#Phonics sound with One Word

[mangomagictv]

Dive into a world of fun, learning, and endless imagination with Mango Magic Our channel is designed for curious little minds, offering a vibrant mix of educational content, playful adventures, and catchy tunes. From interactive storytelling to colorful animations and songs, Mango Magic brings joy and discovery right to your screen. Join us on magical journeys filled with creativity, and learning through play. Whether it’s learning the ABC, counting numbers, or exploring the wonders of the world, every video is crafted to entertain and inspire young children. Subscribe to "Mango Magic" and let the fun begin

[writers-potion]

Writing Character Accents in Fiction

Hey there, thanks for the question! I speak English as a second language; most English speakers I encounter aren’t native (yes, including fictional people); thus, this is a concern I’ve explored personally when I write. 

I think the core principle regarding accent writing is this: it shouldn’t be distracting. 

For the same reasons why Stephen King prescribes the basic dialogue tag “said” rather than fancier alternatives like “whispered”, “shouted” or “screeched”, dialogue must be first and foremost easy to read. It must flow like a real conversation – the pace and tone are a lot more important than how specific words are being pronounced by the character. 

Focus on what effect the accent has:

Using adjectives to describe their voice in general. Different types of English (American, British, Australian, etc.) will give off a different vibe, also partly dependent on how your character speaks in general:

Lilting: Having a smooth rise and falling quality; sing-song like. Welsh accent is often described as singing. 

Posh: from a high social class. This is the term generally used to describe the upper-class British accent.

Nasal: this happens when the sound goes through somebody’s nose when they’re speaking. North American accents are more nasal than, say, British pronunciations. 

Brash: harsh, loud, indicative of sounding a little rude. 

Slur: speaking indistinctly; words merging into one another.

Using metaphors.

Her voice was cotton and fluffy clouds. 

When he spoke, the ‘r’s scratched the insides of his throat. 

Mentioning their accent with a brief example(s). 

“Would you like to drink some wine?” she said, though her Indian accent gave extra vibration to her ‘w’s and ‘r’s, making the words sound more like ‘vould you like to drrrink some vine’.

“I want some chocolate.” His syllables were choppy and ‘l’s rather flat, saying ‘cho-ko-lit’. 

Some Tips:

Don’t phonically spell out everything. Perhaps give a few examples in the beginning, but stick to standard English spellings. 

Pay attention to word choice, slang, and colloquialisms. 

An Australian person would say “tram”, not “trolley; “runners” instead of “sneakers”

A Canadian may refer to a “fire hall” – what Americans call a firehouse or fire station

If your character comes from a non-Enligsh background:

Use vocabulary from other languages. 

“What time was the exam, ah? Two o’clock? Jiayou!” → putting “ah” or “la” at the end of sentences + Jiayou means “break a leg” in Singlish. 

“I can’t believe that 4-year-olds have their own SNS accounts now.” → “SNS” is short for “social networking service”, a term used to refer to social media in Korea. This would a subtle difference – even though it isn’t technically Korean at all!

Transpose grammar from different languages. 

For example, in French, plural nouns take plural adjectives (whereas in English, you would speak of ‘white cars’, not ‘whites cars’).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[nientedal]

Oh, my god, context clues are meant to be a way to figure out what a word MEANS, not what a word IS. A kid should not see "horse" and say "pony" because there's a picture of a horse-like animal accompanying the text. What happens when there are no pictures to go on? What the fuck?

But also, I don't think I've seen anyone claiming fandom is causing a drop in actual fundamental literacy. If OP is referring to the post circulating about a media literacy crisis, I think they may have misunderstood something. "Media literacy" is a term that refers to reading comprehension and the ability to think critically while reading, to assess how biased the news article you're reading is and see what the bias is. And, yes, to a different degree and along a different vein, the ability to understand the separation between fictional and real-world behavior. The ability to think about and analyze the difference between an author and what they write, whether that is fiction, non-fiction, or news reporting.

That is what media literacy means. It is a compound noun referring to a set of competencies. Not the ability to read AT ALL. Those are two totally different things.

(Also, and I cannot believe I even have to say this, fandom is very obviously not the cause of the drop in media literacy. The post I think OP is referring to does not claim that it is. The pearl-clutching purity wank nonsense (seen in fandom and outside of it) is a SYMPTOM of a lack of media literacy, not the cause.)

i'm so glad someone else was bitchy about that post bc i couldn't be bothered to when i saw it. the reason that literacy rates in the usa are poor is because of rising inequality and also because kids are just straight up being taught to read wrong. not because of fucking fanfiction or YA or 'puriteens' or whatever the fuck else is the bugbear of the week for people who still stake their self esteem on their high school english grades

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve���s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

[olderthannetfic]

Now I'm wondering how countries like Japan and China teach literacy.

Since kanji / hanzi don't really have that much in the way of phonetic elements, they kinda have to teach them by memorization and I don't think they have many reading comprehension problems over there.

(Although both countries do have supplementary phonetic writing systems in the form of bopomofo and pinyin for China, and the kanas for Japan)

--

FAVORITE SOAPBOX TOPIC UNLOCKED!

RELEASE THE KRAKEN!

It's a little closer to teaching vocabulary than spelling, but the same kinds of principles apply: You teach the building blocks, like the traditional radicals, which aren't so different from teaching Latin and Greek roots in an English class for English speakers.

And, as a matter of fact, lots of those radicals do predict pronunciation, just not in every single case. They can also be clues to meaning, but again, not absolutely consistently. Many characters have a sound-cueing radical on one side and a meaning-cueing radical on the other. It's just that only some are still useful in the modern day, while others are more like the English word 'plumbing' where knowledge of Roman lead pipes explains why this word comes from the one for lead, but the root probably wouldn't help a kid learn the word in the first place.

One similarity to teaching phonics would be teaching students to tell very complicated and similar characters apart: you want to help a student spot all the little building blocks of the character and then spot the ones that are different, not just glance at the whole character and get a general overall vibe. If you do a whole look-based approach, too many characters are too easy to mistake for one another.

Remembering a bajillion Chinese characters is hard if you're trying to memorize them in a year and not all of elementary school, but I think people who don't read them underestimate how many component parts there are and how approachable they can be if you start by learning fundamentals, not just memorizing a few individual characters as though they have no relation to anything else.

They're actually pretty systematic, just in the way that English spelling is with its overlapping systems and historical artifacts, not in the way that highly regular Spanish spelling is.

Having taken a lot of Japanese classes, I will say that Japanese as a foreign language textbooks often do a piss poor job of this and totally do teach kanji in a sight words-y way... But my Mandarin class started with important foundational concepts that served me well in Japanese later even if I bombed out of Chinese class at the time.

Can you tell how irritated I am by all the foreign language learners who think characters are sooooo hard when, really, it's just their crappy textbook? Haha.

They're moderately hard in the way that learning a full adult spectrum of vocabulary is hard, but people do that for foreign languages all the time. The countries that use characters do tend to make sets that are smaller for certain kinds of applications, same as we have things like simple English wikipedia, but a literate adult will always know lots more, whether it's from their career in engineering or their predilection for historical romance novels.

Uh... anyway, the answer is "Bit by bit in elementary school, just like in any other country".

[whimsyraincoats]

boy meets girl; jess mariano

cute imagine with jess meeting a certain other gilmore daughter! not sure if it’s a series yet, we’ll see!

words: approx 1.6k

Walking through the doorway, the dark haired boy couldn't think of anywhere he'd want to be less. Just that morning, the woman who introduced herself as Lorelai, had told him that she had two daughters about his age. He can't be completely sure as he wasn't exactly 'actively listening' but by the time his brain had caught up to what his ears were hearing, the idea of twins living in such a town like Stars Hollow had him thinking everyone was cartoon characters. Jess Mariano couldn't picture anything other than identical twins in matching outfits, with the same comedic, animated personalities as the whole town.

Following the source of the noise and clatter into the kitchen, against his will, Jess shared a small greeting to the first of the matching set, Rory. Seemingly, the calmest and least annoying of the group yet, he noted. After being subjected to talk of lemons and being quizzed to no end about his dietary requirements, Jess slipped away from the chaos to what he believed was the living room. Taking in its state, he noticed the odd arrangement of the table and decided that it must not be its permeant place. He glanced down at his watch from beneath his dark grey hoodie sleeve, and looks at the time. Simultaneously, the boy's ears pricked up at the sound of David Bowie that came from up the stairs.

Curiosity and boredom getting the better of him, he climbed the stairs one at a time, planks creaking under each step. All aspects of politeness gone from Jess since he stepped off the bus earlier apparent, as he waltzed though the open bedroom door at the opposite end of the landing. His eyes surveyed the room as some excitement sparked there as he took in the posters, stacked CDs and endless amount books overflowing the shelves. The dark haired boy's gaze landing on where the music is coming from as it changes intro Big Exit by PJ Harvey.

Meanwhile, the brunette girl dragged a comb through her bangs one last time before placing it back onto the bathroom counter with a curse as she noticed the time. Happy with her final decision pertaining to her outfit, she hopped on one foot into the hallway as she pulls her knee high sock up her shin to its full length. Just as the dark haired boy turns to leave the bedroom he was currently standing in.

"Oh my-! Jesus Christ, way to give a girl a fright!" The girl heaves, with a hand placed on her chest. She eyed the boy as he opened his mouth to say something, not before a persistent sing song interrupts them.

"Reyaaa, Jess! Party's moved to the living room!" Lorelai enthusiastically announces up the stairs.

"Coming!" The girl yells over the banister before walking back over to the now-named mystery boy.

"Jess huh? Guessing you're Luke's nephew, right?"

"Nothing gets past you ay" Monotonal, Jess replied as he quirked his eyebrow.

"I'm Freya." Pair complete. "You know you're acting very nonchalant for a boy I just caught snooping in my room."

The boy in question scratches the back of his head slowly. "Wasn't snooping, just looking, admiring even. 'S a difference." His mind refused to believe his heart just skipped a beat as they both lined up in her bedroom doorway, only inches apart as Jess leans on the side of it. Her sparkly, brown eyes invoked a certain feeling in him when they made eye contact.

Freya gently pads across her floor to her CD player and speaker as she presses pause. "You like Bowie?" She questions.

"Yea, it's what made me come upstairs." The brunette turns to share a grin with the boy now hovering by her bookshelves. "Aren't we hooked on phonics?" Jess murmurs.

Letting out a chuckle she replies, "Do you read?"

"Not much." As he picks up a book to examine the cover.

"I could lend you that it's great!" She exclaims as she finally takes in the dark haired boy standing in her room. His grey hoodie nearly fully zipped, paired with dark jeans that rest loosely on his hips. His eyebrows furrowing as his dark brown eyes bore into a page in the book. She felt a blush creeping into her cheeks as she finds herself aware of how handsome he really is.

With a shrug, he put the book back, "No thanks."

Trying to hide her disappointment at the rejection, Freya tried to change the subject.

“Okay erm well I think we-”

“Do these open?” Jess cut her off as he gestured to the window.

“Oh.. yeah, just unlatch then push.” She said as she awkwardly stood by her bed,

“So shall we…?” The girl looked at him with confusion before what he’s referring to clicked.

“Oh, I promise you even if you could climb down, there’s nowhere to bail to.” Slightly bored at the interaction, Freya walked over to her door. “I get you have the need to do or say the opposite of whatever people, in this case Luke, wants you to do, but I’m so hungry. And Sookie, while borderline insane, is a really good cook, so as much as I hate to say it, you’re on your own.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” The boy replied dryly.

“I know!” Freya replied softly with an amused glint in her eyes, knowing his response proves her point. “Come downstairs and eat and you can tell me all about you.” She flirted as she looked over her shoulder while holding the door handle.

Jess let out a smirk while he looked down at his shoes and shaking his head.

Taking that and his silence as a no, the girl stepped through the doorway. “Well, close the door behind you, or the…window? Which ever one you end up using.” She said with a smile on her lips.

Descending down the stairs, Freya couldn’t help but notice the warm curiosity growing inside her at the thought of the boy.

౨ৎ

Checking her watch, the brunette decreased the pace of her steps back to a walk as she headed for Stars Hollow Books. In a miscommunication with her, not so happy, Mom, she had been told the time rounded up, hence the original hurrying, but alas the girl will make it before the store shuts for the evening.

While walking, her mind wandered back to the mismatched stories of the last 24 hours. After having met Jess, although not massive on the manners or socialising, considering he had just moved was perfectly reasonable. However all Freya had heard for the last day from her Mom was the verbal abuse of his character. Even Luke’s too due to their recent fight that even trumps Sid and Nancy, just to add to the confusion even more.

She heard Jess come down the stairs a moment after her while she was passing plates along, but didn’t see him after that. Further developing the mystery that’s been stuck in her mind.

Fiddling with the plastic handle between her fingers, the girl walks out of the Market with a textbook and a folder she desperately needed.

Lost in thought, she crossed the road with her house as her destination, when a familiar voice snapped her out of it.

“Hey.” Freya snaps her head round to look at the boy who she seemed to have summoned by thinking about him.

“Hey, yourself.”

“What’re you doing out here this time of night?” Jess questions with raised eyebrows.

“Just getting somethings I needed for school, how about you?”

“Oh yeah same.” He dismisses.

“You know, it was quite the disappearing act you pulled yesterday.” The brown eyed girl brought up, after a moment of almost awkward silence between them.

“Huh- yeah, as tempting as your offer was, tupperware parties and potlucks really aren’t my thing.” He replied as he untucked his hands from his pockets.

“Just too cool for school huh.” She said, amused as she took him in, his puffer vest, his watch resting on his wrist and a coin he’s moving in his hands. “What’re you doing?” The girl questions.

“Oh this-” Showing her the coin, answered “Just another little disappearing act.” As he revealed his hand as empty of said coin.

Suppressing a giggle, Freya shines him a smile with creased eyes.

“Jess, if you ever want to speak to me again, please don’t pull that out my ear.”

After cracking a smile that unlocked a sense of accomplishment in the girl, replied. “Understood.”

“Hey, I like your shirt.” Jess complimented.

Looking down at it to check which one she happened to throw on earlier, she grinned once more. “Thanks! How much Beatles stuff do you know?” She asked excitedly, her eyes illuminated.

“Oh, only the stuff that everyone does, I wouldn’t have been lined up to be one of their groupies that’s for sure.” He joked.

“Hey, speak for yourself, I adore them, I would’ve been pushing other girls out the way. I adore any British band to be completely honest.” Freya spoke with excitement.

“I know, your room isn’t exactly keeping that a secret you’know.” He referenced the multitude of Britpop, The Smiths and The Beatles posters spaced on her walls. Jess couldn’t help but marvel at the way her face flushed at the prolonged eye contact and his comment.

Snapping out of her trance, the girl glanced down at his arm and gently held his sleeve to check the time. The boy’s body grew alert at the touch. “Shit! I’ve got to go in a sec, I hadn’t realised the time.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’ll leave you with one last magic trick. He dramatically stated as he pulls a familiar book out of his pocket.

“You bought a copy? I told you I’d lend you mine!”

“It is yours.”

“You stole my book!” She accused, dumbfounded.

“Well, I just wanted to put some notes in the margins for you.” He handed the book over, as he tried not to let his mind linger on the way their hands touched.

The girls eyes furrowed in confusing as she flicked through the pages.

Looking up innocently, “I thought you said you didn’t read much?”

“Well what is much?” The boy replied with a drawn out shrug and smirk. “Goodbye, Reya.”

Desperate to hide her slight astonishment, smirked as she began to walk away.

“Goodbye, Dodger.”

After a few paces, she looks back to be met with a smug grin. “Oliver Twist.”

The brown haired girl couldn’t help but share the grin while she nodded. Despite all the things she had heard about him in the last day, she couldn’t help but feel giddy at their interactions. The twin secretly hoped there would be more in the future.

an; i’ve read this so many times i think i hate it. hahaha jk and hope the dialogue is okay i was doing it from memory!!! OH and yes i used my own name for the character hahahaha it’s better than y/n atleast!!!<3

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Recently, through Twitter, I have become aware of the fact that modern American parents have been very ignorant of their parental duties when it comes to their children. Parents are banding together to complain about the schools their children attend because their kids are getting bad grades in class, or they're getting detentions for doing bad consistently, or they're being held back because they're just not at the same level as their peers.

There was an entire thread of some woman whining about how the school was failing her kid, because his English class grade was so bad. There were thousands of comments agreeing and various reposts with anecdotes from other parents with similar experiences.

"My 26 y/o son can't even write a check for God's sake!"

And one single person finally replied with, "Do you guys not teach your kids anything at home before they start going to school?" Which then spawned people with actual common sense questioning the level of involvement these people had in the lives of their kids.

This is what led to a large surge of people complaining about how it's the school's job to teach them everything and they did their job just keeping them alive.

Now, I don't want to be mean, but it's gonna come across that way.

Parents are lazy these days.

When I was a child, my Nana and mom had me learning with Hooked on Phonics before I entered pre-K. I was 3 years old and already sounding out words that rhymed. I was practicing how quickly I could say them in under 30 seconds so I could progress to the next lesson.

mat hat sat that cat vat pat bat fat lat rat brat

etc...

When I was in pre-K(4 years old), they had a single, really old computer that had a bunch of Winnie the Pooh CD-ROM games. Because I always got my work done faster than everybody else, they let me use the computer because I could actually read and follow Pooh's instructions, and it kept me busy.

And when I entered kindergarten for the first time, I was really surprised to see that Hooked on Phonics was actually part of my curriculum and I was already very well ahead of everyone else. My mom and Nana took traching me very seriously. They not only read to me, but they would also get me Madeline books and cassette tapes from the children's library downtown. And then I would listen to the cassettes telling the story while reading the book at the same time to get used to the words.

At three years old, I was helping out in the kitchen, learning all of the different kitchen utensils and types of measurement. My mom often went between English, French and American Sign Language at random times so I picked up a lot of stuff that way. We never had a computer in the house for the first 12 years of my life, but I did have an old keyboard to learn how to type. Nana gave me basic piano lessons for a couple years. Mom taught me how to hem my clothes because she would buy me bigger clothes, hem them to size, and then let them out as I grew. Hell, Sperm Donor taught me how to write a check when I was 8. He was also a Financial Adviser, so I got a lot of lessons on money management, investments, and 401Ks and shit.

All these incredibly simple things ended up benefiting me later on, because I was so far ahead of all of the other students that it consistently put me at odds with them. I was better at reading, cooking, sewing, music, languages, etc... I was allowed time to do whatever I wanted while the rest of them had to catch up.

There is a lot more to being a parent than just making sure your kid eats three meals a day and doesn't die in a stupid way. And it seems like a lot of parents these days have completely forgotten that they have a duty to their kids beyond the feeding and clothing thing.

Certain things SHOULD be taught in schools, like how to balance a checkbook. But if it's clear that the school won't cover it, why aren't YOU doing something about that? And why do so many parents have no clue what the hell their kids are even getting up to in school? Why don't y'all get involved in your kid's lives?

[nectardaddy]

another rant about inumaki's speech (hi, hello I'm a teacher and used to teach primary which is all about learning letters/sounds/blends/basic words)

inumaki had to have learned his cursed words in a VERY secluded environment. I would also venture to say the inumaki clan is probably very well versed in phonics and morphology. they have to be, especially while trying to learn how to speak or teach their children how to speak.

my best guess on how he actually learned to speak is honestly pretty simple: he had to enunciate really, really slowly.

take the word "cat" (after letters, which even for him would have been pretty straightforward - there's no harm in just letters, you start with one syllable words.) he would've had to learn, even from just simple words like cat, to sound out words slowly. breaking down each letter to the point it barely sounded like a word. saying each sound with a pause, and if he knew the word was a safe word he could fully blend it together.

however with cursed words- he would do the same thing BUT he couldn't blend the word together fully unless it was a controlled environment.

I use the word "twist" as an example all the time, but it's a harder word to master so it's a good example. with twist he would've already had to learn letter blends (tw, qu, cr, etc...) he would genuinely have to sound this word out agonizingly slow when he was learning it as to not hurt himself or others. but when it came time to practice it, he most definitely failed to blend the whole word together on numerous occasions.

kids find it pretty easy to know what a letter/letter blend sounds like, but to put words together is actually very hard.

(things get REALLY complicated in 3,2,1...)

THIS BEING SAID- there's a big difference between encoding and decoding words. encoding words is using your knowledge of letter sounds to sound out words. decoding is blending these sounds together to form the word, and thus being a fluent reader. decoding (even though it seems silly, but I promise there's a science to it) helps a reader/speaker understand what they're reading. if you don't understand the word and how to say it, 9/10 you don't understand the meaning.

inumaki is probably a VERY GOOD speller because all he knows is encoding. while he can read, it's probably a bit behind because of his lack of decoding skills (not like he can help it though- his clan probably didn't even teach him certain words). he's probably a very slow reader (nothing wrong with that tho, I am too!) because he only knows how to encode words (sound out letter by letter) rather than decode them (blend the word together).

thank you for coming to my insane ted talk

@inumakis-boo @inumakisser idk if yall will enjoy this lmao but just some thoughts

[silkwyrm]

people will say "not even going to TRY to pronounce that one" about even the simplest non-english words. literally like grade-school level phonics cmon sound it out *remembers they dont teach kids phonics anymore* ahhh all is lost

[bethanythebogwitch]

All of my recent Wet Beast Wednesday posts have been about relatively small animals, so this time let's go big. This week's topic is on the sperm whale, a winner of multiple size-based records, including being the largest toothed predator and largest of the toothed whales. These absolute units are known for their famous rivalry with giant squid and their history with the whaling industry.

(image id: a mother sperm whale and her calf. They are both large, long, grey animals with squarish heads. The calf is behind the mother and about half the size. The calf also appears to have multiple remoras attached to it)

First of all, why is it called a sperm whale? When I started researching for this post, I thought it must be a quirk of translation or a word that changed meaning over time and surely couldn't be named after THAT sperm, right? Well, I'm sad to say that's not the case. It really is the cum whale. More specifically, it is named after spermaceti, a substance inside the whale's head, that was believed to be semen. Spermaceti even translates to "whale semen". Yeah I'm not happy about that either. Sperm whales are also called chacalots and nobody really knows why. There are suggestions that it comes from old French words for "big teeth" or the vulgar Latin word for a sword hilt. At least it's not sperm this time. Its scientific name is Physeter macrocephalus, which means "blowhole big head", which is also fortunately lacking in references to sperm.

(image id: a sperm whale seen from the font and left. It is just under the surface of the water, with the tip of its snout touching the surface.)

Sperm whales are big even by whale standards, though there are still baleen whales that are bigger. In an extreme example of sexual dimporhism, males can be 30 - 50% larger and three times as heavy as females. An average adult male reaches an average of 16 meters (52 ft) and 45000 kg (100000 lbs) while females reach an average size of 11 meters (36 ft) and 15000 kg (34000 lbs). The average sizes of sperm whales has decreased since record were first kept. This is likely a result of the largest individuals being targeted heavily by whalers, resulting in only the smaller animals being able to pass on their genes. Some recent studies suggest that trend may be beginning to reverse itself now that the animals are no longer actively hunted.

(image: two sperm whales seen from above. They are at the surface of the water, with their backs avome the surface. One of them is releasing a spout of water vapor from its blowhole)

Possibly the most notable feature of a sperm whale is that giant, square head. Cetacean heads contain melons, organs filled with oily or fatty tissue that are used in echolocation. Unlike other cetaceans, the sperm whale has two such organs: the spermaceti organ and the junk, the latter of which is analogous to the melons of other whales. The spermaceti organ is a sac filled with the spermaceti, a waxy substance composed largely of wax esters. Harvesting of the spermaceti was the main reason sperm whales were hunted as it could be used for lubrication and as candles and lamp oil. Spermaceti is liquid when within the whale and solidifies at around 30 degrees C. A single whale can hold up to 1,900 liters of spermaceti. An air tube runs through the head and ends in a pair of phonic lips (the sperm whale has a single pair while all other toothed whales have two pairs). The lips produce the clicks used in echolocation and that sound travels through the spermaceti and reflects off another organ called the frontal sac, which acts as a sound mirror. Think those satellite dishes that you can whisper into and people standing way away from you can hear it. The frontal sac reflects most of the sound through the junk, which amplified it further. The sound that does not go to the junk is reflected back and forward through the spermaceti organ to create multiple clicks with each vocalization. The spermaceti organ and junk amplify the sound of the clicks to such an extent that the sperm whale is the loudest animal on earth, capable of making 230 decibel clicks. That's louder than a jet engine at takeoff. Side note, why is a jet engine the default comparison for loud things? In addition to echolocation, sperm whales also use vocalizations to communicate with each other. Types of vocalizations are learned from parents, creating multiple distinct "dialects" of sperm whale sound. The Spermaceti organ and junk are also believed to add protective padding to the head. One hypothesis says that the spermaceti is also used in buoyancy regulation. The idea is that before a dive, the whale would pump cold water through tis head, cooling and solidifying the spermaceti to reduce buoyancy. Then on the dive, body heat and heat transfer would melt the spermaceti again, increasing buoyancy for the trip back to the surface. This hypothesis is considered poor due to a lack of evidence and the fact that solidifying the spermaceti would impede echolocation right when the whale would need it the most.

(image id: a diagram showing a side cross-section of a sperm whale's head. Most of the head is taken up by the spermaceti organ (top) and junk (below). Below the junk are the upper and lower jaw bones)

Sperm whales are master divers. They hunt in the deep ocean and of all marine mammals, only the elephant seal and Cuvier's beaked whale dive deeper. Their dives can reach up to 2,250 meters (7,382 ft) deep and can stay underwater for up to 2 hours, though most dives last around 45 minutes. To accommodate for such deep dives, special adaptations are needed. Their lungs can collapse under the pressure and their ribcages will close to protect them. The lung collapse reduced excess nitrogen intake (which can lead to nitrogen narcosis) and they can slow their metabolisms to reduce oxygen usage. Their muscles contain more myoglobin (which stores oxygen) and they more red blood cells than most animals. When oxygen levels get low, they can redirect blood flow to the brain and other essential systems. Their eyes are the largest of all toothed whales and they have good vision and sensitivity to light, helping them see in the deep ocean. Their jaws are also adapted to hunt their prey. The jaw is very skinny and has teeth only on the lower mandible. The teeth grow rings like trees, allowing them to be used to age whales. The teeth do not seem to be essential for feeding as toothless whales have been found still well-fed. They are carnivores who feed primarily on squid but will also eat octopi, bony and cartilaginous fish, and salps. While sperm whales are famous for eating giant squid, most of their diet is composed of medium-sized squid weighing between 12 and 650 grams (0.026 and 1.43 lbs). We do know they eat giant and colossal squid both from finding squid beaks in the stomachs of beached specimens and from the scars left by the suckers and hooks of the squid on the whales' skin. While classic depictions of the hunts depicted a titanic struggle between two equals, with the squid eating the whales just as the whales ate the squid. Now its believed that the fights are entirely one-sided with the whales winning the vast majority of encounters. Tagging has shown that the whales swim upside-down as they hunt. They are likely looking for the silhouettes of prey against the surface or for bioluminescence. They also hunt with echolocation. While it has been suggested that their sonar clicks are powerful enough to stun prey, recent research has show this is likely not the case. Sperm whales eat about 3% of their body weight every day. Sperm whales, as well as other deep-diving predators, help circulate nutrients in the ocean. They consume nutrients in the deep ocean, then defecate in surface waters, releasing those nutrients where they can fertilize plankton. This also helps carbon sequestration as phytoplankton fertilized by the feces remove carbon from the atmosphere and carry it to the deep sea when they die. It is calculated that whaling in the Southern Ocean resulted in a release of 2 million tonnes of carbon into the atmosphere each year.

(image id: a pod of sperm whaled beginning their descent into the deep sea. There are 8 individuals, three of which remain parallel to the surface of the water. The rest and aimed downward)

Like other cetaceans, sperm whales are social animals. Females and juveniles live in groups called pods while adult males live outside the pods either alone or in small groups of other bachelors. Sperm whales who live together do so in groups called social units that are often, but not always, the same as their pod. Leaving and joining social groups is rare, leaving their membership very stable. When socializing, sperm whales use unique patterns of clicks called codas. It was formerly thought that codas were used as names, not it is now known that whales will use multiple codas. They also spend time nuzzling each other. They are also believed to use group hunting tactics to herd prey. The only predator of adult sperm whales is the orca, and they prefer to target calves or weaker adults. Orca pods will attack sperm whale pods to try to isolate a vulnerable member. Pod members will protect these vulnerable members by circling them, usually facing tail-out. The tails are capable of delivering powerful blows that could kill an attacking orca. This formation is called a marguerite formation. Lone males may come to the defense of a nearby pod under attack. On some occasions, sperm whales will swim alongside other cetations and there is a recorded instance of a pod adopting a bottlenose dolphin with a spinal deformity for unknown reasons. Sperm whales sleep together, suspended vertically just under the surface. While most cetaceans only sleep half of their brain at a time, it is possible that sperm whales can sleep their entire brain at once.

(image id: a pod of sperm whales sleeping. There are six positioned vertically in the water, with their head facing up. A seventh members remains horizontal and appears to be awake)

An individual whale can live for up to 70 years. Females reach sexual maturity at age 9 and bear a single calf at a time. The calf will nurse for an average of 19 - 42 months, but sometimes significantly longer. Sperm whale milk is extremely fatty, consisting of 36% fat (compare to 6% fat in cow milk) and has a texture like cream cheese. This high fat content helps the juvenile develop its blubber and its thickness keeps it from dissolving the the water. While giving birth, a mother will be protected by other members of her pod. After birth, other pod members sometimes jostle and bite the newborn. Most females give birth every 4 to 20 years and these rates were higher during the peak of whaling years. Females seems to become infertile in their 40s. Older, post-fertile females will lead the pods and provide assistance to younger mothers. Males provide no parental care. A male will mate with multiple females and they do fight each other for dominance and access to mates, but do not form harems. Fights seem to involve ramming each other and biting.

(image id: a sperm whale calf nursing. The mother is positioned vertically and her front half extends beyond the picture's frame. The calf is suckling at her side near the ventral surface. A cloud of white milk is around its mouth)

Like other whales, sperm whales were highly affected by whaling. While the spermaceti was the main target of whalers, they were also hunted for their blubber, teeth, and ambergris. Ambergris is a substance that forms in the intestines in response to irritants. The sperm whale can't digest the squid beaks and while it can vomit out a lot of them, some pass into the intestines. To prevent the sharp beaks form damaging the intestines (which can reach 300 meters/948 ft long and are the longest of any animal), the bile duct secretes the ambergris to surround the beak and ease its passage. It can be considered analogous to an oyster forming a pearl around a grain of sand. Ambergris is a think, waxy substance known for its extremely pungent, fecal smell. It was famously used as a fixative in perfume recipes and was therefore incredibly valuable. Now that whaling is much rarer, most ambergris is found when it floats to shore and perfume companies have switched over to artificial fixatives. The teeth were used for their ivory and were often carved into ornamental pieces called scrimshaw. Sperm whales were notable for their ability to fight back against the whalers, often by ramming the boats. At least a few whaling ships were sunken by their would-be targets. Famously the sinking of the whaling ship Essex inspired the writing of the novel Moby Dick. Large whales, including sperm whales, were nearly driven to extinction by whaling. The International Whaling Commission gave the species legal protection in 1985, though Japan still hunts them and has caught an reported 51 individuals since 2000.The peak of sperm whaling happened in the 1960s, causing the population to drop dangerously low. Since then, the population has been recovering and is currently estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands. Sperm whales have recovered from whaling better than many other species and are classified as vulnerable by the IUCN. Threats include illegal whaling, global climate change, and noise from ships that appears to increase beaching numbers.

(image id: a chunk of ambergris. It is an irregular object with multiple lumps. It is a pale orange color. Part of a squid beak is visible at the side, appearing as a smooth surface with a dark orange color)

jizz whale

[meraki-yao]

I wanted to translate this one post from a Chinese RWRB fan on Weibo that summarized a lot of Taylor did on the day of GQ events and how the fans felt about him, because it’s really sweet

Translation:

Puppy Taylor is really so sincere, and he’s sincere to anyone and everyone

In September during the Ferrari show he met Editor Liu and was invited to the event that didn’t even have a confirmed date. At the time he just said “I’ll come if I have time”. But in the end, he really came, straight after he finished his last event, and took a red-eye flight across the ocean by himself to Shanghai. He went straight to fix his style and fit after the flight and went to attend his friend’s dinner party, and helped said friend’s new magazine gain traction through live stream etc.

The GQ event suggested for guest not to wear Haute couture, some mainland celebrities still did, but Taylor chose a local old brand, and the brand’s passion about being eco-friendly just as he is.

Taylor is also so sincere to his fans. He signed book after book, and took photo after photo. He treasured the gifts fans gave him and carried them himself all the way. When he signs for fans he asks for every single fan's name and tries his best to remember them. Taylor also took photos of the fans, of the oarsman, and of the photographer. He laid down on the bow of the boat to sign for fans. And for the fans who didn’t come, he accepted taking video calls to say hi to them. He made hand hearts with fans, and when a fan asked to hold his hand, he didn’t even hesitate. He wrote “I flew across the ocean to see you” when signing books. He even shaved his facial hair which he kept for a long time to match the taste of the people around him, transforming back to ACD. Taylor sincerely praises every single staff member he crosses paths with and treats them like new friends. He’s spreading happiness with so much passion.

There’s still so much more, Taylor is just such a wonderful person, he’s just the best. 😭

Notes:

I tried my best with the translation, but I am in no way professional, so please forgive me if it sounds weird (The original post was choppy in Chinese too😅)

The translation of Taylor's name in the original post isn't his official translated name 泰勒 (tài lè, or "thai"-"le") which is just phonic, it's the fan translation 忒樂 (tè lè, or "Tay"-"le" ) which is arguably more phonic and means "too happy"

Puppy狗狗 is a nickname Chinese fans gave Taylor, I made a whole list of nicknames Chinese RWRB fans gave the boys here

Regarding the dress code thing, all of Taylor’s outfits from yesterday came from a Chinese local menswear brand that was established in 1980

Regarding his facial hair, the beauty standards of China prefer men to be clean-shaven. If you look at mainland Chinese celebrities of Taylor’s age, unless a role demands it, which is really rare, they rarely keep facial hair. I honestly don’t know if this was the reason Taylor shaved, this part in the post is just speculation, but there is this connection.

Regarding the excessive use of the word sincere, there really isn’t a better word (at least in my vocabulary) to describe what the op meant. But sincerity is a really, really treasured quality to Chinese people

Please understand that Chinese celebrity culture and fan culture is pretty different from Western celebrity culture and fan culture, so certain things they did are viewed differently on this side of the web/ world. If you want to know more about these differences or have any questions, feel free to dm me and ask about it.

[mangomagictv]

ABCD Alphabet - Phonics sound with One Word - A is for apple - English Alphabet Letter (A to Z)

[gynandromorph]

I find your comics about Legend really really fascinating and really wanna understand how her thesis works, but not knowing very much about Nofna's worldbuilding, I feel lost? I've really enjoyed your Nofna style emulations and you put a lot of care into exploring the intricacies of her powers

not sure i can explain well, zachary has explained the powers as "advanced pretend." imagine if you could imagine something hard enough to project it into reality. there is a step in between, where you can only project what you're imagining into another person's perception of reality. here's how nofna explains it:

Legend's thesis particularly rubs up against the instant transmission of language. Art in the comic is language without language -- in order to communicate with depth, you have to be speaking to someone who has already agreed upon a specific set of parameters to communicate: words. animals did not have words to communicate with each other, so they used this to settle "disagreements."

Legend's thesis, at first, focuses specifically on the agreed-upon transmission of language via writing, not Art as a whole. she finds it interesting that words can communicate ideas involuntarily, even when there is no one communicating that idea. words are a language with which even dead people can speak. the first inception of her thesis functions by projecting letters and words at a target to force them to read it. she investigates why it is that one can project ideas onto someone else that they might disagree with, even though the medium of communication (writing) is agreed-upon. she comes to understand that reading relies on involuntary recall of information -- memorizing phonics (the sounds letters "make"). she knows that this method of communication still only works if all parties have agreed to LEARN HOW TO READ in the first place, and pursues empathic transmission (other-oriented reception of communication) as the source. her thesis moves on to function by manipulating mirror neurons by projecting writing at her opponent. she runs into a dead end with mirror neurons, which activate while acting, observing acts, or reading about acts. she pursues the viability of memory as a source of transmission for reading to manipulate. her thesis begins to function by projecting pretend onto memory networks in the opponent's brain and obfuscating what information in their head is real or fantasy. the style thematically adopts her experiences of psychosis and the ambiguity of reality in one's sense perception; there's really no way of telling if what you're perceiving is real or not, though the use of evidence may assist in coming to a judgment. because the style manipulates memories, it does not rely on being impressive or novel to be accepted by an opponent's mind, so it becomes "undeniable" (able to be rejected as false). the fourth and final form of Legend's style comes after a critique from Pegging during which she is told that reality and fantasy are not the same thing. if they were the same thing, they would not have separate words to differentiate them. there is a fundamental difference between them, separated by some sort of wall. though outraged by having the core of her thesis pulled out from under her again, Legend investigates the fourth wall, and why her thesis was able to manipulate reality itself with no reader to receive it. she comes to the conclusion that the common thread between reality and fantasy which has allowed her thesis to function is narrative -- the chronological ordering of events to produce a logical argument. in the case of reality, it's simply forced to bend to the rules of logic. nothing that happens in reality is illogical. no effect happens without a cause. writing and memories preserve aspects of reality from the past to the future as information, but things that happened in the past don't stop existing if they aren't written down; the placement and force of every atom in this universe is entirely built upon its historical context. her thesis comes to function by turning the world into words representing said historical context, onto which she can project retroactive continuity, instead of turning herself into words to project outwards at others. it comes to fail because the only reason for fantasy to exist is an imperfect world from which it can deviate.

i hope this explained how all that works; it's sort of pretentious (no pun intended), like all philosophy.

[jamerasjournal]

Black people speak two languages. Job interview and AAVE. Question: When I fill out a job application can I still check the box that says bilingual. Does my ability to code switch depending on the setting that I’m in count as a job skill? I am always subconsciously turning down my blackness in an effort to make other people more comfortable. Beyoncé once said, “Got all this money but you’ll never take the country out me.” I felt that. I started kindergarten already knowing how to read and write. And no matter how many times my mama made me practice Hooked on Phonics, my first language will always be Ebonics. Spell Mississippi. M-I crooked letter, crooked letter- I- crooked letter, crooked letter- I- humpback, humpback- I. Okay, but spell it for real this time. M-I crooked letter, crooked letter- I- crooked letter, crooked letter- I- humpback, humpback- I. Did I stutter? I bet my great-great-great-granddaddy had an accent so thick that one sentence sounded like one word. And what’s in that word? Levels upon levels of trauma that you couldn’t even begin to fathom. It’s a slave spiritual sung over plantation fields, the last two letters spun into the cotton in your t-shirt. An apostrophe added cuz If you say one more syllable, you just might get whipped, boy. It’s living in a world where you can’t read the words. Mispronouncing words you don’t even know how to spell. While the rest of the world looks at you like you ain’t got no sense. But tonight, I’m gon’ talk how I wanna talk, cuz that slang is in my bones. And if you don’t like it you can get up out my face. Period. And I don’t wanna hear a nan ‘notha word about me talking “ghetto” when I stand before you with a last name my ancestors wouldn’t even begin to know how to say. And every time I sign my name I’m paying homage to the white family that used to own mine. Our language is one of the only things that can never be taken from me. It’s embedded into generations from long before my time. It’s okay that you don’t understand it, I’m not allowed to speak it to you anyway. Lest you call me uneducated, illiterate, or unprofessional. I must censor myself, brush it under the tongue. That is until you make me angry. Then everybody and they momma gon’ know you got the wrong one. Try me if you want to. I was raised on, “Do I look like Boo Boo the fool?” and “Stop crying ‘fore I give you something to cry about.” And that’s word to my momma. What’s in a word? I see your eyes widen when the African American Vernacular comes bursting out. So foreign to you it sound like a Voodoo spell. Yeah, this how I really be wanting to talk. Fix ya face. I cannot be Afrocentric and Eurocentric at the same time. I do not have the Freedom of Speech if the way I speak determines my intellectual capabilities. I must always accommodate a society that refuses to accommodate me. But you knows what? I’ve gotten real good at talking “white.” But every once in a while, if you listen- I mean real, real good. You can still hear that one crooked letter. The black cracking through like a toothless grin. Yeah. That’s my great granddaddy saying, “Say it with your chest girl.” So if you hear me talking loud it’s cuz I’m finna say something real important. And when I speak, you better listen.

-jamera naquai, CROOKED LETTER

[krakenartificer]

This is... okay this is an insane message for me to send so I do apologize, but! The 'd' in 'djbouti' is so that readers don't try to make the 'j' into a 'zh', which is extremely common as a mispronunciation in English and French. The 'd' is "silent" but it gives readers an idea of where to place their tongue when starting the 'j', since English uses 'j' to represent multiple sounds. In this way it is similar to 'h' in Spanish! Okay, sorry for thebither. Have a lovely day!

No no, tasty knowledge nuggets are always appreciated, especially linguistic ones!

Yeah, I was thinking about this the other day while I was looking at lists of words with silent letters. Like, English orthography is a mess -- no one can dispute that -- but it's not as much of a mess as some of these lists are implying. Yes, there are exceptions to every rule, and some things you just straight-up have to memorize (sugar, my darling, what are you doing??), but actually most of the weird exceptions are things you've learned by the time you're 12, and all the harder words are pretty straightforward (if you know phonics).

Like, yes, the e in cane is silent in the sense that it's not pronounced ca-nee, but it definitely affects pronunciation (as explained most entertainingly by our good friend Tom Lehrer [x]). And once you know how to pronounce ph, tion, and how e affects the vowels ahead of it (and why you therefore need two fs in affect to stop the e from doing that) ... you can go a long ways on sight-reading English, even when -- as you say -- we're using d to harden a j even though that's not a "real rule".

One thing I wish I'd learned way earlier is that some of our "silent letters" are there to help you understand how words are related -- like the c in muscle, which isn't really doing anything, is there so you know it's related to muscular, where the c is very relevant. I can spell bureaucracy correctly on the first try every time now, now that I realize it's spelled that way because it's related to bureau. And even pterodactyl makes some amount of sense when you realize that the spelling wants you to know that it's related to orthopter, lepidopter, and helicopter.

Anyway, thanks for helping me pronounce Djbouti correctly!

[vaya-writes]

Serving the Serpent - 5

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her. 

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 2500 words. Content warnings for this chapter: references to the cult-like elements of Briar's upbringing. Divider from firefly-graphics

Briar participates in Discourse for the first time.

Previous - Masterlist

The following afternoon, Briar is starting to regret her carefree comment. Learning to read is one thing. Staying seated in Lockwood’s office, trying her best not to hunch over the table, fingers pressed a little too tightly around a piece of chalk, is another. Because learning to read, means learning to write. And learning to write means the dark elf taking the time out of his day to point out letters and pronounce them.  

He’s patient. She’ll give him that. Pointing to each letter before and after she copies it, fingers cramping. He pronounces each sound slowly, then regularly. Gives an example word that the sound is in. Watches for Briar to nod her understanding.  

His face is nearly as blank as the slate she writes on. The only time irritation had flickered across his features was when he pronounced the first letter. He’d waited a beat, before she realised she was expected to copy the sound. She’d opened her mouth. Hesitated. And dropped her eyes in shame when nothing more than a stuttered breath came out.  

To Lockwood’s credit, he’d recovered quickly. Had adjusted the cadence of his lesson, and nothing else, no longer pausing for her to speak. Just waiting for her shows of attention and occasional nods. No further frustration shows on his features. But it doesn’t stop Briar from feeling intimidated. 

That night she lies awake in bed. It’s only when the room is silent, when she’s certain that everyone is either asleep or about to be when she’s able to vocalise. Fragments of sound, not complete words, as she tries her best to remember how Lockwood had spoken, and mimic each phonic. 

Somebody nearby stirs and she’s startled back into silence. She pulls her pillow over her head and sighs. Perhaps she could find some other time alone to practice. Or perhaps just mouthing the sounds would be enough.   

Despite the disadvantage, Briar wakes determined to see the day through, and learn as much as she can during her next lesson. She picks up breakfast on the way to the third floor, where she meets Emilie and assists her with the usual cleaning. The lizard chats as she works, going from room to room to strip the beds and clean the private bathrooms.  

She’s tense in anticipation of entering the lord’s chambers, but finds them empty. Arol’s too. She doesn’t think much of it until lunch time, when she parts ways with Emilie to meet with Cook. Isen and Arol’s meals are absent from the trolley. Part of her regards the change with curiosity.  

“Lockwood stopped by. He said you’re to skip your lesson with Lord Isen today, and to meet in his office early. I’ll have your lunch delivered there.” 

Briar blinks. Tilts her head to inquire why, but Cook misses the gesture as he turns back to work. Once he’s out of earshot, Briar lets the huff escape from her chest. Carries on with the rest of her duties, delivering the noble’s meals. 

Dinah is busy as per usual, buried in paper and parchment, sorting with deadly speed and precision. Her eyes flick up as Briar enters, and she inclines her chin a little as the woman places her tray on the desk corner.  

Briar finds herself faltering as she stops outside the newly occupied offices. She’d been avoiding the newcomers to the castle like the plague. The coral pink naga has a way of leering at her that makes her uncomfortable. And the scaled woman – Briar's not yet sure what she is – has an unwavering gaze; sharp and deadly. It raises the hair on the back of her neck, and has her struggling not to turn tail.  

When her job is done she waves down Emilie, fortunate enough to catch her as she returns from a break. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Briar shakes her head. Points to herself and then towards the stairs. She usually collects the floor’s dishes after her meal with Isen, but wouldn’t have the chance today. 

“You need to go?” 

Briar nods. Then points to her trolley. 

Emilie raises her scaled brows. “You want me to clean up after lunch?” 

She nods. ‘Please.’ 

Emilie hums and hars for a moment, before relaxing with a smile. “I guess I can do that. But you’ll owe me.”  

Briar gives a relieved smile. ‘Thank you so much.’ She even curtsies on the spot to show her gratitude, exaggerated and low. 

Her work taken care of, Briar hurries off to her next stop. 

When she arrives in the dimly lit office, Lockwood isn’t alone. She stiffens immediately in the doorway, eyeing Lord Isen and a lizard newcomer with apprehension.  

Isen smiles at her, gesturing for her to enter. “You’re right on time. We can start as soon as you’ve eaten.” 

Briar tries not to clip her motions, but she can’t help but be unnerved by the additional pair of eyes. ‘Start what, my lord?’ 

Isen gestures to the stranger. “This is Berron. He’s one of my translators. He’s going to teach us to sign your letters.” 

Briar didn’t realise it was possible to go tauter, but she does. It’s been... months, since she’d spoken to anyone fluent in Sign. She thought she be lost in silence forever when Stella died. 

She tries not to gape at Berron, who in turn tries to keep his appraisal light. 

There’s a silence in the room. It seems as if Lockwood and Isen await her reaction. She supposes the breach in etiquette might be warranted this once. Hesitant, she speaks to the lizard.  

‘You speak Sign?’ 

Berron gives an apologetic smile. “Just the basics, I’m afraid. I’m more fluent in the Serpentine dialect. But I can sign the common letters. They’re what you’re learning, yes?” His Common is nearly unaccented, and he gestures a sign occasionally as he speaks.  

He’s not fluent. But hope begins to bloom in her chest. ‘Do you-’ she hesitates. ‘Do you know how to say this?’ She adds a gesture. 

He winces. “No, sorry. What is it?” 

“Her name,” says Isen, who watches the interaction closely. “We still don’t know it.” 

“Ah,” the lizard frowns. “Well, with any luck, soon you’ll be able to spell it!” 

“Or write it,” murmurs Lockwood, who pulls out the chair at his side table. “Shall we begin?” 

Isen stays for the lesson. Practices signing letters as Berron instructs, and Lockwood sounds them out for Briar. She feels a little ridiculous, having a team of three trying to teach her literacy. She reassures herself that Isen is at least having his signing lesson, learning some greetings from his translator.  

All in all, it’s a learning experience for everyone in the room. Even Lockwood appears engaged for the next two hours. Before long he’s signing and pronouncing letters at the same time, before Briar dutifully copies him and writes them down. 

The novelty fades before the week passes. Isen participates long enough to learn how to sign his letters. Once Briar has passing knowledge of the signed alphabet, Berron finishes his tutoring. And her days go back to normal.  

She cleans in the mornings. Serves third floor meals at lunch and dinner. Takes her midday meal with Isen, where he insists she teach him Sign when he’s not busy with paperwork (he’s always busy, but he makes time). Starts learning how to string letters together, and what sounds they make. Gets used to writing with chalk. Then with a pen. And rinses off at the end of the day before trudging down to the common room for a fitful sleep.  

Her nightmares persist. They’re not as frequent, but are no less harrowing. And without a full night of rest, her days are draining. She’s not sure if it’s the inconsistent schedule, or the strange array of work she’s been given, but she feels busy. Like if she were just a cleaner, or if she just served meals things would be simpler.  

She wishes she could talk to Lockwood. To ask him to assign her a permanent position already. But he’s already doing so much for her. Putting aside an hour of his time every day to sit with her while she writes, and her lips form the shapes of letters– if silently. Besides, it’s not like she would be able to make herself understood.  

Still. Objectively, her life has improved. She knows her way around. Is getting used to the minutia of things. She’s still intimidated by Isen’s circle. Pryden and Fern scare her the most, but they’re rarely at the castle. She doesn’t know what they do for Isen, but whatever it is, it’s done elsewhere. 

Whatever they report back to Isen, it keeps him busy. The next time they return, Briar finds Isen awash in paperwork. Enough so that he doesn’t have time for their lunch lessons, only brief reprieves to eat. 

‘You still haven’t replaced Amos?’ 

He frowns. “I haven’t hired a new aide yet, no.” 

‘What are you waiting for?’ 

He squints. “Pardon?” 

She rewords her query. ‘Why not?’ 

Understanding spreads across his features, and he shrugs, turning back to his food. “It’ll take time to train a replacement. Unless you think I should hire somebody not qualified?” His tone turns teasing at the end. 

Briar resists the urge to roll her eyes. Gives an impassive shrug, before continuing her meal.  

Isen leans back in his chair, watching Briar with an unusual interest. “What would you do in my place?” 

It takes her a moment to realise it’s not a rhetorical question. She pauses midbite when she does. Points at herself as if to say, ‘you’re asking me?’ 

“Sure. I want your opinion.” 

She lets her features contort this time. ‘Why?’ 

He crosses his arms. “Humour me.” 

She takes a moment to think. Spends most of it composing herself, and smoothing her expression once more. ‘What type of assistant do you want?’ 

He tilts his head. “What do I want?” 

She points towards Amos’ old room. Signs ‘assistant’.  

“What kind of aide do I want?” 

Nod. 

He shrugs. “Somebody diligent. With initiative. Thoughtful. Around when I need them. On top of things like my schedule.” 

She nearly rolls her eyes again. Restrains her sigh. ‘Then hire a cleaner. What do you want your aide to know?’ 

“Do you mean their qualifications?” 

She gives an emphatic nod. 

“Oh. Well, nothing fancy. They don’t need to be a graduate of anything, I can train them myself. But they’ll need basic literacy and numeracy skills.” 

Part of her sours at the last comment. ‘And are there any schools in the Lowlands?’ 

“Is there what where?” 

‘School. A place of learning. A place of knowledge. Place. Know,’ she gestures until Isen catches her meaning.  

“A school? Here?” He pauses for a moment, speaking as an aside, “Show me that again-” copying her gesture, before, “No. We tried once, but people didn’t show up.” 

Again, she wants to roll her eyes. This time, he does wrangle a reaction out of her, and she has to take a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. When she looks back up at him, ready to start again, he’s grinning. 

“You’re cute when you get exasperated.” 

She narrows her eyes. Emphatically picks up her now empty plate and takes it to her trolley.  

“Stop, I’m sorry. You weren’t finished speaking.” 

She puts her chair away before stopping in front of his desk. Reigns in her annoyance. Makes herself the picture of a perfect servant. 

‘I would go to the city. It’d be easier to find an aide there.’ 

Isen grins. “You remind me of Arol, you know?” 

She can’t identify his tone. Quirks her brow, lets herself get sucked in to the question.  

“Polite to a fault.” 

She blinks. Hyperaware of how he watches her reaction.  

Briar laces her hands in front of her. Bites down on her lip. She knows he’s goading her. Knows he just wants a reaction. She takes a deep breath. Is about to turn and leave before- 

‘-and you’re ignorant.’ 

He tilts his head. (When she reflects back on this encounter, she’ll be thankful beyond belief that she hadn’t taught him that word yet.) Then he waits, expectant for her to continue. 

‘Why should a parent send their child to school?’ 

He takes a moment to process, understanding he’s being questioned, before giving an apologetic wince. “I don’t follow.” 

‘Why did you go to school?’  

“To learn?” 

‘Why?’ 

He shakes his head. “Uh- it was expected?’ 

‘Why?’ 

“So I could learn to read and-” 

‘Sure. Why?’ 

“My father wanted me-” 

She cuts him off with the shake of her head. ‘Why?’ 

He crosses his arms again, defensive. “It’s what I was meant to do.” 

She pauses. Uses the hiatus to hammer in her point before signing again. ‘Why should I go to school?’ 

He’s quiet for a moment. “Did your parents want-” 

She shakes her head. 

He takes another few seconds. “It’s not expected?” 

No. Again.  

“So you can read and write?” 

‘Okay. Why?’ 

“Why what?” 

‘Why should I read and write?’ 

He frowns, like it should be obvious. “So you can get a better job. So you can get paid. To help you communicate.” 

She shakes her head at each answer. ‘Women cook. Women clean. I was meant to cook and clean. Why should I go to school?’ 

He grits his teeth, confused by the roundabout conversation. It’s the first time she’s seen him visibly frustrated. “Because I want you to be my assistant.” 

The statement is enough to halt her tirade.  

They’re both silent for a moment. Isen, biting his lip, regretting his outburst. Clearly it was something he’d meant to keep to himself. Briar, compartmentalising. Trying to process that information at record speed, wondering if it’s worth dropping her point.  

It’s not. She’s nearly finished. 

After the extended pause, she straightens. Points out the window, towards the peasants in the lowlands, to make her point. ‘Why should they go to school?’ 

Isen takes a moment. Then another. Then his shoulders slump – just barely. “You’re saying they have no reason to come to school?” 

She nods.  

“Oh.” 

He doesn’t look at her, frowning down at his plate, seeming to digest the knowledge. His thoughts have changed direction.  

Eventually he notices Briar, expectant.  

“Yes?” 

‘You want to make me your assistant?’ 

He purses his lips. It looks like he hadn’t planned to tell her for a while. “Eventually. Yes.” 

She stares him down. Lets him stew in the scrutiny until Isen is the one to drop his eyes, experiencing shame, or perhaps guilt, but not quite sure why. 

She waits until he looks at her again to sign her goodbye.  

‘I can’t count either.’ 

Next