#Swedish nomad

[stenennomad]

Living in an RV in Sweden. Very cold outside now, minus 22 Celsius. But nice and cosy inside the bus.

My buddy Buddy. A Chinese crested dog

[guessimdumb]

The Nomads - Where The Wolf Bane Blooms (1984)

Swedish garage punks with a classic Halloween tune, quoting from a poem recited in the 1941 movie The Wolfman.

You may be pure of heart and pure of soul But you'll become a wolf when the moon is full And in the pale light of the moon You're gonna see the wolf bane bloom

[ifindus]

today is sami national day! (february 6th) 🤍

Had another ask about Norway and the Sami languages too, but I cannot find it

It is the national Sapmi day! Lahkoe Biejjine!

I do think Norway and Sapmi would be separate countries much in the same way Norway and Sweden are. During the Viking Age, they definitely co-existed in some of the same areas, but what is the very north of Norway today was not included in the country of Norway during this period of time - mostly only inhabited by Sami people. Norway was considered its own country from 871, so at the beginning of the Viking age. The Sami people were also a nomadic people, so borders are a bit difficult to pin down regardless.

In Hetalia we see borders change all the time, i.e. Baltics living with Russia during the Soviet Union, and I do think Sapmi today very much reach all the requirements to be considered its own entity in Hetalia. I prefer Sapmi as their own nation and character in Hetalia, because I think that would be very beneficial to showing off the culture better. Though Sami people (in Norway) are of course no less Norwegian because of it.

In regards to the missing ask about Norway speaking any of the Sami languages, I think most likely he would not? He probably knows a few phrases or sentences in Nordsamisk, but not enough to hold a conversation or understand much.

Suggest having a look at @saltlakris 's design for Sapmi ✨ they also most likely have a better understanding of this than me 😅

[huariqueje]

Nomad - Jukka Vanttinen , 2018.

Swedish, b. 1954 -

Mezzotint printed in bluish-black ink on wove paper, Ed. 60.

[juni-ravenhall]

long post about ydris & circus worker / traveller / romani stereotypes (+ unrelated but related heterochromia)

(.... and sse's behaviour around one traveller-coded character and then of a masc-ish woman of colour while they dont do this with their plain white toast characters)

yasmin told me to write a post about this after i was telling her about it, so here it is.

first for canon: ydris is obvs pandorian, non-human, and his human form does not necessarily read as a specific ethnicity or cultural belonging (but i will get back to his looks later in the post!). he throws in french words but he is pandorian. why he speaks french (or uses it for flair?) is not clear from the lore afaik.

anyway. there are stereotypes about people who work in the travelling circus (or in any circus at all, depending). these stereotypes often go hand in hand with stereotypes about romani people and other travelling people. (im talking both about circus people of the past and present.)

here are some examples of harmful stereotypes about travelling people, circus people, and romani people (often these are founded in being an "outsider", people dont like to trust outsiders and consider them strange for not being exactly the same as themselves, aka xenophobia):

thief, criminal, dangerous

trickery, lying, cheating

seduction, enchanting (can come back to ^ trickery etc)

unreliable, untrustworthy

immoral, and/or follows other morals/laws than "the norm" in the places they travelled to [and this is seen in a negative way]

promiscuous, unfaithful

mysterious, intriguing

using magic / reading fortunes (these can be connected back to trickery, mystery, seduction...)

wild, untamed

"are they good or bad?"

speaks a foreign language or a secret language (and may use this to talk behind the backs of locals / to trick locals)

sexualised on behalf of above points (immoral, mysterious, seductive, enchanting, wild, untamed...)

objectified and/or dehumanised on behalf of above points (i think you get it by now.)

these stereotypes can affect people who are, for example, european or american white people who work in a travelling circus. however, romani people, on behalf of their ethnicity, can be affected by these stereotypes about nomadic people even if that romani person doesn't live a nomadic lifestyle, because these stereotypes about romani people persist as racist and cultural stereotypes even when you take the travelling out of the equation. (i think irish travellers also face the stereotypes regardless of if they live as settled or as nomads?)

now, i want to say some things about ydris looks before i move on with the topic of these stereotypes, but first its important to note that sso is a swedish game made by swedish people, and whats considered "white" or "white passing" in the US is not the same as what it is in scandinavia or northern europe (i cant speak for other parts of europe well enough so i wont). its also more like "what part of europe"-passing rather than just "white" passing.

in sweden, you're not going to meet hispanic americans or african americans, for example, but you will see romani people and kurdish people, for example, and ofc, polish people, estonian people, people from around the area.... the minority groups are different in europe vs the US (vs anywhere else ofc. i hope USamericans learn that nowhere else is the US and you need to stop projecting shit on other places). the idea of whats "swedish ethnicity" or "scandinavian ethnicity" or "european ethnicity" and so on are not equal to "white american ethnicity". remember that many white ppl here can trace back their history like a thousand years in the same country, while white ppl in america are generally like, "my great grandpa came from germany, my great grandma from poland, and my girlfriend's family came from ireland" and so on. theres a mash of different cultures and ethnicities, which isnt the average case for white people in europe. (please: obviously im not saying "everyone is this" just on average. plenty of ppl are mixed here, or have grandparents who moved here, etc.)

i am a swede with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and i have experienced white ppl colorism (im still not sure if colorism is the right word, but i think so. however its mostly harmless idiocy, but frustrating to hear over and over). i dont mind it anymore, i just think its stupid, now, as an adult. and colorism(?) within white people is not at all as bad as racism that poc experience in the same country - just to be clear. the reason i bring it up isnt to say "boohoo me", but to try to explain what "white passing" or "swedish passing" is in sweden, from a person who literally is white but is not considered swedish enough due to having darker eyes and darker hair.

anyway! ydris has black hair. from a swedish developer and swedish audience perspective, black hair is enough to make a character read as "foreign". (thats why we had this whole tangent ^ above.) but, we also dont need to rely on a vague hint of foreignness, because he throws in french words, and he's from pandoria. and a lot of people will associate the travelling circus and ydris' wagon with romani culture to some degree, whether or not that's accurate (again, circus culture and romani culture and other nomadic cultures can become mixed up). the black hair ties well into the image of a travelling circus person.

ydris is a sort of "chaotic neutral" in the story so far. he has different intentions than the "heroes" and "villains" both, and he is largely self-centered (focusing on his own desires - tho he seems to care about pandoria as well - and he likely experiences different feelings than the average jorvegian does, and his sense of morals and social rules are different). now, im sure you can see how that ties back into some of the stereotypes ive listed: he's a foreign outsider who cant be trusted, he is mysterious, is he good or bad?, he tricks people, he behaves chaotically (wild)...... etc

he also comes across as flirty towards the player, which im sure you can see, ties back in to things from the stereotype list like seduction, enchantment, and being promiscuous. if it helps, consider Esmeralda from Hunchback of Notre Dame, as an example of the harmful stereotype of seductive romani. (i loved disney hunchback when i was a kid, and i also want to point out that that movie handles the topic of how esmeralda has to do things just to scrape by, and she is demonised in the eyes of a rich white religious man in power, who is evil, while she herself is a good person and being oppressed and dehumanised. just leaving that here as food for thought, not to really defend or cancel anything, but to encourage ppl to view things in a nuanced way. the stereotypes are harmful and disney is an evil company, but there are also parts in that story that are criticising the right things. then theres other parts that are just ??? )

also, there is a significant population of romani in france, but ofc there are romani across many countries. yasmin pointed out when we talked that french is also seen as a "sexy language" - so it kind of both ties into the "foreign traveller from further down in europe" and "seductive romani" by having him use a language considered "sexy".

ydris also has heterochromia (one light blue eye and one dark blue) which isnt related to the idea of the traveller, but it *is* considered "mysterious", "strange", and potentially "untrustworthy". this is ofc really weird - heterochromia is a real life condition that completely normal people have. having heterochromia shouldnt be portrayed as anything weird or special - there is nothing mysterious or strange about it, or something "untrustworthy" (playing into things like being two-faced).

if you go back up to the list of harmful stereotypes, keeping the things ive said in mind, and how ydris behaves in the game..... im sure you can understand what im saying about the bigger picture. the combination of living in a circus wagon, being mysterious and flirtatious and living by his own rules, being untrustworthy, having black hair, throwing in french words, theres a lot of things that maybe seem okay out of context, but when you put them together, to me, it makes it clear that ydris is like.... romani coded, or something close to romani coded, despite, yes, technically being pandorian, i get it, thank you, its not relevant, he is not real, the staff at sse are real and their biases are real.

theres nothing wrong in itself with being flirty or promiscuous or seductive and whatnot - or with fictional villains, or chaotic, untrustworthy characters - the problem is the stereotype of a group of real people. especially when you're passing these stereotypes on to an audience of impressionable children. why is ydris the character being handled this way? why is sabine the character to be handled this way? why dont they handle plain white toast characters this way?

an important point is that i dont think neither ydris or sabine are really sexualised within the game itself - the more blatant stuff happens on sse's official social media. ydris is sexualised to some degree in the way that he flirts: again, it alludes to the seductive romani person, even if its very mild flirting (the stereotype is still perpetuated). sabine is mostly not sexualised in the game, just hyped up in general, but the social media team keeps milking the fact that ppl are thirsty for sabine. the post is not really about sexualisation as the focus. its about general questionable or outright harmful design choices, that sometimes also has to do with sexualisation and objectification.

this, as usual, isnt about cancelling sso or sse. its about being analytical and critical about the media you consume, and about biases both from creators and from audiences. its about learning how to be more understanding and respectful towards other people. and about raising your voice and holding ppl accountable when they perpetuate harmful things (esp if its people in power, like companies, celebrities, and politicians).

personally, i dont think you arent allowed to think ydris or sabine are hot. its okay if they are your type or if you relate to them or whatever, because like, ultimately we're surrounded by all these characters and real people everywhere in media that are affected by biases. but i DO think you need to actually think about this shit if you are thirsting for sabine or thirsting for ydris. i dont think its great to just be like, omg, typical ydris, he tricked me again and then he seduced me, typical circus people. or to be like, wow, sabine is so hot and should step on me, beefy women of colour are scarier than beefy white women, thats so hot. do you get it? you can be attracted to these charas without being racist or xenophobic or misogynist or whatever, they just happen to be your type, and thats nice, but you do need to think about how you view them and why, and how you talk about them and why, bc a lot of people have biases they arent even aware to, and might not understand what kind of biases you perpetuate. example: how apparently most ppl didnt think about the romani / traveller stereotype implications of ydris so i had to write this post. stay woke and pay attention to potential harmful stereotypes in media, so i dont have to write this shit anymore

[raisindave]

[Chapter 75] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

The air burns in your lungs, and every bounding step sends shockwaves of tension through your knees and hips, a consequence of a sedentary work week- not to mention a rowdy previous night. Sweet spit pools under your tongue, but this impromptu jog was a necessary response to electric muscles. You'd be a fool to think your paradoxically exhausted and alert mind could get any sleep, and some fresh air would probably do you some good. Puffs of misty breath were illuminated by passing streetlights, your muscles screamed for relief that your racing mind couldn't afford. The sun hadn't even risen yet, and it won't for a while. It's hard to say if you got any rest last night, but you'd memorized the wallpaper pattern well enough to see it when you blink. 

Going for a jog with everything you own on your back is oddly freeing in a way. Like you could slip into the woods without a word and live like a nomad in the Germanic birches and pines. Escape duty, shed discipline. Responsibility would slide off you like rain off a wing. It makes you wonder if you could do it. Slink away from it all, dye your hair, and find a small Swedish commune that might take you in, rural enough to be free from CIA surveillance. Settle down with some Scandinavian man who warms your back at night and spend your days selling goat's milk soaps at farmer's markets. 

No, that's not you. 

You're too loyal—Loyal and stubborn. A slave to what's familiar, as counterintuitive as this career may be to that ideal. Loyalty is a flaw and a blessing in equal measure, a double-edged sword. But what are you loyal to if you're not even loyal to yourself?

A glance at the stony plaza that'd been the bane of your existence for the last few days was now almost entirely stripped of all military presence. Pop-up tents and armoured vans that hosted chin-scratching commanders now sit as they once were; jagged cobblestone sidewalks with orange leaves peppering every other stone. It's like you were never there. But that's the goal in the end: To sweep high-strung military situations out of the public consciousness as soon as possible, and carry on being the invisible, omnipresent, but lethal phantom guarding the streets against a greater evil. Maybe Ghost was onto something when he got that callsign. 

This state is always the most unsettling in every mission. The bad guys are gone, the good guys are gone, and you sit in this odd liminal space where life has paused for an indeterminate amount of time. It makes you wonder about the first line cook or waitress to step into that restaurant after you'd occupied it. Would they be able to sense the tension and panic you felt while sitting at those tables where they'd served thousands of guests? Would the line chefs be aware of how many hundreds of times you'd paced through their workspace, raking your mind for a glimmer of insight? No, no they wouldn't. You're just a pawn, transitory and unfamiliar. Leaving behind no impact save for the ones your higher-ups choose to acknowledge you for. 

Laswell didn't have you on some private jet like last time, it looked like a much larger plane, the kind you'd been on dozens of times before. It's not quite a 747, but maybe a bit smaller. Either way, you seemed to be the first on the plane out of your colleagues, but the flight attendant didn't blink twice when you crossed paths to find your seat well before the scheduled takeoff time. You didn't even care to change your clothes after your jog, only slung on a hoodie and settled in by the window for a long flight. That half-eaten chocolate cake and a mess of sheets, a puddle of water in the bathroom, and that dumb fucking yellow box were all left behind. Whatever the contents of that box were would be left to the cleaning staff to interpret; you could only hope it's not a gun, knife or, maybe a skinned cat, or some other macabre item you'd expect from someone that wears a skull mask every day. 

Baritone voices caught the peripheral of your hearing, and Price and Gaz came down the aisle with the rest of them, carrying on their conversation as they stopped beside you. A few other people were on the flight by now, tinkering overhead lighting illuminated about a dozen other patrons in suits and hoodies. Time stood still when Price stopped to sniff the air, honing his attention on Ghost, who sat, ever the tempered one, eyes straight and alert like a good little soldier while Price inspected. You'd snapped out of your trance when he grumbled something about Ghost smelling like his 'nan,' your blood ran cold. On top of that, you only connected the odd look Soap gave you after about thirty seconds of staring into oblivion, probably noticing how oddly you flickered to attention at that moment. Ghost looked grumpy and sunken, but it's hard to say. The fucker is always grumpy and sunken. You'd only caught a glimpse of white on black when he slung his pack into the overhead compartment. For now, you sat in silence as your other coworkers filed in, dodging eye contact as you both waited to have all your personal space sapped by Gaz or Soap or Price or whoever. 

Only when the pilot chimed in on the intercom did you get a grasp of where you were even going. Seol, Korea. What is she bringing you to Korea for? You haven't a clue. Hopefully, she knows you don't know a word of the language, and you could only pray that she won't give you a week to master it. Especially with the knowledge of how poorly that went last time. The plane accelerating glued you to your seat, and you got to watch this humming German cityscape spark to life in the early morning hours. It didn't take long for you to sleep, eventually drifting off as Gaz sat with folded arms beside you, snoring. 

Eventually, the familiar falling sensation made you jolt awake, and time passed in a ritualistic haze. A mechanical walkway invited you to leave the plane, and you hurried to follow along with your colleagues' broad strides. However, they disappeared in a hurry, taking a route that looked more like an employee corridor, leaving Price to nod in the direction of the rest of the passengers. You obediently followed his gesture, not that you had much of a say. Laswell greeted you at the airport, or rather, she sat at one of those airport cafes, blonde bangs bowed down to a manilla folder next to her coffee. The cast she'd worn for the past few weeks was off, now free from the reminder of your little stay in Al Mazrah.

"What's the sitrep? " You pulled out the chair across from her.

She didn't seem startled or surprised by your presence, only lightly flipped the folder shut, stray paperclips poking out from a series of cluttered pages. Bony fingers knit together, and she seemed just as calm and casual as ever. 

"There is no sitrep," she shrugged, and your heart sank for a moment. 

A million and more thoughts surged through your system, immediately defaulting back to something you'd done. Just as you began to suspect that CIA technology had read your mind, and she caught on to your fantasy about fleeing to Sweden, she spoke again.

"The boys are off to another mission. You'll be on standby," she took a long drag from her paper cup. 

"Am I being benched?" The question lept from your chest before you could even process the words. 

"What?" an odd amusement lit up her cheeks. "No- like I said, just on standby. We're just not currently in need of a linguistic specialist, that's all."

The words soothed your mind, and the humour of your assertion caught up to you. A guilty mind made you eager to get defensive. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Don't look so glum, I'm here too," she cooed, reclining in her seat as crowds of people with trailing suitcases flurried past. "We're keeping you at a hotel in Seol, it's an award-winning highrise in the downtown district. I know how you like to keep up with your studies, and there's a library just across the street."

The sentiment would be relaxing, soothing even, if it weren't for a single phrase snagged in your mind.'Keeping you.' Maybe it's as simple what she described, and perhaps she just chose a poor choice of words. You've seen constant action for so long that you've developed velocitation from moving from mission to mission so rapidly that sitting on standby feels odd. It's about time, really, as building tension doesn't recede with this new environment like it usually would. 

These streets seem so alive compared to the uneasy situation you were retreating from, bustling civilians seemed like a foreign sight; it's like you're used to worried eyes and mothers shielding their children as you pass. No Humvees or helicopters in sight, just neat grey suits and kind-eyed women sweeping their storefronts. You can't help but expect the other shoe to drop, and a sense of skepticism of their nonchalant posture muddies your darting gaze. You both walked past a precious little billiards bar sat on the corner that caught your eye, its neon pink sign reading 'Sakura' in flickering letters. You'll have to check that place out if you get the chance, but it's hard to say how long you'll be on 'standby.'

"Have you been here before?" you asked idly, unable to resist glancing at every flashing sign you pass. 

"Twice, but not for leisure," she turned you down another street of neon signs and high-rises. Low dark clouds suggested you were about to get some weather, and the thick smell of rain hung in the air, "there's a CIA base nearby."

"It seems like the kind of place best explored after working hours," you sigh. 

You filled the space with idle small talk to diffuse the unsettling suspicion that something was off. It crept on your nerves like a horror movie or that feeling in a thunderstorm where the air is thick and ready to ignite. Here you are, now particularly isolated from people you only hardly knew to begin with, slinking through unfamiliar and lively streets toward a destination you'd have no hope of finding without Laswell's guidance. 

But as your little outing came to a halt, a wall of glass and steel opened its doors to welcome you. It was just like she said. Beautiful. A glass hotel with stylized hexagonal windows jutted out over an affluent cultural district, blue ceramic tiles slid down the side of rooftops, meeting vivid paper lanterns of red and pink, like an effortless blend of historical and contemporary architecture. Something old and new, borrowed and blue. You couldn't help but be thankful for the shelter and cool air conditioning as warm autumn rain started to patter on the sidewalk behind you. 

This new hotel room was a significant upgrade from the last, though that's not a hard metric to beat. It nearly took your breath away when you stepped out of the elevator and past a cold metal door. The surge of rich colours, dim, sultry lighting, and fuscia and neon hues on dark, luxurious textures mingled with your senses. Even the air smelled expensive, like roses and cashmere. A glass chandelier hung like bubbles over a dining set, and stylized chartreuse sculptures only vaguely resembled chairs gathered around a glass dining set. Rich cyan floors squeaked under your boots, echoing through a hotel room that looks more like a modern art museum.

"You'll be in the penthouse, but don't be too flattered- it's the only room we could get on short notice," she snorted, turning to face you as you gaped. "Here - let me see your phone."

You blinked, almost unsure of what she'd just requested. It'd be easy to forget you even have a phone, not just the dinky burner she uses to summon you to work. From the bottom of your pack you hunched over, you wrenched out the sleek cellphone she'd given you as a replacement for your previous one. Essentially a brick, it held no familiar phone numbers or passwords, leaving you locked out of your lifeline to your personal life. She took it in her pale palm and tapped at the screen, watching her enter a new contact into the device. 

"Text me if you need anything, I'll be right around the corner," she flicked the phone back into your fingers, now with a single contact named 'Kate.'

"Yes, ma'am," you spoke through a tight smile.

"Anything," she spoke sternly, nodding and disappearing past the glossy steel door with a click. 

And just like that, you're alone again. A different flavour of alone-ness than usual. They can sweeten the pot with fineries, but an underlying rage poisons what should be relaxation. It was hardly dinnertime, but you couldn't stomach the food that sat in a tray with condensation dripping from the lid. Frustration made you apathetic. You walked like a mindless zombie toward what must be the bedroom after the initial door you opened proved to be a grand bathroom. Maybe it's the change in climate that's giving you a headache.

Impossibly soft crushed cotton sheets were left with trails from your wandering hands, and cyan sheets on a sleek yellow bedframe looked like something worth more than your yearly salary. Whatever your salary even is. Tall concrete walls and slick floors would otherwise be contemporary and soothing if it didn't feel like a stone box. Suddenly, the air was tight in your lungs, and claustrophobia began to make your chest thunder. A grand window wasn't any relief, only reminding you how long the fall was down to those slanted tiled roofs. From poverty to luxury, from frenzy to tranquillity. It's not hard to understand why you feel like an impostor in this satin undersheet. 

You're being punished for getting involved with an unavailable man and separated from him as it would be in any workplace relationship in the military. The only proof that any of that happened is a manifesting bruise on your upper arm and a consistent low ache in your abdomen, painful reminders in a metaphorical sense of a heavy heart. No matter how much you might argue that you're not interested anymore, you've crossed that line, and you can kiss this task force goodbye. 

You'll miss Soap and Gaz, and Price is a sweetheart once you get over his gruff outer shell, but in the end, you can't help but feel your passion fade. It doesn't have to be permanent, and maybe your emotions are getting the better of you. It's been a year of constant service; it's no wonder you're being stretched thin. What's worst of all is you can't properly place your discontentment, making any diagnosis useless. You just need a reset to get away from these perfumed sheets along your shoulders. Laswell gave you her contact, but it's not easy to communicate your complex emotions, especially in this career where you're expected to be stoic and unyielding. What have you gotten yourself into.

Are they knowingly stationing you in places where they know you don't know the native language so you can't travel far? Maybe, maybe not. Is a weak sleep schedule and weeks of physical and mental exhaustion making you feel a heightened sense of paranoia? Maybe, maybe not. Are they putting strips of tape over your hotel doors to track if you leave, thinking you didn't notice it as Laswell stepped out? That much is for sure. 

<< Prev Chapter           Next Chapter>>

Apologies for the late chapter, we’ve got more chapters coming soon. I didn’t want to publish an (in my opinion) uninspired chapter, I couldn’t settle with what I’d written originally, deadline be damned. If you’re wondering where I’ve been for the past few weeks: Here

Master List

[aaknopf]

A multi-generational saga courses across the pages of Ædnan, by Sámi-Swedish author Linnea Axelsson, translated from the Swedish by Saskia Vogel. The verse epic follows an Indigenous Sámi family who have herded reindeer for generations, as the forces of colonialism and modern development of their ancestral lands threaten their culture and livelihood. The story is told by a small chorus of characters from the 1910s through the current day, and we become especially close to Lise, who left her Sámi family, following her brother Jon-Henrik, to be educated at a residential school for “Nomad” children. This excerpt from Chapter XII takes place in the early 1970s, along the Great Lule River Valley, where the state-owned Vattenfall company was developing hydroelectric resources, and Lise is graduating into a world unimaginable to her parents.

. .

The river climbed silently up the hills

as soon as Vattenfall whistled it came creeping:

–

Streamed backwards up its deep channel and drowned the earth

When the great Suorva Dam for the third time was to be regulated

–

Entreaty

shone from Mama’s eyes

–

She explained clearly to the Swedes 

that the fishing will suffer if the water rises

–

There was probably no one who understood what she was saying

– –

After the social studies lesson I went with the others to sit on the gymnasium floor

–

Almost all of Malmberget’s students had been dismissed from class

– To participate in the miners’ strike meeting

 –

Someone had heard that Olof Palme was coming

that he would travel all the way up here 

–

To the mining company’s and Vattenfall’s world the one that he himself had helped build

–

It is what he is guarding

It is all that he can see

–

The mine boss’s voice

flowed wildly above the crowded hall which was hot with bodies

–

His voice was so robust his conviction so intense

–

I glanced at Anne who was sitting beside me leaning against the wall bars

and she smiled back at me

–

Soon we would be leaving school too 

–

And could start working join the union

–

You took the job you wanted that’s all there was to it 

– 

Switchboard cleaner or cook

with the old folks at the Pioneer or the children in day care

– –

I spend the weekend up at Mama and Papa’s 

–

I stand with Jon-Henrik

 –

Watching the river flow murky across the slope

–

That brushy slope

where he and I used to go it’s underwater now

 –

How are our tracks ever to be heard Among the Swedes’ roads and power stations

–

It’s Jon-Henrik who says this he had also been drawn down to the dam

–

To work for Vattenfall as soon as school was done

 –

I’m surprised when he says

That he’d preferred to have taken up with the reindeer

–

Been elected into the Sámi community

And learned to guide that wandering gray soft ocean across the world of the fells

–

Just as the lot of us were once taught at the Nomad School that this is what the Sámi do

that this is how we all live

–

He laughs and says:

–

Who knows what the spring flood will bring with it

this drowned  earth may yet be fertile

More on this book and author:

Learn more about Ædnan by Linnea Axelsson.

Check out The Rumpus for a conversation between Linnea Axelsson and Susan Devan Harness about Axelsson's Sámi heritage and the decision to write Ædnan in verse. 

Click here to read Linnea Axelsson's op-ed piece for LitHub on Scandinavia’s hidden history of Indigenous oppression.

Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

[meteor752]

Meteors con adventures continue

I went here to promote my larp group actually, so I dressed up as one of my characters (Khufu, a nomad who’s mute because of a curse, and also a fox but I didn’t want to bring my fox ears and tail cause kids will just mess them up), and sat as a potionmaker to give people a taste for larping. It was a lot of fun!

The last picture features my masterpiece, a concoction of all the ingredients we brought with us, which includes a soda that tastes like exotic fruits, mint syrup, and hot sauce. It tasted disgusting, but like six people asked for it lol

The lady I’m with is a Swedish voice actress, who’s played (amongst other characters), Princess Luna, Peridot, Derpy Hooves, Chloe Park, and Korra. I almost cried meeting her

Also while waiting for the bus we find an ice slide, and we had a blast with that (The people I was with told me it was super slippery tho, so like you can see the hesitation when I sit down lol)

[r6-unifiedlands]

A Little Company with Big Bad Wolf

[Remington "Espion" Harmonics & Emil "Fenrir" Svensson]

Summary: It seems that the new guy was having difficulty blending in with the team, and Espion decided she wanted to befriend him by helping him with his lab work.

A/N: I blacked out and woke up with this fic, what the fuck.

It’s been a week since Fenrir arrived at Rainbow’s main HQ at Hereford.

Reth liked the codename that the new guy chose for himself. Fenrir from the fabled Norse legend stories, a wolf that could devour both heaven and earth alike and cause massive apocalyptic events. Feared for his name and reputation, how the ol’ wolf got despised by gods and mortals alike.

Except, this new operator feels like he’d topple down if she nudged him slightly, probably.

Fenrir, or Emil as his real name, doesn’t talk as much. He was shunned by almost half of the team, and the rest either offered him friendship or avoided interacting much with him. An overworked man who barely even sleeps in his own room and prefers to rest on his messy desk, observation papers written in Swedish scattered across the surface of his workbench. He eats almost alone most of the time in the cafeteria, with the exception of either Kapkan or Stena would sit together with him and keep the chemist company.

[There was a moment when she heard Nomad talking to Kaid in Arabic during training, and she thought it was just a normal conversation. But as soon as she heard Fenrir and Thermite’s names in there, she figured out they were talking shit.]

With that in mind, she figured out that she wanted to keep the anxiety-riddled man company by—

“No, I don’t need a test subject for now.” Emil didn’t move his head from soldering a circuit board, his voice remained flat and very much tired. Might be because of the damage that Mike caused on his F-NATT device. “I’ve tested the current formula of the fear toxin on myself, and that was good enough for Jordan and Mira.”

…Welp, there goes her plan of accompanying the Swedish operator by helping his lab tests.

She sighed softly, and it seemed that her slightly disappointed expression was noticeable to the other, because Emil gestured towards an empty chair near him. “I don’t mind someone to chat, though. Saif is currently on a mission, and it’s been a quiet evening without him.”

Oh, that’s a new information. It's not surprising, considering how Saif was known as the friendliest being in this hostile environment, but still new information regardless.

With slight hesitation, she pulled the chair close to her and sat down, eyes watching the way he tinkered with the gadget’s inner workings. Calloused hands carefully plucking burnt parts with tweezers and replacing them with new ones. No rushed job. Just slow and steady work.

Reth likes watching the process. She enjoys how machineries work and how people handle them. Little screws got put aside, small cables roughly connected with each other, or in this case, how the Dread Mine’s gas canister casing finally got replaced with a newer and possibly stronger one. Everyone’s gadgets and devices are wonderful by themselves, and it made her heart swell up in pride whenever she saw people taking good care of them.

“You look happy.” Emil’s gruff voice snapped her out of her train of thought. His head finally turned to face her. “Something on your mind, hm?”

Reth smiled widely, her fang peeking out. “This is the first time I saw your gadget close by.” She then let out a nervous laugh, her violet contacts avoiding the chemist’s blue eyes. “The last time I saw it, I got sprayed by your fear gas and got myself knocked out until the end of the practice round.”

“I don’t remember you getting knocked out. You were doing well back then.” He followed by a soft mutter of Swedish, probably a swear word. 

“It’s my thing.” It’s her amnesia that prevented her from remembering lots of parts of her day-to-day basis. You possibly have a dissociative disorder, Harry’s voice rang through her mind. “Speaking of well, how’s F-NATT? Did you fix it?”

The mention of his gadget made the chemist shift his attention back to his work desk, examining the circuit board once again. “I’ll run some tests tomorrow. It’s dinner time.” He sat up and stretched his body, she could hear the subtle crackle and pops of the joints. “If I remember correctly, today’s dinner is steak with steamed carrots and broccoli florets.”

Reth groaned, the previous smile now replaced with a small frown. “I’ll skip. Old man Baker would chase me down to make me eat vegetables.”

Emil raised one of his eyebrows. “That’s unusual, coming from someone with a military background.” The engineer now noticed how tall the chemist was as he came closer. “Now that I think about it, you barely showed up in the cafeteria. What did you eat all this time?”

“Instant cup noodles, my best friend!”

He clicked his tongue; the blue eyes gleamed brighter under the room’s lighting. “Unhealthy. Do you know how much sodium is in there and the health risks if you consume it daily?” Now he reminded her of her late mother, who would nag her whenever she found out about her eating a raw block of instant ramen secretly.

Besides Gustave, Emil’s response is nostalgic to the engineer in a good way.

Another sigh left Reth’s mouth, eyes now shifted to the ground. “Vegetable texture and taste would make me gag. I can’t force them into my mouth unless it’s mashed into other food to mask the yuckiness…” Her voice lowered, thumbs twiddling. A sign of her nervousness.

In all honesty, Reth is embarrassed to tell people about this quirk because of how wildly different people would react to it. Baker went on a rant about how she should’ve gotten her shit together a long time ago and to grow the fuck up, and she decided not to listen to it. Flores was still kind to her, making her try Perico, a Colombian dish consisting of scrambled eggs with chopped vegetables, with the veggies minced more finely than usual. 

[Marius agreed with her since he also can’t stand vegetable texture other than starch roots like potatoes and yams. He just masked his dislike better than her.]

“So you’re telling me…” Emil crossed his arms, tapping his index fingers absentmindedly “...you have food hypersensitivity?” She nodded slowly. He hummed, closing his eyes for a while.

“Emil? You alright?”

“I’m alright, just thinking of something.” She could feel the chemist’s gaze piercing through her. “If I cook you something that wouldn’t make you gag every day, would you eat food properly from now on?”

Blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me right correctly, Espion.” More blinking gestures from the younger operator, and he let out a loud, exasperated sigh. Strands of his jet-black hair fell, and he combed them back up with his fingers. “I will keep track of what you like and don’t like in vegetables and run extensive experiments on them in the kitchen. You’ll be my test subject.”

For a normal person, they would be highly suspicious because of that ominous statement alone. This person previously worked for Deimos, blew up a whole site, and developed a gas that possibly would end up with people killing off each other if inhaled for an extended period with an incorrect amount of formula.

Too bad that Reth is not “normal,” in a sense.

“I don’t mind.” She grinned, an honest smile for the other. “When you start?”

“The kitchen beside the cafeteria would be free of use around nineteen. Walking now would get us extra spare time to talk during the trip.”

Somehow, her task failed successfully.

[cookiecrumbles52]

“Hello Snufkin!”

“Niina?”

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

Name: Niina Age: 13 Species: MumrikLanguage(s): English, Finnish, Swedish, Fluent in Hattyfattener Occupation: Nomad, Lighthouse Assistant About: Not much is known about Niina, in fact one day she just showed up in Moomin Valley without rhyme or reason. Well there was a reason but not many know about it, really only Snufkin does but that's only because he was the one to tell her about Moomin Valley in the first place. To others Niina is quite a lovely soul. She isn't vain or arrogant and cares a great deal about how others are treated.

When she's not playing with Moomin and his friends you'll find her passing the time by walking around and helping anyone who needs it, no matter the task. She may be small but just like Little My she definitely has the spirit. However just like Snufkin when winter comes so does her time to set off on a new adventure. Strange thing is, unlike her green hatted friend, North is her way to go, not South. Fandom: Moomin [ Tove Jansson ] — Based on the 1990's Moomin Television Series Fanfic Title: " Valley of Seasons " Program: Procreate Illustration Time: 3hrs 46min

[ This is a Moomin AU, in no way is this canon to any of the OG storyline. ]

[stenennomad]

[smashedapples]

Blog info/About me :)

To start this off I'll try to mention most fandoms I am in cuz I feel like it gives a pretty decent overview of what I do, fandom stuff are like the only thing I post about here lol. I'll try to update this whenever it chanes and it is mlst likley not even all ofly fandoms cuz I like way too much stuff for everything to fit ngl.

Main fandoms:

Jacksons Diary (webtoon)

My hero academia (anime)

Sk8 the infinity (anime)

Little Nightmares (games)

The legend of Zelda (games)

Linked Universe (legend of zelda fan-comic)

Alice in Borderland (series)

Cinderella boy (webtoon)

Fnaf (games/movie)

Merlin BBC (series)

Klaus (movie)

Other fandoms and interests:

Webtoons: Castle swimmer, Nomads, Marionetta, Schoolbus Graveyard, To Be Honest, Letters on the wall, Silent Screams, Sable Curse, Our Walk Home, Your Wings and Mine, Realta

Games: Eternal Afterlife, Genshin Impact, Fortnite, Sky children of the light, Roblox

TV series/movies/anime: Danny Phantom, The dragon prince, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Metal Family, Alien Stage, Bridge to Terrabithia, Stars Align, Seraph of the end, Steven Universe, Nanbaka, Romantic killer, Centaurworld, The Greatest Showman, School of Rock

Theatre/ballet: The Nutcracker, Ride the Cyclone, School of Rock

Books: Percy Jackson, I am the messenger, Grandmaster of demonic cultivations (Mdzs), Hunger Games, Maze runner

Bands/music: Will Wood, Will Wood and the Tapeworms, Set it Off, Jhariah, Akeboshi, Queen

Other stuff

This blog will literally just be me gushing over the current media I'm brainrotting over. And sometimes also my art

I am really new to tumblr and have no idea what I'm doing or how it works so im just winging it for now lmao

Whenever I am not attached to my phone or another screen (which is quite rare-) I'm probably drawing. I have also started getting into bead works and embroidery through crafting cosplays.

She/her

Swedish 🇸🇪

Instagram: SmashedApples_

Artfight: SmashedApples_

Tiktok (I don't really post a lot there but oh well): tsuyus.left.eye.ball

[full-on-sam]

Hello! You said you'd be accepting WBW/STS asks, so: here's an ask! Happy WBW!!

What's art like in your WIP's world? How does it differ from place to place, what form does it take, what subjects does it portray, etc.? You don't need to answer all of these, just ramble to your heart's content!

And, if you don't have a lot of worldbuilding around art, tell me about your world's language(s)! I'd be just as interested in hearing that!

Let's pretend it's still Wednesday please. And thanks fir the ask! I really missed these exchanges, they were my life all summer and I'm super sad it kinda died down and that I disappeared. But I'm trying to get back on track! So!

As for art, I am kinda in a slump right now, because that is a part of the worldbuilding I jave absolutely not flashed out. I think I will try to stay true to the historical settings, but maybe adding some more fantasy elements here and there.

As fir languages OH BOY. I love languages. I am studying them, and their mechanics 24/7. I made that my uni major. I feed on linguistics, all the throats movement to articulate the sounds. The structures of every sentence broken down. The language learning aspect.

I am pretty sure this book is born 69% because I wanted an outlet for all that.

So

There are actually a lot lot lot of languages. First of, the one that is called Common. Is a superlanguage that is kinda spoken all around Unyon'he. Obviously though not everyone can speak it properly. Think Latin in the middle ages. It was spoken by ecclesiastical people and whatnot, but commoners could not speak it at all. Except that at least 4/5 of my charachters have recieved higher education so they can. What makes it worse though, is that all the countries that spoke Latin where of the same linguistic roots, that us Indo European.

My five countries instead speak all different languages, based on real world Arabic, German, Chinese, Portuguese/Spanish, and Finnic/Swedish. So all of a different root. At this point I think I should reconsider Commin language as a whole core concept because it is just so fucking difficult.

Unless I make it a god given language which yeah. Could work.

MOREOVER! Think about dialects. So each country is divided in regions, and more or less they all have different dialects. And what about all the nomad merchants in Tijara? Yep. Complicated.

And then there are sign languages of course, which are very important bc Nayeli is very much deaf, thank you, and it is the only way she can communicate with the rest of the Squad.

So how many languages are there? 30/40 I guess. Yay for me!

[possession1981-moving]

i'm german, and i think it's VERY important to talk about sweden being colonizers bc we literally learned nothing about Scandinavia in school! like i knew they colonized, but i didn't know to which extent this all really happened. so you informed me about such an important part of european history and it's crazy to me that german schools only teach about the hol0caust to this day.. like we're basically neighbors..

i mean sweden also had the first state run eugenics institute in the world which pioneered such incredible research methods as cataloguing racial 'types' in the country (germanic swedes, finns, sámis, romani and jewish people were the main groups) through things like phrenology, 'nomad schools' where sámi children were supposed to be 'civilized' enough to be 'productive' in the eyes of the colonizer state yet kept nomadic and gatekept from 'civilized' society, forced sterilization of a range of people deemed a threat to the racial hygiene of ethnic swedes (such as alcoholics, generally mentally ill people, the children of poor people whose parents had many children etc) and a lot of swedish eugenic researchers were very closely associated with german eugenic circles as well (indeed, many swedes from the upper classes were staunch nazi supporters throughout wwII because well, why wouldn't they be?) and this is all 20th century shit. or well, even 21st century shit because trans people who wanted to medically transition were forcibly sterilized until 2013 in sweden.

and well, we have a right wing government puppeteered by a fascist party who are campaigning to completely eliminate the opportunities for any immigrants who don't make a substantial amount of money (aka most likely white westerners with highly specialized skillsets) at the moment (this is just one of many of their desired policies, i'm mentioning it because it is a hot issue currently) so it's not like things are going in the right direction.

[apricops]

I have a vitally important question about manor punk. Are there horse nomads and/or pastoralists?

Oh you’d better believe that the future has neo-horse lords. Roaming groups of Appalachian raiders continue to fight with the “Suburban Samurai,” a large buffer zone on the East Coast that separates DC and New York from the… whatever the hell’s going on down there.

Funny you should ask - when I started Manorpunk I knew I would be tempted to overthink everything and draw some consistent through-line of material conditions to ‘properly explain’ the future, so I threw in the Iowan Khaganate with the rationale of “there is no non-silly explanation for a polity to be named the Iowan Khaganate.”

Speaking tangentially of horses and pastoralism, I bring to you some good news from the future: the Neo-Comanches — a bunch of drunken Swedish teenagers who thought it would be fun to just larp as spaghetti-western injuns - were so utterly Cringe that after being defeated at the Battle of Wind River by actual Indigenous people (Eastern Shoshone and Northern Arapaho specifically), a wave of public support and sympathy led to a series of massive legal and political wins for indigenous activists which culminated in the creation of the Landback Federation.

I am posting this now and stopping myself from going “oh I should include fifty more things here and never finish it”

[doomedandstoned]

STONE NOMADS Share Blistering New Song “Blackened Paradise”

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Sometimes a band chooses their name in irony, but there's no question that STONE NOMADS sound every bit as heavy as their moniker implies. The Houston, Texas band formed over the pandemic and have since released full-length 'Fields of Doom' (2022) and, earlier this year, an EP called 'Fiery Sabbath' (2023). Now, the stoner-doom trio give us a first-listen to new material leading into their colossal second album.

Latest single "Blackened Paradise" offers up grizzled singing from Jude Sisk (bass/vox), crunchy riffage and transcendent harmonies care of Jon Cosky (guitar/vox), and a pulsating rhythms at the hands Esben Willems (drums). Says the band:

"Blackened Paradise" is an ominous lyrical journey of violence and betrayal set to a blackened doom soundtrack. It’s the first single from our upcoming release '...At the Gates of Solitude' (2023) which has been described as “pure kickass, flame roaring majesticness” by Esben Willems (Monolord) who guests on the album.

...At The Gates of Solitude by Stone Nomads drops next week on October 19th via Gravitoyd Heavy Music (get it here). Stick it on a playlist with Trouble, Las Cruces, Formation Ritual, Thunderhorse, Mezzoa, and Monolord.

Give ear...

SOME BUZZ

Stone Nomads is an American Metal power trio based in Houston TX. The band, formed by Jon Cosky (Guitar/Vocals) and Jude Sisk (Bass/Vocals) in 2021, incorporates the sounds of early Doom Metal, modern Sludge Metal and all things heavy. Conceptually, the band explores the journey of life and death through the heavier and darker side of things, delivered via sludged-out, powerful riff-based sonics.

Fields of Doom by Stone Nomads

Fiery Sabbath EP by Stone Nomads

Influences range from Sabbath, Trouble and Candlemass to Crowbar, Conan, Obituary and all things in between. The band has released one album ('Fields of Doom') and one EP ('Fiery Sabbath') via Austin based label Gravitoyd Heavy Music, and is currently releasing it’s 2nd album ('...At the Gates of Solitude') on Oct 19th, 2023 in vinyl, CD and digital formats. The new album’s foundation was laid down by Swedish drum extraordinaire, Esben Willems (Monolord), and features a single with guest vocalist Kyle Thomas (Exhorder, Trouble).

Stone Nomads have shared the stage with scene leaders Khemmis, Spirit Adrift, Elder, Mothership, among others and played multiple festivals and regional tours in the southern US. The band is currently making plans to hit the road in support of the new album in January 2024.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music