard, Roger Vadim, John Frankenheimer and more.

Miss Hardy signed a three-year deal with Sonopresse in 1970. This creatively rich period saw her record with Brazilian musician Tuca on 1971’s highly acclaimed La Question, and continue her multi-lingual releases.

She spent the mid-1970s chiefly focused on raising her son Thomas with her partner, musician and actor Jacques Dutronc. Releases restarted with 1977’s Star, and Hardy embraced the sounds of funk, disco and electronic pop. A longer hiatus in the 1980s was punctuated by 1988’s Décalages, billed as her final album, though she returned in 1996 with Le Danger, switching her palette to moody contemporary rock.

She released six further albums, ending with Personne D’Autre in 2018.

Miss Hardy also developed a career as an astrologer, having written extensively on the subject from the 1970s onwards. In addition, she worked as a writer of both fiction and non-fiction books from the 2000s. Her autobiography Le désespoir des singes... et autres bagatelles was a best-seller in France.

She remains one of the best-selling singers in French history, and continues to be regarded as an iconic and influential figure in both French pop and fashion. In 2006, she was awarded the Grande médaille de la chanson française, an honorary award given by the Académie française, in recognition of her career in music.

Miss Hardy had lymphatic cancer since 2004, and had undergone years of radiotherapy and other treatments for the illness. In 2021, she had argued in favour of euthanasia, saying that France was “inhuman” for not allowing the procedure.

Rest in Power !

[st-just]

sell me on Pale Lights

Hmm. Difficult without knowing where you're starting from as far as web serials/the author goes, I think? But to take a stab at it:

Elevator Pitch: In a vaguely early-modern fantasy world build around antediluvian ruins and small isles of light in a world-sized cavern, the Watch are an ancient militant order dedicated to hunting ancient and rampant gods. To be one of their officers is to be one of the most clued in and influential groups in the world - and there is a yearly trial for anyone really desperate enough to earn a spot. Our heroes - a street rat contracted with an unknown and unhelpful goddess of luck, and a noble swordswoman seeking refuge after the massacre of her family - begin the story rushing to take their berth on the ship headed toward the Dominion of Lost Things, and their own last chances.

What's Good:

Characters/Relationships: EE (the author) is a goddamn genius at writing engaging and entertaining banter between characters, and making different people in a conversation sound different. Both (and in book 2, all) of the POVs have engaging personal arcs and interestingly distinct internal monologues and neuroses. (Also, none of them are the unimpeachable moral exemplar and they're all allowed to be assholes and idiots when it seems appropriate).

Setting: Is it to some extent 'fantasy setting plopped into the Underdark without thinking through the implications of what that would mean?' Sure, a bit - but take that as read and the world really does feel rich and interesting, with an actual sense of both history and politics. The world only gets wilder and weirder the most you learn of it too, which I always appreciate. .

Action: Do you like layers of weird magical bullshit clashing against each other? Then oh boy is this the setting for you. Honor duels and spiritual possession and an improbably number of Indiana Jones traps and exactly as many hungry and unhelpful gods as you would expect from the pitch up there. Just as importantly for me (who has sharply limited patience for them) none of the big action setpieces have really dragged or overstayed their welcome yet.

What's Not

It's a web serial. A very good one! but it has all the flaws of being written week to week with no revisions you expect, and the pacing is godawfully meandering.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Leninism: Why Not

Red Fascism has its roots in Leninist thought, an analysis dating back to critiques in 1939 with The Struggle Against Fascism Begins with the Struggle Against Bolshevism by Otto Rühle[28] and 1921 The Russian Revolution and the Communist Party by “Four Moscow Anarchists”.[29] The latter states:

[State Communism] is not and can never become the threshold of a free, voluntary, non-authoritarian Communist society, because the very essence and nature of governmental, compulsory Communism excludes such an evolution. Its consistent economic and political centralization, its governmentalization and bureaucratization of every sphere of human activity and effort, its inevitable militarization and degradation of the human spirit mechanically destroy every germ of new life and extinguish the stimuli of creative, constructive work.

As Gabriel Kuhn declares in his review of Malm’s recent publications:

As long as it is not clear how future Leninism of any stripe – anti-Stalinist, ecological, whatever – will be able to avoid these pitfalls, I really don’t find it terribly reassuring to suggest that, well, somehow it’ll turn out alright this time.

In a similar fashion, Malm does not add new elements to the discussions on escalation of tactics in the environmental movement, contrary to his book’s promise. It might be this hollow radicality that entertains bourgeois circles and will grant him a broad audience separate from the core of radical change.

Furthermore, his ability to brag about his own past flirtations with direct action, from the comfort of middle-class existence in a social democracy, shows that he really has no understanding of ecological struggle. People who actually risk themselves struggling for their land, their survival, our planet, face death or decades in prison. They do not get to put their actions on their resumé to sell books after just a few years. To put it plainly, Malm does not know the meaning of struggle. His expertise is in writing academic papers, securing a comfortable, privileged existence for himself, and climbing the class ladder.

Malm tries to ridicule James C. Scott for his not very popular nor influential book Two Cheers for Anarchism (2012), where he makes silly comments on traffic lights. If you’re familiar with Scott’s work, it becomes apparent that Malm’s attack might be caused by Scotts critique of Lenin in Seeing like a State (1998), exposing Lenin as controlling and elitist. Scott’s work will be mentioned further in the next sections.

[elkement]

"Eye of the Harmonograph" by elkement 2024. 3D Lissajous figures.

Thinking about inspiration today! Once, an art platform was asking about who - which artists - have been inspiring me. I want to recapture which artists came to my mind when I filled in that artist profile:

~ Physicist (and noble prize winner) Roger Penrose. I read his book The Road to Reality during the pandemic. Consider it a "popular science book", but nit shy of adding mathematics. I was most enchanted by his hand-drawn old-school illustrations. This book inspired both my attempts at drawing, as well as my digital art. The latter indirectly as my visualization of intriguing functions mentioned by Penrose finally made me install SageMath... which led me to explore threejs and math-related digital art.

~ M. C. Escher who will not need any introduction. I once read he has been more revered among mathematicians than among artists. I don't care. "Gödel. Escher, Bach" was THE formative, influential book of my teenage years. I had always figured, Gödel was my hero. I was into math, not art and music. Or so I thought. Now, I think that maybe, it was Escher after all.

~ An Austrian polymath, the late Peter M. Schuster. He was a laser physicist by training, started a laser physics company, then became a science write specializing in biographies of Austrian physicists, funded a museum called a "Center for the History of Physics". He published poetry and mentioned in an interview he was on the fence of studying either physics or literature. (I wrote kind of a tribute here: https://elkement.art/2021/04/11/peter-m-schuster-on-history-of-science/).

With a little deliberation, I'd add the following three today:

~ Douglas Hofstadter, the author of Gödel, Escher, Bach. His books has stunning images, including also a plot he created during his PhD in solid state physics. I had forgotten that in the meantime, but I guess the fact(?) that a PhD in physics could prepare you for a career / life of making connections between all kinds of hard sciences, arts and literature was certainly something that might have shaped my worldview. My thoughts about Gödel. Escher, Bach including quotes of Hofstadter - how he was thinking about the reception of his book: https://elkement.art/2014/04/26/godel-escher-bach-and-strange-loops-nostalgia-and-random-thoughts/

~ Clifford Stoll - also a wanderer between worlds (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clifford_Stoll), also between worlds dear to me. An astrophysicist who became an expert in cyber security and accidentally started the field of reverse engineering. His book The Cuckoo's Egg is legend in cybersecurity circles. But before I read his book, I actually stumbled upon a video of his: Where he talks about selling ... Klein bottles of blown glass, out of his charming "Doc-Emmet-Brown-style" workshop and art studio!

~ Paul Friedlander - an artist (with degrees in physics and in fine arts) who pioneered what may now be called New Media Art. Look at his light sculptures: https://paulfriedlander.com/Gallery.html . I saw an interview with him... and he also has a Doc-Emmet-Brown-style workshop and art studio. Adding him is actually cheating, or time-travelling. I was quite a while into my own kind of digital art inspired by physics when I stumbled upon an interview with him. But I could not help thinking: Would I have started creating sooner had I noticed that artists like that do actually exist?

[bondshotel]

July 6, 1964 - The Beatles' first feature film, A Hard Day's Night, had its première at the London Pavilion.

A Hard Day's Night is a 1964 British musical comedy film directed by Richard Lester and starring the Beatles—John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr—during the height of Beatlemania. It was written by Alun Owen and originally released by United Artists. The film portrays 36 hours in the lives of the group.

The film was a financial and critical success. Forty years after its release, Time magazine rated it as one of the all-time great 100 films. In 1997, British critic Leslie Halliwell described it as a "comic fantasia with music; an enormous commercial success with the director trying every cinematic gag in the book" and awarded it a full four stars.[The film is credited as being one of the most influential of all musical films, inspiring numerous spy films, the Monkees' television show and pop music videos. In 1999, the British Film Institute ranked it the 88th greatest British film of the 20th century.

The movie's strange title originated from something said by Ringo Starr, who described it this way in an interview with disc jockey Dave Hull in 1964: "We went to do a job, and we'd worked all day and we happened to work all night. I came up still thinking it was day I suppose, and I said, 'It's been a hard day ...' and I looked around and saw it was dark so I said, '... night!' So we came to A Hard Day's Night."

PLOT

Bound for a London show from Liverpool, the Beatles escape a horde of fans ("A Hard Day's Night"). Once they are aboard the train and trying to relax, various interruptions test their patience: after a dalliance with a female passenger, Paul's grandfather is confined to the guard's van and the four lads join him there to keep him company. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr play a card game, entertaining some schoolgirls before arriving at their desired destination ("I Should Have Known Better").

Upon arrival in London, the Beatles are driven to a hotel, only to feel trapped inside. They are tasked to answer numerous letters and fan mail in their hotel room but instead, they sneak out to party ("I Wanna Be Your Man", "Don't Bother Me", "All My Loving"). After being caught by their manager Norm (Norman Rossington), they return to find out that Paul's grandfather John (Wilfrid Brambell) went to the casino. After causing minor trouble at the casino, the group is taken to the theatre where their performance is to be televised. After rehearsals ("If I Fell"), the boys leave through a fire escape and dance around a field but are forced to leave by the owner of the property ("Can't Buy Me Love"). On their way back to the theatre, they are separated when a woman named Millie (Anna Quayle) recognizes John as someone famous but cannot recall who he is. George is also mistaken for an actor auditioning for a television show featuring a trendsetter hostess. The boys all return to rehearse another song ("And I Love Her") and after goofing around backstage, they play another song to impress the makeup artists ("I'm Happy Just to Dance with You").

While waiting to perform, Ringo is forced to look after Paul's grandfather and decides to spend some time alone reading a book. Paul's grandfather, a "villain, a real mixer", convinces him to go outside to experience life rather than reading books. Ringo goes off by himself ("This Boy" instrumental). He tries to have a quiet drink in a pub, takes pictures, walks alongside a canal, and rides a bicycle along a railway station platform. While the rest of the band frantically and unsuccessfully attempts to find Ringo, he is arrested for acting in a suspicious manner. Paul's grandfather joins him shortly after attempting to sell photographs wherein he forged the boys' signatures. Paul's grandfather eventually makes a run for it and tells the rest of the band where Ringo is. The boys all go to the station to rescue Ringo but end up running away from the police back to the theatre ("Can't Buy Me Love") and the concert goes ahead as planned. After the concert ("Tell Me Why", "If I Fell", "I Should Have Known Better", "She Loves You"), the band is taken away from the hordes of fans via helicopter.

From beatlesbible:

The première was attended by The Beatles and their wives and girlfriends, and a host of important guests including Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon. Nearby Piccadilly Circus was closed to traffic as 12,000 fans jostled for a glimpse of the group.

“I remember Piccadilly being completely filled. We thought we would just show up in our limo, but it couldn't get through for all the people. It wasn't frightening - we never seemed to get worried by crowds. It always appeared to be a friendly crowd; there never seemed to be a violent face.”

~ Paul McCartney, Anthology

It was a charity event held in support of the Variety Club Heart Fund and the Docklands Settlements, and the most expensive tickets cost 15 guineas (£15.75).

After the screening The Beatles, the royal party and other guests including The Rolling Stones enjoyed a champagne supper party at the Dorchester Hotel, after which some of them adjourned to the Ad Lib Club until the early hours of the morning.

[thebrilliot]

As a straight white cis dude, I find it entirely rude that other straight white cis men are not trying to teach me to love myself and others, and instead are selling me cryptocurrency and superhero stories. Don't give me that fake hero-and-money-glorifying crap. Give me the real stuff, like being a kid of divorced parents and trying to survive high school, or a multi-generational story all about community and family in a mountain town in Colorado, or making an unlikely friend in the big city, or even good romance.

Do you know how good girls have it reading literature written by women for women about real women's struggles? Book stores are alive because of women's literature. They're packed full to the brim with books written by women for other women. They're just writing poetry back and forth to each other! It's beautiful! These women love each other! Meanwhile, the only thing I can find that is written for men is sci-fi and fantasy and geez it's all the same thing. I don't need fantastical anymore. I don't want to spend another 6 hours figuring out the story behind your world. I don't care if it's epic and grand. Give me some good, reality-grounded, relatable stuff.

Here's what I want to happen in pop culture. I want men to say, "let's talk about forgotten people in history and lift each other up and support each other" which is Six the Musical's message to women. Which is way healthier than what men write for men. Don't try to convince me that I should idolize a founding father who pulled himself up by his bootstraps (by marrying into an influential family where both daughters were in love with him - and note that there is no evidence that Angelica Schuyler ever had feelings for Alexander Hamilton - because who else would I want to idolize other than a man whom women find irresistibly attractive) and single-handedly against all odds created the American financial system, cheated on his wife, paid hush money to keep cheating on his wife, then publicly revealed the affair because he would rather be seen as a cheater than a traitor to his country because hOnOr Is So ImPoRtAnT, then got his son and himself killed in two different duels because AGAIN hOnOr Is So ImPoRtAnT. Nowhere in the entire plot of Hamilton did Alexander Hamilton actually do something purely because he cared about someone else. The revolutionary war and every political dispute was fought and won through pride and stubbornness. John Laurens died in a different part of the country. He didn't pause his work to spend time with his family. He didn't abandon honor to protect himself or his family.

I didn't mean for this to be a rant about Hamilton, but it is a great example of the literature and art that men create for other men. Great music, pacing, etc. but riddled with things that keep bothering me about patriarchy. Stop telling me to be a hero that does everything by himself. Just tell me how to be happy and love the people I love! Don't tell me that because I'm average and feel overlooked that there's actually something special about me that makes me some sort of chosen one. That's not real! I already got told enough of those lies in school. I grew up in gifted and talent student programs through grade school and they told me the same thing. "YoU'rE gOiNg To ChAnGe ThE wOrLd." Actually, probably not, but because I'm a good kid and just the right amount of neurodivergent, I'm going to take you seriously and put an unhealthy amount of pressure on myself and also then fail to reach any of my vague and lofty goals, especially because no one is telling boys and men that community is a crucial part of human life, happiness and fulfillment, mental health, change and progress, and personal growth and accomplishment.

Maybe I don't want to change the world, and maybe I don't want to do things all by myself, and maybe I don't want to rely on finding a wife and having children as a way to find or create a community or a support system. Maybe I get fulfillment out of things other than fame and sex. Where are the men who are writing to me as an audience?

Anyway, the patriarchy sucks. Fuck patriarchal messaging. I reject that. Men, be better. Write something worthwhile for once.