#Promethean Horror

[soysaucevictim]

I decided to be Silly and drew all four of my Remuses with a similar pose (3/4 of them are from a horror AU).

Don't know if I'll revisit this with more polish but, yeah, take it. :,D

[enddaysengine]

Sketch of a horrible little cigarette spirit I did the other day. While it is in no way polished, it is one of my favourite recents, not in the least because it went from idea to art in under an hour.

[enddaysart]

Cigarette Spirit

Been working on this little dork for a bit. Not nice, not fun, not something you want to meet in a dark alley, but its oh so very friendly.

Instagram Patreon Writing and RPG Tumblr: @enddaysengine

[bump-1n-the-night]

What Dark Creature are You?

[blueheartbookclub]

"Resurrecting Prometheus: Mary Shelley's Haunting Masterpiece, Frankenstein"

Mary W. Shelley's "Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus" stands as an immortal testament to the enduring power of gothic literature and its exploration of the human condition. In this haunting tale of scientific ambition gone awry, Shelley weaves a narrative that transcends time, challenging our notions of morality, creation, and the pursuit of knowledge.

Victor Frankenstein's reckless quest to defy the boundaries of life and death results in the birth of a creature both wretched and sublime. Shelley's evocative prose takes us on a journey through the icy landscapes of the Arctic and the darkest recesses of the human soul. The novel's layered narrative, framed within the letters of an ambitious explorer, adds depth to the overarching tragedy, creating a sense of impending doom.

As the creature grapples with his identity, rejected by society and his own creator, Shelley compels us to confront themes of isolation, prejudice, and the consequences of playing god. The moral ambiguity of Victor Frankenstein and the sympathetic portrayal of his creature blur the lines between good and evil, challenging readers to ponder the ethical implications of scientific innovation.

"Frankenstein" is more than a cautionary tale about the dangers of scientific hubris; it is a profound exploration of the consequences of unchecked ambition and the responsibility that comes with creation. Shelley's narrative mastery, coupled with her intellectual depth, makes this novel a timeless classic that continues to resonate with readers, inviting them to ponder the boundaries of human knowledge and the price of playing with the forces of life and death.

"Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus" by Mary W. Shelley is available in Amazon in paperback 12.99$ and hardcover 20.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 266

Language: English

Rating: 10/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[anthropoetics]

readings: essays & articles

reassuring ghosts and haunted houses

fish recorded singing dawn chorus on reefs just like birds

what people around the world dream about

poet and philosopher david whyte on anger, forgiveness, and what maturity really means

oranges are orange, salmon are salmon

how memories persist where bodies and even brains do not

the avant-garde musical legacy of the moomins

the weight of our living: on hope, fire escapes, and visible desperation

disturbed minds and disruptive bodies

what is better ー a happy life or a meaningful one?

after my dad died, i started sending him emails. months later, someone wrote me back

on the igbo art of storytelling

what the caves are trying to tell us

promethean beasts — how animal uses of fire help illuminate human pyrocognition

the art of loving and losing female friends

on memorizing poetry

the ecological imagination of hayao miyazaki

reading in the age of constant distraction

holly warburton illustrates tender moments of love and light

romancing the fig: what one fruit can tell us about love, life and human civilization

mystery and birds: 5 ways to practice poetry

can a plant remember? this one seems to — here's the evidence

why female cannibals frighten and fascinate

when you give a tree an email adress

fear not — horror movies build community and emotional resilience

[blueheartbooks]

"Resurrecting Prometheus: Mary Shelley's Haunting Masterpiece, Frankenstein"

Mary W. Shelley's "Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus" stands as an immortal testament to the enduring power of gothic literature and its exploration of the human condition. In this haunting tale of scientific ambition gone awry, Shelley weaves a narrative that transcends time, challenging our notions of morality, creation, and the pursuit of knowledge.

Victor Frankenstein's reckless quest to defy the boundaries of life and death results in the birth of a creature both wretched and sublime. Shelley's evocative prose takes us on a journey through the icy landscapes of the Arctic and the darkest recesses of the human soul. The novel's layered narrative, framed within the letters of an ambitious explorer, adds depth to the overarching tragedy, creating a sense of impending doom.

As the creature grapples with his identity, rejected by society and his own creator, Shelley compels us to confront themes of isolation, prejudice, and the consequences of playing god. The moral ambiguity of Victor Frankenstein and the sympathetic portrayal of his creature blur the lines between good and evil, challenging readers to ponder the ethical implications of scientific innovation.

"Frankenstein" is more than a cautionary tale about the dangers of scientific hubris; it is a profound exploration of the consequences of unchecked ambition and the responsibility that comes with creation. Shelley's narrative mastery, coupled with her intellectual depth, makes this novel a timeless classic that continues to resonate with readers, inviting them to ponder the boundaries of human knowledge and the price of playing with the forces of life and death.

"Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus" by Mary W. Shelley is available in Amazon in paperback 12.99$ and hardcover 20.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 266

Language: English

Rating: 10/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[soysaucevictim]

Just thinking abt the Promethean!Twins.

Roman's a Muse/Galateid and Remus is a Wretched/Frankenstein, yeah?

Muses have an uncanny valley effect w/ their beauty and charm. Roman often leans into transmutations of the Deception variety (alongside Pat, another Muse, and Jan, a Hollow/Extempore.)

Quothe the Wiki:

It covers supernatural means of confusing or evading opponents, from changing one’s skin color to altering one’s facial features. Deception Transmutations are most commonly practiced by Mimics, who learn them easily as one of the classes taught on the Refinement of Gold; they use the Transmutations to better blend in with humanity.

The Wretched immediately provokes a sense of fear and anger in people. He doesn't have much aptitude in Deception, but he does have Metamorphosis, which he gleefully uses to freak people tf out.

It covers the transformation of the body into new shapes, from sprouting claws or fangs to creating a homunculus. It allows a Promethean to reshape their own body, stretching limbs or transforming their flesh into unnatural forms. It is used by those who follow or once followed the Cuprum Refinement.

Basically shape-changing is more illusory with Roman. It's extremely visceral with Remus~

[quinnred]

Halo 4 Reimagining - Perdition Visual concept for the Perditions, a reimagining of the Prometheans of Halo 4 based me and my brother's thought exercises.

The artificial Forerunner world of Requiem was a paradise to be enjoyed at leisure, an entirely modular geography and biosphere allowing it's three managerial AIs to please it's creators. Upon the true horrors of the Flood coming to light, Requiem's purpose was changed to one of experimentation. The managerial AIs were given the goal of discovering and exploring strategies that may make their creators immune or unappealing to the parasitic scourge. They were given near complete reign over any and all Forerunner's within Requiem and were locked within their shield world until their masters returned. The boldest and potentially successful operation was Perdition, a project involving a hybrid of sentinel robotics and engineer nanotechnology to create replacement bodies for subject Forerunners. Volunteers were not even considered, with random selection of the civilian populous for conversion. The process involved gradual cell-by-cell replacement of subject body matter with engineer materials, the sentinel mechanics acting as the exo and endoskeleton of the body and protected vital parts. Perdition subjects would be homed in the pleasure facility Idyll Halja, where the Trinity supplied them a glut of stimuli to occupy these immortals for millennia under observation. This only entertained a few hundred years, their technological processing information far faster than their original human bodies. What followed was an eternity of boredom and eventual madness, with suicide in these regenerating forms and true reproduction being impossible. The Perditions would devolve and shift culturally as they tore each other apart and remade themselves, bastardizing their forms into ghostly gravity manipulating monstrosities. Unable to develop into the Meta-Stability stage of their rampancy due to their confines, the Perditions had been tunneling into and hacking Idyll Halja in attempts to breakout into the rest of Requiem. The Trinity AIs were forced to quarantine Idyll Halja deep into the bowels of Requiem and have been in constant digital warfare with their experiments. The Perdition's aggression has been so overwhelming that many other managerial duties of the Trinity have been shunned. Lord help any who may find their way into the Perdition's den.

[runin64]

Sa'kan's Priest

So I just had to write this after I found out that the Salamanders had this special chapter serf who is known as a brander-priest, who marks the Salamander whenever he leaves, and when he returns. And as Sa'kan has like no stories writing about him.. I had to! Cw: mentions of branding, otherwise fluff (I hope) You never regretted choosing to stay with the Salamanders after your lord saved you, he pulled you from your dying world surrounded by fire and death. And he gave you a new life, sure it was not easy at first, so many new things to learn nevertheless you shall also not regret becoming his brander-priest. Even now knowing exactly what horrors he faced whenever he leaves with his chapter and brothers. You much rather be able to give the respite of coming back - to someone he can be sure is here.

As you prepare the camber, you think back to what your angel has told you of the past mission he went to. How many were lost and yet he still made it out alive, vile beasts he and his brothers fight to keep the rest of you safe. You watch as the flames flare around the hot iron, nearly ready to place another brand. You turn as you hear the door open and your Lord enters, Sa’kan will leave soon. Not yet clad in his armor, he reaches out to you with his fingers brushing the side of your head. “Already a place in mind for this one?” He asks, his voice as soft as the touch he gave to you. “I thought to put it between your shoulder blades, to guard your back.” He gave you a small smile, nodded and turned to stand before the heating metal. “It is nearly time” The words of the Promethean Cult now fall easily from your lips, as you lift the now glowing branding tool leaving its mark on your Salamanders skin. It slots in perfectly next to all his others, never overlapping, never the same. No sound leaves Sa’kan’s lips as the flesh beneath the metal smolders, as you lift it away and say the protective words your lips touch the burned area. Your Salamander takes a deep breath, while you continue the rights knowing of their importance. In the newfound silence Sa’kan turns to you, once more his hand lifts brushing against your temple. You know what he means with no words spoken, he will return if he is able to. As you watch him leave you know that it may be the time you see him alive, but when he does return he shall tell you what happened as you place his return mark on his chest. And after, he may celebrate the victory with you in private. Off he goes, into the fires of battle, unto the anvil of war. You pray that he will return from Paradyce fast and whole again..

[thestuffedalligator]

Graft is fun. I like a few of the suggestions in the notes that have a similar energy as graft like “patchwork” from Girl Genius or “stitched” from Twig. Like the main thing that distinguishes a Frankenstein’s monster from your average reanimated corpse is the cobbledness. The stitches. The proof of being made.

There should be a new name for Frankenstein’s monsters as a species. I love Frankenstein’s monsters, I love mismatched flesh tones and visible stitches, but I can’t keep calling them Frankenstein’s monsters because A) most of them aren’t made by Frankensteins, and B) it’s a fucking mouthful every time. We need a generic no name brand Frankenstein’s monster.

[victorsandvanquishers]

The Unchained Promethean Heart

Fandom: DC Comics

Ships: Bart Allen/Kon El

Ratings: M

Warnings: cosmic horror, mental illness on 9000, Fourth World fuckery, love between a god and his mortal clonebabe, Metron cameos, the Linear Men are here, somebody's going to jail, gay people rearranging reality to their liking

Summary: As Bart and Kon embark on their new life together in Manchester, Alabama, Bart reminisces on his forced institutionalization and the ten million crimes against reality that got him to this point. What’s a case of anxiety-fueled unreality compared to the bright future ahead of them? Not a damn thing. After all, everything's fair game when you're a multiversal anomaly like Bart and Kon.

[post-House of Brainiac; bastardizes Simon Spurrier's The Flash; direct sequel to 'The Deification of One Bartholomew Henry Allen II' & 'In Dreams Until My Death, I Will Wander On'; written for 2024 BartKon Week (Heart & Bones Edition), Day 7 - People of Manchester, Alabama + Nightmares]

~~~

This was probably my most unhinged fic for the week. I figured since it was the last day, it was either go big or go home.

This fic heavily dissects the happenings of Young Justice #16, by Brian Michael Bendis. It will make more sense if you reread it. Feel free to also look up Jack Kirby's Fourth World concepts, as the story also incorporates a lot of his sci-fi horror. :'>

Hope y'all enjoyed 2024 BartKon Week! Thank you for celebrating with me, and don't forget to leave a review! ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

[aen-hen-ichaer]

just saw romulus im so so normal about it NO IM NOT. GOD IM NOT IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE GAAAUUGH

my thoughts + spoilers under the cut :3

• giger would be so proud of this film. so yonic. so phallic. my god. Every vagina shaped thing gave way to the most sinister form of life. Every penis shaped thing was violently penetrating. Super duper leans into the original underlying themes of SA. got under my skin like crazy

• this film combined all my favourite elements of alien (slow burn immersive horror), aliens (great action) and resurrection (human/xeno hybrid) I literally cannot fault it at all

•the offspring (babymorph as me and my bf dubbed it) BAD BAD SO BAD THROWING UP IN MY MOUTH I was legit shaking and had tears in my eyes I have never been so close to screaming in a cinema. 1000/10 creature design. I knew something horrific and fucked up was gonna happen after the pregnancy reveal but JESUS

• Andy's actor was AMAZZINNNGG. The way he played "regular" Andy vs "evil fuckass weyland-yutani synth" was seamless and perfect and he was my fav character

• Ian Holm's cameo felt...... weird. I generally don't like dead actors being reanimated in cgi anyway even with the consent of the family yadda yadda but... blegh. The cgi felt a little dodgy on his face as well but tbh the glitchy jilted nature of it really added to him being a damaged synth LOL

• references were v cute. might be ott to some but I liked it

•PRACTICAL EFFECTS MY BELOVED. BIG SCARY ASS PUPPETS MY BELOVED. GOO AND SLIME MY BELOVED

• the whole birth scene shook me to my coooorrree. As someone who wants to be pregnant and give birth nothing has gotten so under my skin like that before. The ides of doing your best to nurture what will be your child only for this fucking horror to come out of you.... oh my god......... AND LACTATING THE GOO?? ARE YOU FR????????

• mostly smart characters in this movie which I appreciate! the whole zero g acid blood vortex scene was very funsies

• great score. Calls back to the original but not too much

• PERFECT set design. Felt like watching alien isolation as a movie

• I love that they went back to a more analog clicky buttons/flicky switches aesthetic, the holograms and touchscreens of prometheus and covenant never felt right

• the black goo as an almost intelligent substance is so so fun. It "speeds up evolution" but it's smart enough not to destroy its host outright. The offspring was gestated in an egg sac containing fucking acid BUT it didn't hurt kay (until she birthed it and it no longer needed her)

• also the offspring not growing its xeno tail until it consumed the last of the goo from kay? Very nice touch

• JUST. PREGNANCY AS A GROUNDWORK FOR HORROR. SO UNDERUTILISED. SO EFFECTIVE.

• this films chest burster scene... dare I say....scarier than the original. Watching her ribs crack with the xray machine.... YUCKY

• me and my bf has settled to calling the black goo Promethean Fire. This isn't part of the review I just like that hehe

• when I heard the name Romulus I mentioned to my bf about Romulus and Remus being raised by wolves and I was like "what if this is the start of the crossbreeds like in resurrection?" AND I WAS FUCKING RIGHT BITCH!!!!!!!!!!

•Sound design was excellent, the thumping huge heavy footprints of the xeno felt sososososososo good with the cinema surround sound auugghhg

ANYWAY I FUCKING LOVED THIS MOVIE. If u wanna share any thoughts pls do in insane about this :)

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

stumpy i like receiving damage from your writing so i will submit "things you said when the world was ending"

“Captain Lasky to all hands! Battle stations! This is not a drill!”

Alarms blare and emergency lights flash. The room is doused in red and the sirens wail like banshees. He drops his datapad and looks at the ceiling in horror before his coworkers' cries snap his attention back into focus. Something terrible was happening and there was no time to stand around and wait for the news to reach them.

Voices yelling in the hallways turn to screams and he ducks down behind the desk with his teammates. Clanking metal, flaring like flames walks into the room before exploding into a burst of cinders as gunfire erupts behind it. Yells echo again, this time orders to move.

This was supposed to be a safe contract. The Infinity had an army onboard! and Spartans!

But now things out of his nightmares were teleporting onto the ship! At least the aliens boarded via the hangars, but this new hell had Esparza scared out of his mind. He followed a handful of others being hustled from the crew quarters towards any place with armed comrades. They were sitting ducks otherwise.

Marines corral the unarmed crew members to whatever passed for safety as their flying fortress is boarded by machines that can ghost past their defenses. Esparza follows them to parts of the ship he's never seen before. He usually stayed in engineering and his brain is in overdrive as adrenaline floods his system.

His eyes see nothing and everything, fixating on the way the doors are too big and the way his brain cannot remember which hallway they took to get here. Blurred vision and detailed memories mix in his mind as his heart beats rabbit-quick.

They're hustled quickly into some kind of communications room. A holotable sits with it's display updating in real time as ships approach the Infinity. The marines nod to a Spartan and then turn back to the hallway, already moving towards their next objective.

A Spartan. A real Spartan, kitted out in the legendary armor, is in the room with them. He can't help the nervous exhale as his nerves calm and his shoulders drop a fraction of a millimeter from around his shoulders.

The Spartan is focused, eyes glued to the multiple screens at his station. He offered them a nod as the contractors had been shepherded in and dropped off like lost sheep.

Esparza watches him in lieu of watching the door or straining his ears to hear the not-so-distant sounds of battle.

“Roland, sitrep on our invaders.” The Spartan asks.

“Prometheans appearing all over the ship. No means to stop them at the moment.”

The Spartan takes the info in stride and shifts to the teams under his command. He radios pilots and Spartan Fireteams and reacts faster to this mess than Esparza can even respond. Things might be okay, his brain traitorously thinks too early.

God or Roland must hear him because then a warning comes across the live feed. “Spartan Miller, you’ve got Prometheans near Ops command!”

Esparza's heart stutters and someone next to him grabs at him. There's a flutter of nervous gasps as their Spartan, Spartan Miller simply nods and keeps working.

“Acknowledged, Roland. I’ve got my sidearm in hand.” He does. It looks like a toy in his hand.

Esparza wants to laugh. It's such a funny gun for a Spartan to have. He's seen the super soldiers from a distance. Larger than life, looking like automatons. He's seen more marines and helljumpers up close, and they had rifles that could take down the killer robots faster than the sidearm could.

Spartan Miller turns to the civilians huddled in the corner and walks towards them. His brow unfurrows and his face softens enough to look almost sheepish as he gestures for them to move to the other side of the holotable and further away from the door.

Esparza studies him. Miller is younger than he thought. Seeing him this close, without a helmet, reminds him of people he's lost, of what he's seen. The manic fear sours into a deeper grief and near-acceptance about what's coming.

Their eyes meet and Miller's face hardens again, back to business, but he watches Esparza.

Something explodes onscreen behind him and the civilians flinch. Miller looks over his shoulder and smiles. "That's Crimson for you, they're on their way home to help us clean up this mess."

Esparza feels his face shift into something incredulous as helmet cams show a battle that looks more like a light-show than what he's seen. Miller catches him and the smile broadens. "They're some of our best." He gets serious again and holds up the sidearm Esparza was judging earlier. "This is the M6H, it takes a few rounds to get through Promethean shielding, but after that they pop easy. Anything tries to come through that door isn't getting further than me."

Esparza finds himself nodding. He joins his fellows and braces for whatever comes next.

“Murphy?” Miller touches the comm device in his ear and nods back at Esparza. Whatever intel he gets must be good, or maybe he's being brave because he smiles at him again. It seems real enough that Esparza's stomach stops doing flips.

The Spartans are here. Maybe things would be okay.

[chameleonspell]

HTDC commentary - 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

[Looking back at HTDC after nearly ten years: comments on lore, character notes, influences, art, whatever. May contain spoilers for later chapters.]

chapter text: 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

I hope no one was expecting a line-by line complex exegesis of chapter 17, because I generated a wall of TEXTSLOP. It was never intended to mean anything specific, although I did edit it selectively, for poetry and interest. I didn't really expect anyone to read it, I just wanted them to open the chapter and go "what the fuck is this shit??"

I think I used this page to generate it, which must be twenty years old, at the absolute minimum, and the code is from the 1990s. It's beyond irritating that Markov chain text generators, along with other venerable methods of cut-up and creative mixology, are probably now tarred with the same brush as bullshit like chatGPT. Anyway, you could call it a Small Language Model, in that it only uses the text you put into it, doesn't steal it to do plagiarism, and doesn't require the energy and water usage of a small country to run.

I... had totally forgotten which texts I put into it, and had to spend way too long cross-checking fragments. All I remembered was that the nonsense-title of the chapter was taken from the title-letters of the input books, and it was supposed to be things Iriel had recently encountered, to represent a chaotic vomiting of his subconscious.

I think it's this:

V = 36 Lessons of Vivec

C = Chimarvamidium

D = The Book of Dawn and Dusk

R = A Less Rude Song

K = The Ruins of Kemel-Ze

A = Song of the Alchemists

A = Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi

...but I'm pretty sure there's also Special Flora of Tamriel there, in an uncredited role. I don't think that, or Song of the Alchemists is mentioned as something Iriel reads in-fic, but since Ire's an alchemist, I shovelled them into the word-hopper, too. I suspect I never noticed at the time that Song of the Alchemists is not an alchemical textbook, but silly Marobar Sul doggerel, and not exactly something Iriel would read.

Anyway, please do go ahead and cancel me for "writing fic with AI".

Playlist pick: Of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse. For when you really, really need the drugs to work. Or something to work. Anything. It's all just chemicals, right? C'MON, CHEMICALS!

Once we're done with the psychedelic breakdown, we have a temptation scene, specifically, Iriel wakes up in a wizard's bed, and barely resists intellectual seduction by House Telvanni.

The mage laid the book across the bed and opened it, revealing page after page of writing in Dwemer script.

Neither of them can read it yet, but the book is Divine Metaphysics, one of the three books you need to solve Trebonius' Dwemer mystery quest.

He sighed, and turned another page, revealing a complicated diagram of… Iriel wasn’t sure, but he was interested enough to sit up fully, and examine it. “Chimarvamidium,” he said, eventually.

Iriel is reacting to the diagram in the book of an anthropoid Dwemer construct, a theme that also occurs in Chimarvamidium. The picture under his nose is almost certainly Numidium, something he should be at least theoretically aware of. Tiber Septim used it to conquer Summerset in the Second Era, within living memory of older Altmer, and if Ire wasn't concentrating in history class, he was fourteen years old at the time of The Warp in The West. Admittedly, the giant robot was stomping about in Daggerfall, by then (so no trying to claim it had any weird effects on Ire's developing psyche!), and perhaps even a Dragon Break was barely a blip on his radar, compared to the horrors of being a teenager in Lillandril. Either way, Ire misses the obvious fact about the picture, and makes a more remote connection, something Baladas takes as evidence of a subtler, more esoteric intellectual approach, when it's actually far more to do with:

“I’m sorry. I think I’m still sssomewhat under the effects of an Imperial fuckton of skooma.

Iriel was previously only ever doing moon sugar. Skooma is much, much stronger, more addictive, and, for a magic-sensitive Altmer, extremely psychoactive and hallucination-inducing. He also drank two bottles, straight. Skooma is a liquid, and can be drunk, but is more commonly smoked (inhaled as a vapour?) through a pipe. I am assuming that smoking is the preferred method because the effects are slow and gentle, whereas drinking it is extremely neither of those things.

Yes, fine, the line about skooma being like "eight hundred orgasms tied to a brick" is an echo of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy description of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster cocktail as being "like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick". NO that is NOT a pop culture reference, that's just me stealing shit, which is totally different okay?

“Was that a Daedroth back there?”

Baladas keep a pet Daedroth. Wait... is it a pet? Are they sentient? Some of them are named, and have relationships to other characters that could imply they were intelligent. But... hmm. Dangerous tangent. Let's assume it's just a pet, yeah?

“It’s adorable! What’s its name?” Ire poked it, giggling in delight as it contracted its metal limbs back into its shell.

Again. Please let the record show that the first time Iriel interacted closely with a non-hostile Dwemer automaton, he was overcome with nothing more lascivious or sinister than childlike glee and wonder. You filthy animals.

Poor little centurion, does your daddy not even care enough to–”

He did indirectly call a Telvanni wizard "daddy", though. I can't really defend him from that one, since I'm pretty sure he knew exactly what he was doing*. And so did Baladas, because he shut that bullshit down FAST.

(* exactly what he was doing = being very silly and no-filter. Iriel is not actually looking to get "mentored" by a much older wizard, even if he could find one more interested in doing it.)

“The miners report that a screaming, semi-transparent Altmer, covered in weeds and soaking wet, broke into the eggmine from the lower levels.

This whole bit is confusing, and I don't like it. It's not funny, and it really doesn't matter about the stupid route Iriel took to end up with the book on Baladas' doorstep. But yes, you can get into the Gnisis eggmine via the riverbed outside town, and from there, into the Dwemer ruin and back. If he knew, Iriel would feel smug about the fact Edwinna would have tried to make him go there, on purpose, later, if she hadn't expelled him by then.

“Auri-El, what did you do to them?” Ire had heard about Telvanni methods.

While he hasn't encountered many Telvanni in Morrowind, he would have read things like this, in which Telvanni mages are notorious for being fans of inventive magical torture.

Iriel knew the score. Baladas Demnevanni was a serious Dwemer scholar, [...] He could make far better use of it than Ire ever would. And yet, something in Iriel resisted.

Iriel does know the score, and part of the score that he knows is: while Baladas is much older and more powerful, he's not technically Iriel's senior. Because Ire's not in House Telvanni, or any other structure that makes him Demnevanni's subordinate. Which Ire leaves free to resist. Sure, Baladas could take the book by magical force, but Iriel has enough pride to want to force him to do that, to not capitulate based purely on academic bluster. (Yes, of course Iriel can have a powerful and resilient scholarly ego, while simultaneously having zero self esteem. You've met academics, right?)

“It’s mine,” he said. “I found it. And I never asked you to take care of me.”

Saying this feels good. It's true: he didn't ask to be taken care of. And Baladas' reasons for doing so are cleanly self-interested, and make perfect sense to Ire. There's no messy pity involved, no need to spare the feelings of someone who thought they were being a good person, when you're too bitter and damaged to be grateful. This whole conversation is, in many ways, Iriel's ideal type of social interaction.

I will give you information about the location of Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell, and in return, you will bring me any more books that you find there.”

The location of known Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell is not, at this point in time, especially secret information, so Baladas is rather getting the better end of this deal. But if he wasn't, he wouldn't be making it, would he?

The only people qualified are my fellow mages, but Telvanni do not co-operate. Anything they found, they would keep for themselves.

His reasoning checks out, though, so Iriel is inclined to trust him. I really did think Ire would take him the other books at some point, and Ire himself intended to at various points, but... in the end, things got complicated. Iriel comes back to Gnisis, but not to Arvs Drelen, and he keeps all his findings to himself.

“Sweet Mara, no. I just want to be left alone to read.”

“You have just spoken the unofficial motto of House Telvanni.

The problem, I suppose, is that Ire is entirely too Telvanni at heart. It was always touch-and-go, as to whether he'd find an excuse to join the House. After all, he's perfect for it... but that's exactly why he resisted.

Iriel knows he's an obsessive, isolationist weirdo, who's probably going to end up alone in a tower, reading esoterically taboo books all day. Surrounded by robots and summoned Daedra, because that's the only level of social contact he's capable of tolerating. He knows all that, he knows exactly the sort of person he is. He just doesn't like that person. And when Telvanni start tempting him to fully embrace weird hermit mage life, he's forcefully reminded of what Telvanni are known for, and how isolating yourself with only Daedra for company makes you lose all contact with pedestrian concepts like "morality", and "not torturing people to death with lightning spells".

Clearly, Ire's being ridiculous to think his own morality is so fragile, but after the day he's had, he's feeling fragile in all sorts of ways, and unwilling to trust his own limits.

each mage seeks only solitude and freedom to continue his or her work.” [...] “Knowledge may be power,” he was declaiming, “but for some of us, it is enough that knowledge is knowledge.

And Ire's right to question the actual content of Baladas' rhetorical  flourishes: freedom to do what? Power to do what? Knowledge of what? Doesn't it matter? The Telvanni answer certainly seems to be "no". But Ire's experiences with education have left him questioning the value of the "knowledge" he obtained. Certainly, if he was supposed to convert it into power, he appears to have missed a crucial step in the process. He's not sure he wants Telvanni instruction, for taking that step.

He stood up, and began to concentrate a sphere of magicka between his hands. “Where should I send you?”

I have a question about teleportation. What are the rules? Guild guides only transport people to other guild halls, but is that restriction due to rules, or ability? UESP says that guides "maintain magical contact with their counterparts in other branches", but I can't find an ingame source for this. If true, that would explain the restriction, but I'm not sure I buy it. It's possible for a guild guide to send you into a guildhall where the "receiving" guild guide is no longer there, for example during this quest. And the mage who sends you to Mournhold in the Tribunal expansion isn't a guild guide, but sends you as a favour, since she's a "powerful mage".

So: my theory is that it's totally possible for a skilled mage to teleport people to other locations without another linked mage "catching" them, but the right location helps. Receiving chambers are magically set up in guildhalls to act as teleportation beacons, and that's the focus, rather than the other guide. This fits with how Divine and Almsivi Intervention work, not to mention Mark and Recall. Guild guides are trained to be specially attuned to these beacons, but any sufficiently powerful Mysticism expert can sling people into them, as Baladas does, here. Really powerful ones might not even need beacons, though I imagine there are exponential risks to the subject, as the location gets more distant and/or unfamiliar.

So, because it's theoretically possible, if difficult, I also think there are strict rules about where guild guides can send people, just like you can't ask the bus driver to take you anywhere you want, even if he technically could. Because teleportation would have to be a highly regulated skill! You can't just send people anywhere, that could cause all sorts of trouble.

As an aside, every guild guide in Morrowind is a beautiful woman. There's something a bit retro air stewardess about that, isn't there? Male game devs thinking women should be in travel service roles, or something? Hmm.

“Um… Ald'ruhn, please. The Mages’ Guild, for preference, but as long as you don’t teleport me inside a wall, I’ll be happy.”

Iriel's not keen to launch into his Queer Coded Villain arc, yet. So despite Baladas' blandishments, it's back to the loving arms of the Mages' Guild, for now.

“I want you to know,” Edwinna was saying, “that this is not about the Dwemer tube.

...Ah. Never mind.

“Whilst you were gone, some disturbing information came to light. When I agreed to mentor you, I was unaware of the crimes for which you were convicted in Cyrodiil. I’m sure you understand why the theft of magical artifacts is not something I can simply ignore.”

I realised something really funny just now, which is that if Edwinna has been digging into Iriel's background check, presumably through a contact at the Arcane University, then she must know Iriel is also supposed to have straight-up murdered one of his professors. But that's not what's bothering her at all!

“In addition, there is the matter of your drug abuse.

I can only assume that when Iriel took a little too long returning with the Dwemer tube, she couldn't resist the temptation to go through his bedroom. In her ensuing freak-out at finding DRUGS, it emerged that no one had ever actually looked into the squirrelly-looking Altmer's claim on application that he'd studied at the Arcane University.

Ire stopped recasting the Paralyze spell on himself

I was determined to try and find creative ways to use Illusion spells, and to some extent, that was the motive for this whole scene.

He had fully expected to burst into tears as soon as he was alone, possibly sooner, but instead, he found himself gripped by a cold fury.

So, I had planned to get Iriel expelled for a while, and originally I, like Iriel himself,  assumed that he would be devastated, because the number of times he's got himself kicked out of magical institutions is ridiculous at this point. But coming right off the conversation with Baladas, that wasn't where his head was at, at all. He was furious, and when a character gives you the gift of an unexpected emotional reaction, you always gotta lean into it, because it's one of my favourite things about writing. Iriel's vitriolic contempt for the Mages' Guild (and Edwinna Elbert in particular) gave him the motivation to do all sorts of fun things later, and really channel that "I'll show those fools at the institute!" energy. Even if he never did join House Telvanni.

At the last minute, he stopped, turned back, and retrieved Vivec’s Sermon 14 from under the bed.

On the one hand, yes, I am making fun of Iriel for considering porn* an essential, but also... not entirely? At the risk of getting too brutally real about mental illness, masturbation can be a key hammer in the mental toolbox, albeit one that tends not to get included on cute little listicles of harm-reduction coping techniques like taking bubble baths or snapping an elastic on your wrist. For people who spend their lives trying to manipulate their brains into staying above the line marked "basic functionality", orgasm can occasionally seem like the brief boost of feel-good chemicals that might kick it over that line. It is, at any rate, cheaper and safer than many alternatives, and while it's not nearly as effective as skooma, at least you don't have to fight smugglers in a cave for it. Or worse, interact with Tsiya.

*Iriel's current opinion of said text. We can make fun of him for this one.

“I’m sorry, Iriel.” Erranil shook her head, primly. “I’m no longer authorised to transport you.

It is the stupidest fucking thing that you don't have to be a member of the Mages Guild to use guild guide transportation, but if you've been expelled from the guild, they put you on a permanent no-fly list! This was often extremely annoying, ingame.

That said, it was funny to be playing the opposite of a "proper" Morrowind character, who ends up head of all the factions, including being Pope of two different religions at once. Iriel, by contrast, got expelled while still Apprentice rank in the Mages, never got past the early ranks in Thieves, and while he got one or two Imperial Cult ranks, he stopped once it wasn't going to get him laid any more.

But yes, I did get Iriel ingame-mechanically-expelled from the Mages' Guild on purpose (possibly by stealing a spoon?). For immersion. Method gamer, y'know.

next: 21: refinement & 22: fragile previous: 13: legs & 14: plan & 15: claws & 16: door

[janiemcpants]

2024 Reading Roundup, Part 2

The rest of the books behind the cut!

Four stars, continued: The House on Abigail Lane by Kealan Patrick Burke (2020) The God of the Woods by Liz Moore (2024) The Dark Between the Trees by Fiona Barnett (2022) An Art Lover’s Guide to Paris and Murder by Dianne Freeman (2024) Helpmeet by Naben Ruthnum (2022) Margaret the First by Danielle Dutton (2016) Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights edited by Patrick Weekes (2020) [reread] Someone You Can Build a Nest In by John Wiswell (2024) Murder Under the Mistletoe by Erica Ruth Neubauer (2023) The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder by David Grann (2023)

Three stars: Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin (2007) She Came Back by Patricia Wentworth (1945) In the Balance by Patricia Wentworth (1941) The Chinese Shawl by Patricia Wentworth (1943) Miss Silver Deals with Death by Patricia Wentworth (1943) The Clock Strikes Twelve by Patricia Wentworth (1944) The Key by Patricia Wentworth (1944) Dark Threat by Patricia Wentworth (1946) Latter End by Patricia Wentworth (1947) Wicked Uncle by Patricia Wentworth (1947) The Case of William Smith by Patricia Wentworth (1948) Miss Silver Comes to Stay by Patricia Wentworth (1949) Through the Wall by Patricia Wentworth (1950) The Ivory Dagger by Patricia Wentworth (1950) The Watersplash by Patricia Wentworth (1951) Vanishing Point by Patricia Wentworth (1953) The Benevent Treasure by Patricia Wentworth (1951) The Alington Inheritance by Patricia Wentworth (1958) The Girl in the Cellar by Patricia Wentworth (1961) Blood from a Stone by Dolores Gordon-Smith (2013) After the Exhibition by Dolores Gordon-Smith (2014) The Chessman by Dolores Gordon-Smith (2015) Heirs of the Body by Carola Dunn (2013) Footsteps in the Dark by Georgette Heyer (1932) Why Shoot a Butler? by Georgette Heyer (1933) The Unfinished Clue by Georgette Heyer (1934) Death in the Stocks by Georgette Heyer (1935) Behold, Here’s Poison by Georgette Heyer (1936) They Found Him Dead by Georgette Heyer (1937) The Ghost Slayers: Thrilling Tales of Occult Detection edited by Mike Ashley (2022) Her Princess at Midnight by Erica Ridley (2023) The Mistress of Bhatia House by Sujata Massey (2023) Guardian of the Horizon by Elizabeth Peters (2004) [reread] The Camelot Caper by Elizabeth Peters (1969) [reread] A River in the Sky by Elizabeth Peters (2010) Silhouette in Scarlet by Elizabeth Peters (1983) [reread] A Brazen Curiosity by Lynn Messina (2018) A Scandalous Deception by Lynn Messina (2018) A Nefarious Engagement by Lynn Messina (2019) A Treacherous Performance by Lynn Messina (2019) A Sinister Establishment by Lynn Messina (2020) Where the Dead Wait by Ally Wilkes (2023) Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng (2023) Midwestern Strange: Hunting Monsters, Martians, and the Weird in Flyover Country by B.J. Hollars (2019) Death on the Sapphire by R.J. Koreto (2016) The Soldier’s Scoundrel by Cat Sebastian (2016) Promethean Horrors: Classic Tales of Mad Science edited by Xavier Aldana Reyes (2019) The Palace Tiger by Barbara Cleverly (2004) A Touch of Jen by Beth Morgan (2021) Go Hunt Me by Kelly deVos (2022) Pursued by the Rake by Mary Lancaster (2020) Abandoned to the Prodigal by Mary Lancaster (2020) Married to the Rogue by Mary Lancaster (2020) Unmasked by Her Lover by Mary Lancaster (2021) The Autumn Bride by Anne Gracie (2012) Beast in View by Margaret Millar (1955) A Gentleman in Search of a Wife by Grace Burrowes (2024) The Conjure-Man Dies by Rudolph Fisher (1932) The Titian Committee by Iain Pears (1991) Still Life by Louise Penny (2005) The Keep by F. Paul Wilson (1981) The Dancing Plague: The Strange, True Story of an Extraordinary Illness by John Waller (2008) The Night Wire: And Other Tales of Weird Media edited by Aaron Worth (2022) Grim Root by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam (2024) The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix (2020) Ten Lords for the Holidays by Jennifer Ashley et al. (2023) The Crime at Black Dudley by Margery Allingham (1929) The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley (2024) The Midnight Feast by Lucy Foley (2024)

Two stars: Star Flight by Phyllis A. Whitney (1993) Murder on Mistletoe Lane by Clara McKenna (2023) A Ghastly Spectacle by Lynn Messina (2021) The Devil’s Playground by Craig Russell (2023) The Cocktail Waitress by James M. Cain (2012) The Scoundrel's Daughter by Anne Gracie (2021) The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club by Helen Simonson (2024) The Falcon at the Portal by Elizabeth Peters (1999) [reread] The Star and the Strange Moon by Constance Sayers (2023) Eternity Ring by Patricia Wentworth (1948) Mr. Brading’s Collection by Patricia Wentworth (1950) Anna, Where Are You? by Patricia Wentworth (1951) Ladies’ Bane by Patricia Wentworth (1952) Out of the Past by Patricia Wentworth (1953) Poison in the Pen by Patricia Wentworth (1955) The Fingerprint by Patricia Wentworth (1956) The Cruellest Month by Louise Penny (2007) Lady Gone Wicked by Elizabeth Bright (2018) A Murder in Hollywood: The Untold Story of Tinseltown's Most Shocking Crime by Casey Sherman (2024) The Marigold by Andrew F. Sullivan (2023) Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay (2024) Slimed!: An Oral History of Nickelodeon's Golden Age by Mathew Klickstein (2013)

One star: A Lady Awakened by Cecilia Grant (2011) A Boldly Daring Scheme by Lynn Messina (2020) Dangerous in Diamonds by Madeline Hunter (2011) A Promise of Spring by Mary Balogh (1990) Dark Angel by Mary Balogh (1994) Married by Morning by Lisa Kleypas (2010) Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera (2024) The Spring Bride by Anne Gracie (2015) The Summer Bride by Anne Gracie (2016) The Catherine Wheel by Patricia Wentworth (1949) The Silent Pool by Patricia Wentworth (1956) The Five Red Herrings by Dorothy L. Sayers (1930)