#THE SCHOLAR. tes au

[eldritchborn]

I wish to talk about Omes Elder Scrolls verse for two seconds

A rogue seeker, owing no allegiance to Hermaeus Mora anymore or any Prince for that matter.

Its residence is the College of Winterhold (cause I feel its fitting adjacent to the Society of Brilliance). I like to think it was summoned by a student at one point, and from there either request to be or bound itself to an object such as a ring so it didn't return to oblivion. Has much more interest in observing Nirn actively then just reading the knowledge kept within Apocrypha.

Quiet but kind, generally keeps to itself but does aid where necessary.

Has exposed the fact seekers are capable of speech, because it does speak to others when the need or interest arises. Uses telepathy, much like original mind flayer canon.

Tends to favor either the Midden, the Arcanaeum, or the Arch-Mages garden; of which it enjoys taking care of.

Also lil drawing I did of what it looks like:

[psychicism]

little paint-sketch i did of my ldb’s dotter :) sketched her in ms paint a while ago and wanted to paint over it, along the way i decided she’d be a silly little bard so her expression got softened in the end result

she’s not a dragonborn but can use the thu’um pretty well bc of training since she was a child. needless to say temper tantrums were Not Great

[gamergalcmc]

almost done! more from my fnaf skyrim au "The fnaf scrolls"

Name: Foxy

Race: Khajiit/werewolf

class: Swashbuckler

weapon of choice: Dual wielding cutlasses

Glimmer Rock pack ring: moonstone and orange garnet with a white fox carving

special attributes: missing right hand had been replaced by a dwemer prosthetic hand made by Gregory who learned it from Freddy's friend "Cassie's dad." it becomes a "phantom" hand in beast form.

Grew up in Elsweyr as the son of a fisherman. one day, on a deep sea fishing trip, his dad's boat was attacked by pirates. His father was killed and he was taken hostage and locked in the cargo hold. feeling completely helpless, he pleaded to the gods, any gods who could hear him for help. after crying himself to sleep, he was visited in a dream by Hircine to offered him a chalice full of beast blood. Foxy gratefully took it and woke up as a werewolf and took his revenge on the pirates, taking little damage except for losing his right eye.

he then commandeered the ship and used the gold in the treasury to hire a crew of his own.

later, with his werewolf senses, would sniff out a stowaway in the cargo hold, Roxy. he was hesitant but after hearing her story and seeing her firey spirit that reminded him of himself, he took her in and would eventually make her his first mate. When she was ready, at her request, he granted her the bast blood through a ritual.

he was already missing his hand when he found Roxy and when asked about it, he said he lost it when trying to catch a Snow Whale. (a flying whale from deep in TES lore) due to Snow Whales being long extinct, no one really believes his story but he insists.

years later, on a regular supply run in Cyrodiil, Foxy's navigator betrayed Foxy. Foxy was caught off guard and captured and the rest of the crew joined in the mutany. Roxy managed to escape and met Freddy's group in the "Bloated Float" tavern and recruited them to help save Foxy.

afterwards, Foxy retired from sailing and he and Roxy joined Freddy's pack. After Freddy's pack meet "Cassie's dad" (a scholar from Hammerfell, studying the dwemer) , Cassie herself and Sun and Moon, he was offered a prosthetic hand made from dwemer machine parts.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Something New

Prompt: Any Au/God Of Storms Au

Words: 2,984

Characters: Maito Gai, OFC, Hatake Kakashi, OC: Hatake-Maito Nakano

For a week Gai had watched the new stretch of water that had appeared outside of his village the night before his wedding. He’d stared at it from his bedroom window, thankful that whatever it was it had decided to appear in a spot that was easy for him to see from the castle, and wondered just what it was.

There had been parties sent out to the location to check on it. Soldiers equipped with the best training and the strongest weapons, ready to face down a terrifying beast.

Yet, there was nothing.

No monsters lurking within the depths or enemy soldiers hiding away in the bushes waiting to attack.

According to every report he read, it was water.

Just water.

“You can’t be serious,” the queen protested even as she followed him toward the water. She’d tried her best to convince him not to go, but his curiosity was too strong.

For a week he’d watched as his soldiers and scholars examined the water, unable to follow them in case something was waiting to jump out and kill him. After a week and no answers, though, he’d finally had enough.

He wanted to see it for himself.

“You can go back.” he reminded her, though his fingers tightened around her hand as if to say ‘Please don’t leave.’ 

“What if there’s a monster?” she asked, her steps slowing as they inched closer to the water. “Something hiding inside of the water, waiting to attack.”

“The soldiers would have found it on their searches,” taking another step forward, he grimaced when a beam of sunlight bounced off of the water and struck him in the eye. “They went into the water searching. At least one of them would have been killed, or eaten.”

“Oh,” pulled herself into his side, and she shivered. “Don’t say such things. That’s horrible.”

That he could agree with. The mere thought of losing any of his people to a terrifying monster lurking in the water had haunted his dreams since the first day they noticed the water. Sometimes the dreams were vivid, and the person he was forced to watch being devoured by some terrifying creature was one of those precious people he loved more than anyone else.

Sometimes it was his old Sensei, Choza, who’d waded too far into the water and had been snatched up into jaws larger than the village walls. There’s nothing of him left, and the only sign that anything happened would be the ripples in the water.

Other times, it was his wife. The beautiful woman who he’d chosen as his bride, and who now stood by his side shivering in fear. There was a lot more blood in those dreams, with limbs strewn across the water’s surface.

Those were his least favorite nightmares. The ones that woke him up in the middle of the night dripping sweat and screaming into the air. Every time he’d had that nightmare he’d woken his Queen up and found himself lying about what had scared him so much.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to tell her off the horrors his brain had conjured up for him in his sleep.

The most confusing dream he had, though, included Kakashi.

A running theme of his life. Everything weird that seemed to happen around him had something to do with Kakashi or coincided with one of Kakashi’s visits. This mysterious water, for example, had arrived on the night before his wedding.

The night that he’d spent tangled in Kakashi’s arms enjoying one final bit of freedom to love without restriction before he would be married and crowned as the new King of his land. 

In the dreams that included Kakashi, there was no blood. No giant monster lurking in the water waiting to devour whoever dared to tread into its waters. 

When Kakashi was there, everything was silent and beautiful. Flowers were growing all along the water. Purples, yellows, pinks, and blues that swayed in the wind. The water was still and beautiful, sunlight sparkling on the surface.

And Kakashi, the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, standing in front of the water with a tender smile and his arms stretched open wide as if he were inviting Gai to join him. 

“Gai,” His Queen tugged on his arm, panic in her voice. “Gai, what is that?”

Glancing her way, he frowned when he saw her staring off into the distance. There was panic in her eyes with a bit of confusion mixed in. Curious, he turned his head to find what she was looking at.

That was the easy part.

His eyes located the object in an instant. A large tree standing directly beside the river with branches that reached over the water and long, dangling leaves that flowed down. Some of the leaves seemed to teach the water, causing ripples every time the wind moved them. 

It was a Tree he’d never seen before. Not even when he’d stared out at the water over the last week. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, taking a step toward the tree only to have his Queen pull him back. “I just want to see.”

“You don’t know what it is,” she insisted. “It could be a monster. Or a hiding place some enemies have created to lure you in.”

Raising a hand, he cupped her cheek and offered her a gentle smile. “I will be fine,” he assured her. 

“You don’t know that.” She argued, gripping his arm a little tighter. “We don’t know what any of this is.”

Glancing back at the tree, he felt his smile grow. Nothing around him made an sense. Long stretches of water didn’t appear out of thin air, and trees didn’t grow in an instant. Those were things that took time, often years, to form. 

Yet, here he was. Standing in front of a large line of water that flowed freely, with the most beautiful tree he’d ever seen in his life growing beside it, and rather than feeling terrified by their sudden appearance he felt calm.

Happy, even.

As if it was a place made just for him. The little getaway that he could enjoy at any time, even from the comfort of his bedroom. 

“I know.” he took one step forward and his Queen followed. Another step and she gripped his arm a bit tighter, but continued to follow. It continued like this for a third step and a fourth, and until they were standing directly under one of the tree branches. 

The wind blew at that moment and lifted the leaves, brushing them against his cheek lightly. His Queen screeched but then started to giggle when the leaves reached out to tickle her cheeks as well.

“It’s a gift,” he declared, his fingers reaching out to touch the leaves. As beautiful as they were, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness washing over him when his fingers first touched him. A sadness that seemed all too real, but which also came with a feeling of comfort that prevented him from pulling his hand away. 

Releasing her grip on his arm, his Queen gently brushed the leaves away from her face. “A gift?” she asked. “Who could give such a gift? And to whom?”

“Who could give such a gift?” he repeated, laughter bubbling in his chest. “Why,” turning around, he wrapped the leaves around his neck like a scarf and stuck a heroic pose while his Queen giggled. “The Gods of course. Only they could make something so beautiful.”

“The Gods?” she stepped past him and placed a hand against the Tree itself. “Why would the gods give such a gift?”

“They’re the gods,” he answered as if those three simple words explained everything. “As for who it’s for…”

“You.” The word tickled his ear. A light, sweet word that sent shivers down his spine. 

“Me?” he lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you think it’s for me?”

His Queen looked his way with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything, Love.”

“You didn’t?” He frowned. He was certain he’d heard someone speaking, but his Queen was the only one with him. “I must be hearing things.”

“Or,” dropping her hand from the Tree, she turned to face him. “They’re speaking to you.”

“Who?”

Rolling her eyes she stepped toward him and poked his chest. “The Gods, silly,” she answered. “You said this was a gift from them, right? Perhaps they’re trying to tell you who the gift is for.”

“For me?” He laughed. The thought was nice, but it seemed unlikely. “But why would the Gods give a gift to me?”

“Because you’re nice?” she answered as if it was the easiest question in the world. “And have you seen the festivals you organize for them? My own Kingdom has never had a single festival for the God of Storms, yet you put on three a year and they’re always the biggest celebrations. What God wouldn’t appreciate such devotion? The God of Storms isn’t even the main deity of your city and you put more effort into his festivals than you do for Hashirama. Why wouldn’t he want to give you something in return? A tree, no, a Willow Tree of your very own.”

Willow Tree.

The name sounded so perfect that Gai didn’t bother questioning it. From now on the Tree that sat next to the water with sadness so infused in it that its leaves drooped toward the water, would be known as the ‘Willow Tree’.

He’d make sure that was written down as soon as they got back to the castle. Now, though, he wanted to focus on the topic of his devotion to a certain God.

“That’s…well,” glancing back to the Tree, he couldn’t help but chuckle. What is Queen said was true, and it was a point of contention among his advisors who thought it disrespectful to put more effort into a secondary God’s festivals than the ‘King of the Gods’. Still, he did it every year. 

Not as an insult to the God Hashirama, but as Respect to the God of Storms.

“The God Kakashi must adore you,” His queen continued as she made her way to the waterside. 

Gai blinked. ‘Kakashi’ was a name he’d heard many times throughout his life, but never from someone else’s lips especially not with the word ‘God’ before it. For a moment he was certain he’d misheard her. There was no way she knew such a name when he’d only ever met one person who went by it. 

“What did you say?”

“Surprised?” she chuckled. “The God Kakashi must be pleased with all of the festivals you put on for him. It seems only right that he would want to repay your devotion with a gift.”

“The God Kakashi?”

“Of course!” Narrowing her eyes, his Queen frowned when she saw the confused expression on his face. “Is that not what you call him in your Kingdom?”

“No,” he answered with surprising ease. “We just…Are you speaking of the God of Storms?”

“Of course, I am,” doing a little twirl, she waved an arm toward the River. “A source of water right outside of the Kingdom,” turning slightly, she motioned toward the Tree. “A nice shady Tree to relax under. Both gifts would fit The God of Storms.”

“But you called him-”

“Kakashi,” she confirmed. “That’s how we refer to him back in my home. Why is that so weird to you?”

Thinking back over the years, Gai couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

From childhood, he’d always thought that his friend was just that. A friend who happened to vanish whenever someone else entered the room. Sneaky, quick thinking, always on the lookout for someone who may scold him for trying to keep company with the Prince.

In all of those years, he’d never thought this his friend, the boy he’d grown to love over the years, was one of the Gods. Not just any God either, but the God of Storms. The one who blessed Gai’s Kingdom, and the world, with cool rain which gave life to all of the world's plants. 

“That’s why…” tilting his head back, he stared up at the clouds. Clouds that he’d always enjoyed watching with Kakashi at his side, and which always seemed to be overflowing with rain whenever his friend was at his side.

“Love?” His Queen called out to him, her voice full of concern.

Pushing aside all of his thoughts, he focused his attention back on his queen and grinned. “Let’s have a picnic.”

“A- A picnic?” She blinked. “Now?”

“Of course!” Charging forward, he took hold of her hand and immediately started back toward the castle. “I’ll have the cooks make up a basket for us and we can enjoy it under the tree. It’ll show everyone that this can be a place for relaxing and fun!”

A Picnic, and then a visit to the palace gardens.

If he was lucky, he might find a particular God waiting for him under that beautiful Maple Tree where they’d wasted so many hours reading books and telling each other terrible jokes. 

Swimming up to the edge of the river, Nakano placed her arms on the grass and lifted herself out of the water. “You didn’t let Papa see you.”

“He wasn’t alone,” Her dad answered as he stepped up to her side. Tilting her head back, she grinned up at him. “I don’t want him trying to talk to me with others around. It would make him look-”

“Weird?”

His eyes lit up with excitement and joy. 

“Ya,” he answered with a fond chuckle. “That would be the word.”

“Well, I have some bad news for you,” kicking her feet up out of the water she watched as droplets flew into the air. “He is weird, and so are you.”

“Bad news for me?” Her dad laughed. “Oh, little one,” dropping a hand into her hair, he winked. “If that’s bad news for me, it must be terrible news for you.”

Thinking about it, Nakano sighed. 

One week ago she’d burst into existence, her water carving its way through the ground beside her Papa’s village to announce her arrival. Since that moment her dad had stayed with her, keeping her company as the village soldiers searched the water for dangers, and laughing whenever the scholars tried to come up with logical reasons for why this brand-new source of water had appeared out of nowhere.

“When can I meet him?” she asked, her eyes shining bright as she stared up at her dad. “And I mean properly meet him, not just see him.”

Seeing him was easy. She could do that at any time, and she’d even left her home with her dad a few times to visit her Papa’s castle. It wasn’t meeting him, though. No matter how many times she saw him, he still couldn’t see her.

A week she’d been around, and one of her parents didn’t even know she existed.

“Give it time,” her dad whispered. “Let them find out about you first. The stories won’t take long to spread once they start, and before you know it they’ll know your name.”

Nakano rolled her eyes. “Like Papa knew your name?”

“He does know my name,” her dad argued. “He just didn’t know that it also happened to be the name of a God. That’s not my fault.”

“Right,” hoping to her feet, she examined the edge of the water. There was grass everywhere, and the tree her dad had grown for her Papa and her to find shelter under when the sun was too bright, but nothing else. “I want to make something.”

“For?”

“Papa!” She grinned up at him. “Something that he’ll like so he’ll visit more often.”

“Something he’ll like, hmm?” cupping his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he thought for a moment. “He likes flowers and turtles.” 

“Oh!” doing a little twirl, just like the one she’d seen her Papa’s wife do, she squealed in excitement. “Yellow flowers! As bright as his smile, and as warm as your hug. They’ll smell beautiful and…”

Her words trailed off as she ran along the water, small yellow flowers growing whenever she stepped. Watching as she went, Kakashi smiled to himself. Just a week ago he’d prepared himself for a final goodbye as his lover made his way toward marriage. He’d never thought too much about what they were doing when they fell into bed together, or what might come out of it.

Everything had changed, though.

Kakashi had become a new person, finally finding himself and the body that he enjoyed being. Nakano had been created by the passion he’d shared with Gai, a perfect mixture of the two of them with her bushy silver eyebrows and blinding toothy grin. 

He’d expected sadness and crushing goodbyes, but instead, he’d been gifted with a beautiful energetic daughter who could run circles around him but who also loved to cuddle up against his side and listen to him reading his stories out loud. 

The least he could do for Gai after years of love, kindness, and support, was build him a tree. Even if the tree was something crafted using some of his sadness as the love he was giving up, it was still gorgeous.

A gift worthy of the man he loved, and one which he hoped would help Gai feel the love he had for him whenever he sat under it. 

“A Willow Tree,” he whispered, repeating the name that Gai’s Queen had tried giving his gift. “Sitting beside a River. How…perfect.”

The only thing left was to think up a name for the water that had been created with Nakano’s existence. The long, flowing stream that had opened from the ocean and continued to the dog’s leg pond that Kakashi called home.

[entomoblog]

Notre microbiote intestinal, cible collatérale des pesticides : focus sur les effets du chlorpyrifos, un insecticide qui a été largement utilisé dans l’agriculture durant plusieurs décennies

See on Scoop.it - EntomoNews

Le chlorpyrifos est interdit en Europe depuis 2020, mais il persiste dans les sols. Encore mal connus, ses effets sur la santé – et en particulier sur la flore intestinale – pourraient perdurer. Que faire ?

  Maria Abou Diwan, Université de Picardie Jules Verne (UPJV); Hafida Khorsi, Université de Picardie Jules Verne (UPJV) et Pietra Candela, Université d'Artois

  Publié: 15 janvier 2024, 17:43 CET

  [...]

  Chlorpyrifos et perturbation du microbiote intestinal

Des études récentes ont montré que l’ingestion, par des rates gestantes, d’aliments contenant des pesticides, et notamment du chlorpyrifos, a été associée à des altérations de la composition du microbiote intestinal.

Une diminution des populations de certaines bactéries bénéfiques et une augmentation d’espèces potentiellement pathogènes chez la mère et la descendance ont été observées. Parallèlement à ces conséquences microbiologiques, les résultats ont montré une perturbation du profil lipidique et glycémique par le chlorpyrifos, d’où son lien avec la survenue de l’obésité et du diabète de type 2.

  On l’a vu, notre microbiote intestinal est en dialogue constant avec notre organisme. Et notamment avec deux barrières fonctionnelles très importantes pour nous protéger des envahisseurs : la barrière intestinale et la barrière hémato-encéphalique, qui protège le cerveau. Cette connexion est définie comme l’axe microbiote-intestin-cerveau.

  Or, il a été démontré que le chlorpyrifos agit non seulement directement sur le système nerveux, mais qu’il perturbe aussi l’environnement microbien de l’intestin. Ce qui a des conséquences qui dépassent notre seul tube digestif."

(...)

  [Image] Le chlorpyrifos épandu sur les cultures peut se retrouver dans notre organisme. Crédit : Maria Abou Diwan

  -------

NDÉ

D'autres études récentes

Nanosize design of carbon dots, graphene quantum dots, and metal–organic frameworks based sensors for detection of chlorpyrifos in food and water: A review

MR Mahajan, SN Nangare, PO Patil - Microchemical Journal, 2023 - Elsevier

Chlorpyrifos (CPS) is a pesticide that is extensively used in agriculture. Despite their significant advantages in agriculture, small amounts of CPS in food and water have serious …

  Modeling of Cu, Ag, and Au-decorated Al12Se12 nanostructured as sensor materials for trapping of chlorpyrifos insecticide

MA Akpe, H Louis, TE Gber, CM Chima… - Computational and …, 2023 - Elsevier

… Although Chlorpyrifos which is also called chlorpyrifos ethyl … and sense the presence of  Chlorpyrifos Insecticide (CPI) in the … From this study, the Cl site of Chlorpyrifos Insecticide (CPI) …

  Impact of Chlorpyrifos on Cytopathological Indices in Mangrove Crab, Episesarma tetragonum (Fabricius)

R Ravi, M Athisuyambulingam, S Kanagaraj… - Veterinary …, 2023 - mdpi.com

… was to see how chlorpyrifos, an … chlorpyrifos, respectively. The gills, hepatopancreas, and muscles were examined for cytopathological effects. The findings indicate that chlorpyrifos …

  Study on the effective removal of chlorpyrifos from water by dielectric barrier discharge (DBD) plasma: The influence of reactive species and different water …

Z Xu, X Chen, X Jin, S Hu, Y Lan, W Xi, W Han… - Chemical Engineering …, 2023 - Elsevier

… chlorpyrifos in water were investigated, and the relevant mechanism of plasma for the degradation of chlorpyrifos … for 10 min, 20 mg/L chlorpyrifos is almost completely degraded and its …

  Voir

chlorpyrifos - Google Scholar https://scholar.google.com/scholar?as_ylo=2023&q=chlorpyrifos&hl=en&num=20&as_sdt=0,5

  Bernadette Cassel's insight:

https://www.scoop.it/topic/entomonews?q=chlorpyrifos

[cinlat]

Listen, this just kind of happened, and I 100% blame @dimigex and @tishinada But, I mean, who can refuse Haurchefant?!?

Kirin flopped down on the blanket with a groan and eyed the picnic basket. “Ye bring the ale?” It had been a hellish week on the sands, and this break was sorely needed.

“Of course,” Isashi answered in a more chipper tone than he’d ever heard. Sure, the woman had her giggle fits like every other lass, but the more deeply rooted into the Scions she became, the sterner her countenance grew. This was...unusual.

Kirin accepted the proffered bottle and eyed his friend. “So, what’s yer deal.” He popped the top and took a long swig without looking at the label. True to form, it was his favorite brand. Kirin smacked his lips and looked at the woman again. “An why’r ye butter’n me up.”

“I need a favor.” Isashi dug through the basket and pulled out a sandwich, offering it to Kirin with a broad smile that could have shamed the sun. 

Slowly, Kirin accepted the food, but he didn’t eat. “Aye?”

Isashi’s smile turned brittle, and her cheek twitched. Kirin held the silence, unwrapping the sandwich and taking an intentional bite. Finally, Isashi’s shoulder lifted and dropped in a sigh. “I’m getting married.” 

Kirin stopped mid-chew and almost let his mouth fall open. He swallowed hard while she barreled on. Now that the words were out, she didn’t seem capable of stopping the rest. “I met him in Coerthas six months ago. He’s commander of Camp Dragonhead, a really great man. I think you two would get along, I want you to meet him before the wedding and maybe, you know, walk me down the aisle?” The last bit was delivered with less enthusiasm than the rest, and Kirin grinned at the sheepish delivery.

Taking another bite, Kirin leaned back on one hand, swallowed, and reached for his ale. “So…” He dragged the word out until Isashi rolled her eyes. “Ye’ve finally found a man with the balls to handle you. What’s his name?”

Isashi’s lips curled, but Kirin’s jab didn’t steal the sparkle from her eyes. “Haurchefant Greystone.”

The ale solidified in Kirin’s throat, launching him forward while his lungs tried to expel the blockage. Isashi was there, pounding on his back while tears trailed down his cheeks. At last, Kirin managed to draw enough breath to convince the Au Ra lass that he would survive. She settled on her knees with her head tilted. “Do you know him?”

Kirin’s voice rasped when he answered. “Aye, I know him.” He wiped his hand across his mouth and set the bottle aside. Memories of warm hands and soft chuckles in front of a crackling fire surged to the front of Kirin's thoughts. Clearing his throat, Kirin found that he couldn’t meet his friend's eyes. “Elezen bloke, white hair?”

Isashi nodded, and Kirin coughed to buy himself time. A sharp prod to his shoulder indicated that Isashi wasn't fooled. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

Kirin shrugged and searched the ground for anything to distract the woman with. Isashi slouched on her heels, and Kirin didn’t have to look at her to know that her mouth hung open. “Oh gods.” Isashi’s breathed curse made Kirin flinch. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Listen,” Kirin blurted, then it was him who couldn’t stop the flood of explanations. “It’s all Baderon’s fault. I was escort’n a group of scholars up te Ishgard and we stopped at Camp Dragonhead and it was cold, ye see. Damn Baderon told me Coerthas was a balmy temperature, and that I should dress for the weather. So, I wore me new kilt, ye see—”

“Oh gods,” Isashi repeated, face in her hands. “That bloody thing that you strutted around in for months? That kilt? What the bloody hells were you thinking?”

Kirin knew the right answer, but he shrugged and offered a grin that was liable to get him slapped. “I mean, it was worth it.”

“Oh gods.” Isashi’s latest exclamation bubbled up on an unexpected laugh. “So, my best friend slept with my husband, is that what you’re telling me?”

“He ain’t yer husband yet,” Kirin argued, then braced for the smack he knew would come. “I mean, it was a couple of years ago.”

Isashi stared at Kirin, her face frozen in comedically wide orientation. Then, she burst into a fit of laughter so violent that Kirin’s ribs ached from the thought of joining her. When she pulled herself together, Isashi wiped a tear from her eye and flopped back on the blanket. 

Hesitantly, Kirin rocked forward to lay on his stomach, but kept out of reach in case she decided to smack him for the alleged infidelity of her not quite husband. “Listen, Sashi—”

“I can’t wait for dinner tomorrow,” Isashi interrupted. Kirin waited for her to lift her head, and found the devilish grin he’d been dreading. “That was the favor, dinner tomorrow in Camp Dragonhead. I wanted you to meet him. Now that I know you have, I can’t wait to see how this all plays out.”

Kirin hissed and flattened his ears, but it had no effect on his friend. Refusing to let Isashi have the upper hand, he offered a wide grin that flashed his fangs. “Can I wear me kilt?”

[maddiesbookshelves]

La Quête d'Ewilan #1-3 by Pierre Bottero (March 2021)

Camille is a gifted teen whose life changes when she accidentally stumbles into the wold of Gwendalavir with her friend Salim. There, frightening creatures called Ts'liches identify her as Ewilan and try to kill her. Originally from this world, she inherited a prodigious gift that could prove to be a deciding instrument in her people's fight for power, freedom and dignity. Aided in her quest by the General of the Imperial Army and an old scholar, will Camille be able to save her home country?

Would I recommend it to anyone? Absolutely, yes, those books are some of my favorites partly because of the nostalgia but also because the story is amazing.

Level of (dis)satisfaction based on the summary and my expectations? The very first time I read those books, I liked them way less than I do now. Now when I re-read them, I see the flaws, the small issues with Salim's character (the only Black character, Ellana is only described as dark-skinned) and the writing style isn't as beautiful and poetic as it is in later series, but that doesn't stop me from loving them.

My thoughts on it? I had read Le Pacte des Marchombres a few years before I picked up La Quête d'Ewilan and they'd had a huge impact on me: the writing, the characters, the world, the action... So I was slightly underwhelmed by Ewilan's adventures, which are tamer than Ellana's. After a few dozen re-readings, I tried reading La Quête again, then I discovered Les Mondes d'Ewilan and I think that's when I became addicted to Pierre Bottero's universe. I continued discovering it with L'Autre, then Les Ames Croisées and even today I keep discovering links and small details between all the books that I hadn't noticed before.

In the end, eventhough I think Le Pacte is vastly superior to all the others, La Quête still holds a special place in my heart.

Andarta Pictures is currently working on an animated adaptation of those books (and hopefully the others if the project is successful) so please go give them some love on Twitter or Instagram. Thank you!

French version under the cut

La vie de Camille, adolescente surdouée, bascule quand elle pénètre par accident dans l'univers de Gwendalavir avec son ami Salim. Là, des créatures menaçantes, les Ts'liches, la reconnaissent sous le nom d'Ewilan et tentent de la tuer. Originaire de ce monde, elle est l'héritière d'un don prodigieux, le Dessin, qui peut s'avérer une arme décisive dans la lutte de son peuple pour reconquérir pouvoir, liberté et dignité. Epaulée par le maître d'armes de l'empereur et un vieil érudit, Camille parviendra-t-elle à sauver son pays d’origine ?

Est-ce que tu le conseillerais à quelqu’un ? Absolument, ces livres font partis de mes livres préférés en partie par nostalgie mais aussi parce que l'histoire est géniale.

Niveau de déception/satisfaction par rapport au résumé et tes attentes ? La toute première fois que j'ai lu ces livres, j'ai beaucoup moins aimé que maintenant. Maintenant quand je les relis je vois les défauts, les petits problèmes du personnage de Salim (seul personnage Noir, Ellana n'est décrite que comme mate de peau) et le style d'écriture est pas aussi beau et poétique que dans les séries sorties après, mais ça m'empêche pas de les adorer.

Avis sans spoiler ? J’avais lu Le Pacte des Marchombres quelques années avant de lire La Quête d'Ewilan et ils avaient eu un sacré impact sur moi : l’écriture, les personnages, l’univers, l’action… Du coup, j’ai été moins impressionnée par les aventures d’Ewilan, très soft en comparaison de celles d’Ellana. Après quelques dizaines de relectures du Pacte, j’ai relu La Quête, puis j’ai découvert Les Mondes d'Ewilan et je crois que c’est à partir de là que je suis devenue accro à tout l’univers de Pierre Bottero. J’ai continué à le découvrir avec L’Autre puis Les Ames Croisées et je continue aujourd’hui encore à découvrir des liens ou des détails que j’avais pas remarqués avant entre toutes les séries.

Du coup, même si je trouve les livres du Pacte bien supérieurs aux autres, La Quête a quand même une place particulière dans mon cœur.

Andarta Pictures est en train de travailler sur une adaptation animée de ces livres (et des autres si le projet a du succès) alors allez leur donner de l'amour sur Twitter ou Instagram. Merci !

[pierdutaintimpsispatiu]

Vladbruarie day 17

ziua 17: e-n zori, e frig de toamnă (it's dawn, it's autumn cold) || învățăcel sub Iancu (scholar under Iancu Huneade)

@vladbruarie

E-n zori, e frig de toamnă

Un vânticel parcă și el împietrit de gravitatea momentului se zbătea peste culmi, printre frunze și se strecura atent să nu deranjeze mulțimea adunată. Cerul se descrețea din negură, rând pe rând urcând norii rozalii spre boltă, trăgând soarele de-un portocaliu aprins după ei.

Și cât cu ochii vezi

Vlad stătea nemișcat. Singur în vârf de deal. Privea-n gios la Biserica doldora de oameni. N-avu inimă să se ducă și el. Auzea cântarea preotului, dar nu făcea niciun gest cum c-ar înțelege.

Se-ncolăcește fumul

Mișca numai din mustață când fumul gros, pare-se, îi ajungea la nas și-l înțepa în ochi. De ar fi fost Paștele copilăriei, măcar să plângă de fericire! Dar era noembrie. Luminația. Prima când își îngâna toată familia în fața lumânării aprinse. Toată familia și dragostea și prietenia.

Și-i pâclă prin livezi.

Armata de lumânări din cemetir arunca peste gospodării o umbră gri, înecăcioasă. De putea s-o atingă aievea, nu alta. Precum erau și gândurile domnitorului după lunga campanie cu greu câștigată.

Răsună, trist, de glasuri,

Sătenii murmurau cântece morților și popa ținea Sfânta slujbă, răgușit, cât de tare putea. Și copii plângeau și cânii-și urlau stăpânii nevăzuți. Și Vlad, singur, nemișcat, vărsa câte o lacrimă pentru fiecare cruce din curtea Bisericii.

Câmpiile pustii –

În vale, până și iarba se închise la culoare. Să poarte și ea doliu, se cerni în verde ud, umbrit. Flăcările lumânărilor pâlpâiau sub atingerea vântului acum încrezător. Dar nu se stingeau. Miasmă de tămâie și flori perechi pe morminte se ridica în aer, dulceag și amărui.

Și pocnet lung și chiot

În vale, oamenii aduceau pomană sufletelor plecate, alinându-se cu povești și amintiri. Sus pe deal, Vlad privea distras. Nicioadată nu l-a lovit 'ntr-atât sărbătoarea. Luminația: flăcări aprinse pentru memorii și umbre trecătoare. Motiv reamintirii și îmbălsămării în totalitatea durerii. Un ecou vizual umbrind pentru o zi chiar viața.

Se aude-n deal la vii.

Totuși, oamenilor le plăcea Luminația. Să-i simtă aproape pe cei dragi din nou. Să ude pământul cu lacrimi și cu apă sa bea și ei. Să se plimbe prin trecut, cu flori și lumânări. Vlad îi vedea pe toți pierduți printre cei vii. Pe cei pe care nu i-a salvat, pe cei de-a căror pierdere e vinovat, pe cei răpuși de boală și neajuns când a eșuat în ce și-a propus. Și nu putea să se bucure de ziua cea specială. Nu voia să se lase să cadă-n visare. Ce i-ar fi zis ai lui? I-a dezamăgit?

C-un zmeu, copiii-aleargă,

Mai mult ca niciodată, în zile ca acestea îmbătrânea o oră cât alții într-un an. Era obosit de lupte, de decizii. Își dorea copilăria, s-o repete c-ar fi apreciat-o mai mult. Să nu se termine.

Copil ca ei te vezi

Ar fi stat mereu în umbra lu' tătâne-su, chiar de l-ar fi supărat. Ar fi stat la picioarele mamei când broda, jos pe covor în fața focului, și nu s-ar fi plictisit. Ar fi insistat mereu să se joace afară, fie el și bolnav de friguri sau fierbând a febră.

Și plângi... și-i frig de toamnă

S-au dus toate și cu toții. Doar el a mai rămas la sfârșit. Singur, cu un singur scop greu de-ndeplinit.

Și-i pâclă prin livezi.

Fumul lumânărilor îl deranja din nou. Vlad ridică mâinile-napre față și-și împunse ochii cu podul palmelor. Ofta. Ei, ei, ei, ce-i viața!

[theflowercrownlady]

Writers Month 2021 #30 - Trees

Writers Month (August) 2021

Day #30

Word: Tree | Setting: Band AU

Fandom: TES V: Skyrim

Characters: Fem!Dragonborn, Inigo (our purple-bluish cat), Lucien (imperial goofball), and Kharjo.

Rating: K

“Trees, trees… One, singular tree... And oh, look!” Lucien exclaimed suddenly. “More trees.”

“Lucien”, The Dragonborn said, making an effort to keep her voice calm; although she couldn’t help her tail swinging in annoyance, “Could you please-- stop.”

“She is right, Lucien” Inigo interceded. “We’ve had it worse than this. I thought you were used to this already. ”

The group included four people: The Dragonborn, Inigo and Kharjo were all khajiits; but the only human was an imperial scholar, named Lucien-- who was currently suffering from a very bad case of a sickness known as common cold.

“This doesn’t seem very common”, he said. “I mean, just look at my nose!”

“I don’t think anyone wants to look at that, my friend”, Inigo pointed out.

They had been travelling for more than a week now, without encountering not even one single house or village in their way. The whole ordeal had dampened Lucien’s spirits a bit, and he snorted at hearing Inigo. But Inigo’s words held no ill will at all, and he smiled a little, seeing his friend looking so down.

“I am sorry”, Lucien said.

“I am sorry, too.”

The Dragonborn, named Zireli, pointed a finger behind her. “Kharjo has a cold too.”

They turned to look at him, who bravely kept walking just behind them, unable to hide his runny nose.

“Kharjo is an entirely different species,” Lucien replied. “All of you. Literally. I am just getting the hang of it, all of this… mercenary, explorer business.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Inigo assured him. “You spend so much time with us, when you least expect it, you will sprout big, fluffy ears...”

“And a tail to go with, I expect?”

“Yes! You get the idea.”

Zireli shook her head, sending a glance towards Kharjo. “Are you doing okay, Kharjo?”

“I am doing alright”, he responded, calmly. “I thank you for asking.”

“See? He is strong” Inigo said. “We cannot be much further from our destination. I can feel it. Hang in there, Lucien.”

“Just a while longer, Lucien.” Zireli said.

“Just a few more trees, Lucien.”

They turned their heads towards Kharjo, whose eyes seemed to smile, even though his lips barely moved. Zireli felt a smile forming on her face, while Inigo chuckled and Lucien let out an open laugh, although it cost him a few moments of cough.

They saw a lot more trees before arriving at their destination, but Lucien did not complain again.

[my-arlington-academia]

Claire gilets jaunes AU fic 🦺

Hey guys... I’m so sorry this is the first thing I write when I come back dbhedjdheudh

It’s a joke fic... IN FRENCH!!!

Claire invites her friends to her parents' villa in France but at the same time, protests start in the streets of Paris.

Normally, my vocabulary should be more developed in French so let’s see how that turns out 😂

(If you guys don’t know what "gilets jaunes" are... look it up, especially on youtube ajvrhdjrhhfhdhd)

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

Cela faisait déjà quelques jours maintenant que Claire avait invité ses amis dans la villa de ses parents, située dans la banlieue parisienne. Ils en avaient également près de la mer méditerranée, à Marseille et Nice, mais la majorité du groupe a voté pour un séjour à Paris. Claire attendait impatiemment le reste du groupe, elle avait bien sûr envoyé des majordomes et chauffeurs à l’aéroport pour les derniers arrivants: Karolina et Tegan. Tyler surtout, se tortillait, excité de revoir son meilleur ami malgré le fait que cela ne faisait que quelques semaines qu’ils ne s’étaient plus vus. Scholar et Alistair de leur côté étaient plutôt nerveux, ils savaient que le reste du groupe a voté pour Paris seulement parce qu’ils n’y avaient jamais été. Karolina elle, il n’y avait pas de doute, était enragée à l’idée de passer une semaine dans la région de l'île-de-France au lieu de la côte d’Azur. Et en effet, elle à remis ses idées sur la table en arrivant... même si tout le monde savait déjà exactement ce qu’elle pensait.

"J’arrive pas à CROIRE que vous avez voté pour Paris, c’est la ville la plus surcotée de l’Europe! Je sais que vous avez fait ça pour Alistair et Scholar mais vous abusez, on aurait pu être sous le soleil de juillet à Marseille et à la place on a quoi? Des rues qui sentent la pisse et une tour."

Tegan et Tyler se sont regardé... puis ils se sont souris d’un sourire qui ne dit rien qui aille. Tegan a attrapé sa sœur par ses bras et Tyler par ses jambes. Raquel, comprenant ce qui était en train de se passer, ouvra rapidement la porte du jardin. En un flash, Tegan et Tyler ont jeté Karolina dans la piscine. Les deux amis se tordaient de rire avant que Tyler se reprenne, Tegan lui, rigolait si fort qu’il faisait des bruits digne d’un dauphin.

"On s’excuse votre Altesse Karolina du Royaume de Prague. Mais puis-je dire que vous êtes incroyablement ravissante sous ce soleil de juillet?"

"Tyler, je te jure qu’un jour je vais te niquer ta-"

"Sssshhhh! Pas de gros mots jeune fille. Si tu restes calme je t’inviterait à San Francisco."

Ça a pris tout le sang-froid du monde à Karolina pour qu’elle se retienne de lui attraper la jambe et de le lancer dans la piscine à son tour. Elle savait que son mascara avait coulé, ces merdes ont toujours la mention "waterproof" mais ne le sont jamais. Par complicité, Neha se lança de son plein grès dans la piscine, éclaboussant Tegan et Tyler au passage. Après quelques minutes, elles se sont toutes les deux relevés, en direction de la salle de bain pour prendre une douche et se débarrasser de la puanteur insupportable du chlore. Pendant ce temps, Tyler mettait du Maître Gims sur son baffle.

"Woooooooo!!! Il faut qu’on se mette dans le mood français! Soyez pas timides!!! C’ÉTAIT UN PHÉNOMÈNE, ELLE N’ÉTAIT PAS HUMAINE, LE GENRE DE FEMME QUI CHANGE LE PLUS GRAND DÉLINQUENT EN GENTLEMEN-"

Il chantait assez bien les paroles, Tyler ne mentait pas quand il disait qu’il a un bon niveau en français. Claire s’est retenue de dire à Tyler que plus personne n’écoutait du Maître Gims ces derniers temps. Les chansons étaient aussi bien qu’avant mais comme tous les artistes, il avait déjà connu son moment de gloire. Maintenant les francophones n’écoutaient plus que Angèle, Niska et... non en fait Claire n’en était pas sûre non plus. Elle n’était pas du genre à suivre les médias, qui sait? Peut-être que Gims était revenu sur le devant de la scène et elle n’en avait aucune idée. Tout allait parfaitement bien avant qu'Axel tourne l’attention du groupe vers la télé que personne ne semblait regarder. Sur l’écran, il y avait une horde de gens qui lançait des pierres sur des voitures de police. Claire les reconnu tout de suite.

"Ah! C'est les gilets jaunes. Ils font la grève contre euh... Macron. Mais je sais pas trop ce qui se passe dans les détails, désolé..."

À ce moment précis, Neha et Karolina sont sorties de la douche. Est-ce qu’elles avaient pris la douche ensemble...? Qui sait. En tout cas, Karolina n’était pas ravie.

"Ah mais c'est super. Donc non seulement nous sommes à Paris mais en plus les rues seront pleines de manifestants? C’est merveilleux. J’aurai encore préféré aller à Bruxelles pour manger des gaufres sous la pluie."

Heureusement (ou malheureusement), Raquel eut une idée. Un petit peu à côté de la plaque mais merveilleuse quand même.

"Et si... on allait manifester aussi?"

Les yeux de Claire se sont illuminés, elle n’avait jamais osé le dire, mais au fond d’elle le sang d’une française bouillonnait de l’envie de tabasser la gueule de la police avec des cailloux. C'était pas très orthodoxe mais elle ne pouvait ignorer ses instincts naturels. La haine envers le gouvernement était gravé dans son ADN... oui, la France... ce pays magnifique où les gens au pouvoir se font décapiter.

"Oui!!! Enfin... Je veux dire... ça pourrait être chouette. Si on marche à travers Paris avec le point de vue d’un touriste, ça va vite devenir un inconvénient. Mais si on décide de faire parti des manifestants... Ça pourrait non seulement aider le peuple français mais en plus on pourra profiter de notre séjour au maximum!!!"

Vue le ton qu’elle prenait, c'était clair que Claire s’en battait les couilles du peuple. Elle voulait juste péter la gueule d’un policier. Tadashi n’était cependant pas convaincu de cette idée. Il a donc demandé de faire un vote à main levé et bien sûr, la majorité était pour.

"Bon... Je vois que vous voulez absolument foutre la merde partout où vous allez donc je veux bien mettre un gilet jaune mais je refuse de participer à la grève. Je resterai derrière la foule."

Ne perdant pas de temps, Axel lui rétorqua son commentaire comme d’habitude.

"Et c'est toi qui dit ça, Tas-de-merde? Si je connais quelqu’un qui aime foutre la merde, c'est bien toi mon pote."

"Je suis pas ton "pote" Axel. Et non, je ne fous pas la merde, je vous tiens juste à carreaux. C'est tout."

"Ah ouais? Tu vas nous mettre des colles en France aussi?"

Si ça continue comme ça, c'est Tadashi qui va se faire exécuter. Son tempérament et son envie de maîtriser tout autour de lui pourrait ultimement mener à sa fin si il vivait en France.

"Enfin bref, si Tadachieur vient, tout le monde vient. Pas d’excuses."

Claire a demandé aux chauffeurs de les déposer non loin des Champs-Elysées, ils se sont facilement procurés des gilets jaunes, certains manifestants en donnaient même gratuitement. Quant aux Champs-Elysées... c'était le carnage. Des milliers de gens qui se lancent sur les policiers, détruisent les panneaux, les lampadaires, les voitures, tout. Du coin de l’œil, il y avait parfois des explosions non loin de l’avenue. Dans la folie du moment, Claire et ses amis se sont mis au boulot.

Tegan montait sur des lampadaires avec l’aide des ouvriers qui manifestaient, ils avaient des camions et des échelles. Il prenait des photos de la pagaille et quand il est redescendu, il a hacké quelques sites du gouvernement français, il y mettait les photos qu’il a pris avec le hashtag "PoliceLivesDon’tMatter."

Tyler pendant ce temps, est devenu ami avec des artistes de rues, il commença à taguer des belles grosses bites sur les murs des bâtiments.

Karolina et Neha rentraient illégalement dans des bâtiment à travers les vitres cassées pour admirer les architectures haussmanniennes. Elles ont commencé à prendre des photos pour leurs instagrams avec leurs gilets jaunes. Karolina s’est accroupie sur une des photos, prenant la pose stéréotypée des barakis slaves.

Axel avait emprunté une guitare et un micro à l’un des manifestant, il chantait "AUXXXXX CHAMPS-ELYSÉÉÉÉES!!!" du haut d’une voiture comme un dingue. Des centaines de personnes l’ont rejoint. Ce concert improvisé était finalement devenu la chanson des gilets jaune.

Ellie, avec l’assistance de quelques ouvriers, avait réussi à mettre en panne les voitures des policiers. Elle a ensuite rejoint le tas de gens en lançant des pierres sur les voitures immobiles. Les manifestants étaient très contents de son intervention, ils l’ont alors porté sur leurs épaules pour qu’elle puisse mieux lancer les pierres. Ils pensaient sûrement que c'était une enfant de 12 ans mais qu’importe...

Alistair et Raquel utilisaient leurs arts martiaux sur les policiers. C'était enfin temps de voir si ces techniques fonctionnent dans une vraie bagarre. Coach D avait une fois dit "n’utilisez pas votre force dans un combat sans un arbitre" mais il avait TORT. Péter la gueule d’un policier était bien mieux que de protéger des valeurs inutiles.

Scholar de son côté ne savait pas trop quoi faire alors elle filmait la scène du haut d’un bâtiment pour envoyer la vidéo à son père et ses amis. Elle y faisait ses propres commentaires, surtout quand elle zoomait sur le match de Raquel et Alistair contre les policiers français.

"Du taekwondo?! Non, du judo!?!? AAAAAHH! C’EST DU MMA!!!"

Tadashi regardait la scène partir en flammes... littéralement. Il voulait appeler la police mais le seul problème était que la police était DÉJÀ là. Ils étaient impuissants devant la rage du peuple, c'était un combat perdu d’avance... Et puis merde. Tadashi est rentré dans des supermarchés ravagés, voulant vider les caisses. Un petit cambriolage n’a jamais fait de mal a personne.

Sortant d’un des bâtiments en feu, c'était Claire avec une bouteille d’alcool et des allumettes. Malheureusement, elle ne savait pas où se procurer des bouteilles d’essence. Elle en demanda plusieurs à un de ses majordomes. Claire s’est trouvée un nouveau passe-temps favori: provoquer des incendies!!! Voir les bâtiments partir en flammes lui donnait l’impression d’être en 1789, la révolution française! Wow! Un moment historique était en train de se produire devant ses yeux! Bientôt des véhicules avec le logo de "France 24" sont venus sur place pour filmer ce chaos. Ils étaient sûrement en direct. Claire s’avança d’un pas décidé vers la femme qui parlait devant la caméra et elle lui arracha le micro des mains.

"HÉ MACRON TU M’ENTENDS? APRÈS AVOIR BAISÉ TA COUGUAR DE PROF TU BAISES LA FRANCE MAINTENANT?! TU VAS VOIR ON VA T’ENCULER MON POTE. T'AURAS TELLEMENT MAL AU CUL QUE TU POURRAS PLUS DE RELEVER À CAUSE DES RECTORRAGIES."

Claire renda poliment le micro à la femme qui était dans un état second après s’étre faite niqué les tympans.

"J’adore votre manteau! Vous l’avez acheté à H&M?"

"Non... À Bershka..."

Claire s’aperçu du fait que ses majordomes revenaient avec des bidons d’essences et elle s’éclipsa aussitôt.

"Woah! C’est merveilleux. Passez une bonne journée!"

Il était peut-être grand temps d’aller brûler la Mairie.

[flying-elliska]

Fyi I wrote another thing for @all-the-wr0ng-places 's b-day 🎂💛☀️

It's yet another Elu AU, les etoiles dans tes yeux, which takes place in a sort of medieval fantasy universe. Lucas is a disgraced student/scholar who arrives in an isolated village and learns about strange happenings without a rational explanation. Eliott is an outcast with a connection to the nearby forest and who may or may not be a witch... they meet and well...things happen.

This one is planned to be short and fun, give it a look if you think you could like 😁

[eldritchborn]

“&– - I mean you no harm. I hold not allegiance to the Great Eye anymore.... or any Prince for that matter. All I wish to do is remain on Nirn- so I may study not from books but from people and from the life that grows upon this realm.” // open Seeker!Omeluum starter

[skymagpie]

The two Bazhita story outcomes:

Canonical Ending - Everybody lives (courtesy to @saisahan): Iachesis doesn’t actually die, Leythen persuades Veya to switch sides and they both survive and also Darien is fine and alive at the end of it. Iachesis steps down due to feeling that it’s his fault for the events that transpired and that he is no longer fit to lead the Psijics and cannot make the right decisions, so he appoints Valsirenn Ritemaster until a better person is chosen and decides to just live the rest of his days as a scholar. He however gives Bazhita the grey cloak and makes her a fully realized Psijic and she continues to help him around Artaeum, help the now Ritemaster Valsirenn and travel around Nirn and Tamriel in search for new adventures (with Gyn if they want!) 

Everybody dies Angst AU (not canon): Iachesis, Leythen, Darien and Veya all die, and Bazhita is heartbroken and doesn’t want to be in Artaeum anymore. She returns for Valsirenn who is left without her husband and her best friend but also the Psijics who have no leader, only to help her lead as Ritemaster in Iachesis’s place. Valsirenn holds a memorial for Leythen and for Iachesis and on it she gives Bazhita the grey cloak and makes her a fully realized Psijic since that’s what Iachesis would’ve wanted. Bazhita continues to help on Artaeum however in TES people that are dead are seldom truly gone and she often talks to the spirits of Iachesis and Leythen and much like in life, they guide her even from beyond the grave. 

[jewouj]

Notable reference: The Rights to Live Creatively”– Queer Thriving, Artistic Expression, and the Politics of Visibility in Haiti

——

Kreyòl:

TIT GWOUP TRAVAY LA

Dwa pou Viv Kreyativman: Kominote M, Ekspresyon Atistik, ak Politik Vizibilite an Ayiti

POUKISA NOU RASANBLE

Etan done lamò Charlot Jeudy, korisyon nan sistèm jiridik Ayiti, ak vyolans ki sible LGBTI/masisi/madivin/MSM, moun ki pa konfòme yo ak nòm seksyèl/sèks, ak Vodwizan, Gwoup Travay sa a konvoke pou diskite ak mobilize sou kesyon “dwa pou vivi kreyativman.” Rasanbleman sa a pral kolektivize angajman nou pou transfere resous/privilèj/zefò ki soti Etazini pou apiye militan ak atis Kominote M yo an Ayiti.

Se yon gwoup entelektyèl ki baze Etazini (an kolaborasyon avèk yon atis Kominote M la ki baze an Ayiti), ki te vle kreye de relasyon pi sere ant resous enstitisyonèl nou yo/zefò akademik yo ak Ayisyen/Ayisyèn yo ki enspire nou e ki kolabore avèk nou, ki konvoke gwoup travay sa a, pou devlope metòd ak pratik ki apiye militan, atis, ak Kominote M la k ap goumen chak jou kont yon latriye atak sou egzistans yo menm. Atravè diskisyon konsantre ak atelye avèk entelektyèl akk pratikan ki baze Etazini ak Ayiti, ansanm nou pral kreye yon dyalòg ak elabore entèvansyon ki santre sou kesyon ki swiv yo, ak objektif doub ki se pataje estrateji ak kreye pwen aksyon:

Kijan entelektyèl ak chachè ta ka konekte Haitian Studies nan akademi Meriken ak kominote an Ayiti yo ki enspire travay nou yo?

Nan ki fason domèn nou yo kapab aliyen ak bezwen, dezi, ak imajinasyon Kominote M ak pratikan kreyatif yo?

Kijan travay nan kowalisyon kapab ogmante ak dirije resous ak enstitisyon Etazini yo apiye inisyativ pou Ayiti oswa inisyativ Ayisyen/Ayisyèn ap dirije?

Nan travay nou, ak kisa metodoloji dekolonizatris yo sanble? Kijan nou santi metodoloji dekolonizatris yo nan kò nou? Kijan metodoloji dekolonizatris yo aji?

Kisa nou ka aprann nan pwojè – atravè rechèch, ansèyman, ak domèn piblik – ki deja devlope de pratik angaje ak refleksif ki pa reyifye fwontyè jeopolitik, men pito ki kreye koneksyon ki ranplase oswa febli divizyon sa yo?

Ki fwotman, tansyon, ak enjistis nou kontre nan travay angaje, e kijan nou ka elabore estrateji pou adrese oswa pase atravè yo?

English version

CONVENERS

Josué Azor is a Photographer based in Port-au-Prince who has been traveling around Haiti since 2008 to merge his passion for photography and his appreciation of Haitian practices. His first series on Vodou Roots was presented in Haïti, Italy, Benin and Burkina Faso (Fespaco). Over the past five years, Josué has been exploring the night in Port-au-Prince and the LGBTI community in Noctambules. His project has been exhibited regularly in Haiti and Internationally. He is also a member of Kolektif 2 dimansyon, K2D, a collective of young Haitian photographers based in Haiti dedicated to photojournalism and visual arts.

Dasha Chapman (Ph.D. Performance Studies, NYU) is an interdisciplinary dancer-scholar whose research, teaching, and performance work in critical dance studies moves through a nexus of African diaspora theory, performance studies, ethnography, queer/gender studies, and Caribbean thought. Her writing appears or is forthcoming in The Black Scholar, Journal of Haitian Studies, Theater Research International, Dance Chronicle, Theatre Journal, and Women & Performance: a journal of feminist theory. Chapman also devises collaborative site-specific performance work that activates submerged history in both Haiti and the U.S. Currently, Chapman is Visiting Assistant Professor of Dance at Davidson College.

Erin Durban is an assistant professor in the Department of Anthropology at the University of Minnesota–Twin Cities, affiliated with Gender, Women, Sexuality Studies and American Studies. They are an interdisciplinary scholar who is the former managing editor of Feminist Formations and has publications in Women & Performance, Feminist Formations, Transgender Studies Quarterly, The Journal of Haitian Studies, American Ethnologist, The Feminist Wire, The Arizona Journal of Hispanic Cultural Studies, and Anthropology News. Durban’s book, “The Sexual Politics of Empire: An Ethnography of Postcolonial Homophobia in Haiti,” focuses on the gender and sexual politics of French colonialism and American imperialism in Haiti.

Mamyrah Prosper’s doctoral work centered on a coalition of social movement organizations calling for an end to the ongoing “non-governmental” occupation of Haiti. She is currently working on her monograph entitled Development Contested in Occupied Haiti: Social Movements, NGOs, and the Evangelical State and has published in academic and political journals like Women’s Studies Quarterly and Commune Magazine. She has also served as an organizer with land and housing rights organization Take Back the Land-Miami and is presently the International Coordinator for Community Movement Builders.

WHY WE GATHER

In light of Charlot Jeudy’s recent murder, Haiti’s corrupt clientelistic juridical system, and the ongoing violences against Haitian LGBT/masisi/madivin/MSM, Vodou practitioners, and all those who do not conform to sexual/gendered norms, this Working Group convenes to discuss and mobilize around “the rights to live creatively.” This gathering will collectivize our shared commitments to tilting U.S. resources/privileges/efforts toward queer crusaders and artists in Haiti.

Convened by a group of U.S.-based scholars (in partnership with a Haiti-based artist and queer activist) who desire to create stronger relationships between our U.S. institutional resources/scholarly efforts and the Haitians with whom we work and are inspired, this working group will develop methods and practices that support activists, artists, and queer Haitians living every day in resistance to multiple assaults on their very existence. Through focused discussions and workshopping with both US-based and Haiti-based scholars and practitioners, we will generate dialogue and devise interventions centered on the following questions, with the dual aim of sharing strategies and creating action points:

How might scholars and researchers bridge the Haitian Studies of US Academies to the communities of practice in Haiti that inspire our work?

In what ways can our fields of expertise align with the needs, desires, and imaginations of Haitian queer and creative practitioners?

How could coalitional work leverage U.S.-based resources and institutions for Haiti/Haitian-led initiatives?

What do decolonizing methodologies look/feel/act like for our work?

What can we learn from projects–across research, teaching, and public-facing realms–that are already developing engaged and critically reflective praxes that do not reify geopolitical borders but rather make connections that supercede or undermine such divisions?

What are the frictions, tensions, and injustices that we encounter in engaged work, and how can we devise strategies to address or move through them?

DETAILS

This working group will first convene virtually, where US-based and Haiti-based scholars and practitioners meet in two pre-conference Zoom sessions to get to know one another and share resources/expertise/questions/concerns in preparation for Washington D.C. In the second session we will map our various investments and create smaller subgroups depending on the projects people are interested in working on. Our focused workshop session at HSA will then build these relationships by sharing strategies and devising interventions that can actively create bridges between U.S. and Haitian initiatives.

Taking HSA 2020’s proposal of “Embodying a New Praxis” literally, we are interested in ways we can actually physically put into motion in our own scholarly and activist praxes the ideas and ideals we hold dear. What does a Haitian Studies praxis entail and require of us? How can we actively and continuously tilt our work back to Haiti and Haitians, remaining in dialogue and forging together with more equity–and humility? Working across U.S. and Haitian affiliations, we use this opportunity for gathering to build coalitional relationships, projects, and plans for moving forward together.

We imagine each convener will initially head a subgroup based on his/her/their expertise, but also leave room for participants to forge their own connections depending on their own interests, knowledges, skills and access to resources. We aim to together identify key components of a decolonizing, embodied praxis for an engaged Haitian Studies. We hope to leave our working session at HSA with new ideas as well as plans for how to do our work in alignment with the principles identified.

https://www.haitianstudies.org/2020/03/working-sessions-2020/#WS_Rights

[badsithnocookie]

anyway @mademoisellegush‘s posts about morrowind lately have been making me feel all nostalgic for it but like. going through my own screenshots etc caused my brain to do a balmora/balmorra fart and start pondering a tes au. because, you know. i’m trash. where, like. quinn is some underpaid official in the imperial embassy at balmora who ends up stuck on a quest(tm) with a boorish lieutenant from the local fighter’s guild and a short tempered but rather pretty battlemage from house hlaalu.

tho mean, if we were going with factions with approximate ideologies rather than just going imperial = imperial, then quinn really should be thalmor - plus lbr, quinn would be a natural altmer. rare non magic using altmer, but snooty high elf all the same. who somehow ends up tangled up in the shenanigans of a somewhat less snooty altmer battlemage who, if you believe the rumours, is descended from  the original royal line - but shows absolutely no sign of this in any of her conduct.

(sha is ambassador to the empire from hammerfell, trying to negotiate peace and support without absorption - or war. felix is her utterly devoted bodyguard. awenyth is the single-minded battlemaster of the imperial fighter’s guild. yamé is a nord scholar/mage who works tirelessly attempting to counter stormcloak propaganda. anya collects bounties on thalmor and stormcloaks both, but refuses all attempts to be recruited by the imperials. aemilia is imperial, technically - a healer in the mage’s college, who absolutely does not trade in illicit goods under the table. ciennah leads an imperial special operations team who are routinely underestimated by people who look at her and assume she’d a sugarhead or a thief.)

[theflowercrownlady]

Writers Month 2021 #13 - A moment of peace

Writers Month (August) 2021 Day #13 Word: Night / Setting: Flower Shop/Tattoo Parlor AU Fandom: TES V: Skyrim Characters: Fem!Dragonborn, Inigo (the one and only), Lucien (the imperialist, scholar goofball) and Kharjo. Pairings: None Warnings: None Rating: K

Skyrim's nights were rarely peaceful anymore.

All the more reason why she found those rare moments so special.

There, lying on the grass, no roof on top of her head, the Dragonborn lulled herself to sleep, eyes filled with reflections of the starry above. There were so many the sky didn't even look so dark.

She could hear Inigo's and Lucien gentle banter, keeping a low volume as to not 'wake her up'. But she was not asleep. Her consciousness remained, somewhere in the back of her mind. She knew that a couple of meters away, Kharjo, kind, dutiful Kharjo, had finally fallen asleep after offering to keep watch for three nights in a row. She knew that Inigo and Lucien's conversation included her name more than a few times, and that they quietly sang one of the songs they had improvised together.

She knew, deep inside her, that this could be one of their last nights together; or one their last nights alive. But for now, they were all together. She knew she would have to confront Alduin, one day or another-- maybe all of them would need to.

But not that night. That night was for sleep, and dreams, and navy blue skies, filled with stars...