#Versify

[winningthesweepstakes]

Moon’s Ramadan by Natasha Khan Kazi

Moon’s Ramadan by Natasha Khan Kazi. Versify HarperCollins, 2023. 9780358694090  Rating: 1-5 (5 is an excellent or a Starred review) 5 Format: Hardcover picture book What did you like about the book? Wahoooo!! Love this beautifully illustrated, fun and super informative book about Ramadan. Illustrations are done in earth greens, purples, gold, and silver with each spread set in, and identified…

[smashpages]

Out this week: Side Quest (Versify, $26.99): 

Samuel Sattin and Steenz team up to tell the history of role-playing games, both as a medium and from their own personal experiences.

See what other new comics and graphic novels will arrive this week.

[mothalaalee]

Boop

Honest reaction

[beatsforbrothels]

L*Roneous Da'Versifier - Cycles Of The Mind

[gothprentiss]

really one of the minor job woes but i've just realized i'm going to have to pretend to care about the novel........... shivering and quaking

[malcified]

Hey! Since Sunday’s a great day to perform an all-round status- and priorities-check for the future moment, I’d like to share #TrueAsACloud. May it assist in guiding us to our chosen land.

[shredsandpatches]

man, I have a whole dissertation chapter about an Elizabethan poem that's fundamentally about this question

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

我正在用二手衣服為女兒的電子閱讀器製作新封面；她會在愚人節這天離開台灣去愛爾蘭哈哈，其實她從小就很調皮，尤其是當我要生氣的時候。 I'm making a new cover of the daughter's e-reader with a second hand clothes. She will left Taiwan going to Ireland on April Fool's Day LOL, In fact, she has been very naughty since she was a child, especially when I am about to get angry.

Not done yet/ also being a birthday gift for my sweet daughter; her e-reader cover is old and broken, so I used a second hand clothes with it. will be done tomorrow I hope so. 🤓 she saw I made it for her with 愛爾蘭☘️三葉草seamróg，she gave me a happy smile, n I know she likes it because when she looked at it with her eyes shines bright as the little stars. Love u U xoxo ✨ 💫 Mom Lan~*

愛爾蘭詩人Thomas Moore (1779〜1852)的一首小詩 《Oh The Shamrock》。

他嘉許了三葉草(seamróg)內涵的品格，也讚美了它是愛、智慧、勇氣和靈動的化身，並且描述了三葉草外在的色澤，將它比作是晶瑩露珠下的祖母綠，青翠的嫩綠閃耀著無限的光輝。最後詩人著重在三葉草的地位～它是古老愛爾蘭的國花；時至今日三葉草仍是愛爾蘭以及北愛爾蘭的國花。

《哦，三葉草》

在愛爾蘭島的漫山遍野， 驕傲地生長， 是愛和勇氣 是智慧和靈動， 那耀眼的光芒 如萬箭鑽動。

遍地都盛開著 那三葉的草兒 掛著露珠，生機勃勃且 嬌嫩的祖母綠 像顆顆寶石 在最純淨的水晶下閃閃發光。

哦，三葉草，不朽的常綠! 永恆的眷顧之葉， 吟遊詩人的鍾愛， 古老愛爾蘭的三葉草! 

在愛爾蘭的傳說中，生活在愛爾蘭的古代凱爾特人（Celt）視三葉草為聖物，因為它們長了三片葉子，而三這個數字，在凱爾特信仰中，是個極具神秘色彩的數字。（註：據目前歷史考證，凱爾特人是公元前2000年起生活在中歐的一些有著共同的文化和語言的有親緣關係的民族的統稱，曾廣泛擴散到歐洲各處，後來逐漸減少。如今，依然堅持繼承凱爾特語言文化的只剩下了愛爾蘭語、威爾士語、蘇格蘭蓋爾語和法國境內的布列塔尼語）。

此外最流行的一種解釋是，愛爾蘭和北愛爾蘭選三葉草做國花是因為，在公元5世紀時，愛爾蘭的主保聖人聖帕特里克St Patrick曾經在這裡藉助三葉草進行傳教，他將基督教聖子、聖父、聖靈三位一體的關係比作是三葉草的三片葉子，方便當地人的理解。然而，這種說法其實也只是傳說。愛爾蘭的文字記載直到17世紀才開始出現這個說法，而在17世紀以前，愛爾蘭和三葉草之間還有著曾經更為流行的故事。

📌  He was an English lawyer, judge, social philosopher, author, statesman, theologian, and noted Renaissance humanist. He also served Henry VIII as Lord High Chancellor of England from October 1529 to May 1532. He wrote Utopia, published in 1516, which describes the political system of an imaginary island state. Although Thomas Moore was an Irish Catholic and the son of a Dublin grocer, Moore became the fashionable versifier of Regency England. His Irish Melodies, published between 1807 and 1834 with accompanying music (some of the tunes by Moore himself), were an immense success, and for many years his wit, charm, liberalism, and singing voice made him a brilliant figure in literary and social circles, especially among the aristocratic Whig reformers. The same qualities made him one of Byron's closest friends. He wrote numerous satires, lampoons, and prose pieces. He is chiefly remembered, however, for the Oriental verse romance Lalla Rookh (1817), which achieve.

♡ღ 我留了3個包餡的橡果雞蛋糕給女兒下班來工��室，她吃完後就回家了，後天她要和大學同學一塊兒去香港和澳門玩。 I left three acorn egg cakes stuffed with fillings for my daughter to come to the studio after get off work. After she ate them, she went home. The day after tomorrow, she will go to Hong Kong and Macau with her college classmates on a light-trip. ღ♡

[thegildedbee]

. . . and, ready or not, here comes 2025!

🐝 I’m grateful for the minds of our Sherlockian hive, in light of the locked-room mystery of twenty-five.

In facing the blank pages of the days ahead, we may feel uncertain and tongue-tied, about what can be said.

But when the game is afoot, I know this to be true: what's stored in our mind palaces will help provide clues.

What we create together will open the door, and help keep us right, as in twenty-four. 🐝

.................................... Thank you 😘 everyone, for how often what you've shared has made 2024 a little brighter 🌻 for me, when all the forecast had to offer was storm warnings. As we dig in for whatever 🥠 comes next, I 🐝 hope to be better able to return the favor 🎁 in whatever ways I can manage 🧭 in the months ahead. 💛 .................................... :: I'm not a poet, obviously :-) so I have no idea why this popped into my head, except that I was reading some of ACD's New Years' versifying, so I'm holding his ghost responsible! Staring down 1922, after the bust-ups of 1920 & 1921, what he wrote struck a chord :-) with me, I guess!

". . . and we wear meanwhile / Our patent shock-absorbing smile / But whatever fate may do / We send our greeting out to you." [ there's also an 1896 poem, from when he was resident in Egypt, mentioning the pyramids and such :-) ]

[winningthesweepstakes]

Brownstone by Samuel Teer and Mar Julia

Brownstone by Samuel Teer and Mar Julia, Color design by Ashanti Fortson. Versify /Harper Collins, 2024. 9780358394747 Rating: 1-5 (5 is an excellent or a Starred review) 4 Format: Paperback graphic novel Genre: Realistic fiction What did you like about the book? Because her mother has a chance to go abroad to perform with a prestigious dance company, she drops 14-year-old daughter, Almudena, off…

[nadia-raggles]

so. we have done--or at least begun this. we have made a verse version of rag doll washes the tea things when the party is over. and have reposted the original story with it. however, it is so long, tumblr shortens the post and readers scroll past it never knowing there's a poem there now. still, we worked hard and are even a little proud. we might even prefer it to the original. so here it is. we are posting it again.

rag doll washes the tea things when the party is over: in verse

When all the tea and cake is swallowed up the rag doll washes every porcelain cup, each saucer, every silver spoon, each fork: it stands upon its chair and does its work while in its limbs the soapy water soaks and never fully dries. The smell evokes a sponge that's past its time to throw away. A moldy smell. An odor of decay. A taller doll had done this work before with skin of silicone. Its clockwork core has given out. It cannot move at all. Though others could have risen to the call, no others did. So Rag Doll washes up each soiled saucer, and each tea-stained cup.

Each doll pretends that everything's okay but seven years their witch has been away and no doll wants to delegate a chore to other dolls. That's what a witch is for. This, Rag Doll knew. So Rag Doll volunteered for now, at least, till Scullery is repaired. Someday a witch will come, each doll is sure, and mend their broken, find for them some cure for listlessness, ennui, for discontent, those ills a present mistress might prevent. But in the meantime, everything's okay. Some witch will come and help them all, someday.

But when one comes, she sadly shakes her head, in Scullery's direction. "I'm afraid this doll's beyond my expertise, my friends. I cannot make it move again. It sends apologies it cannot wash the plates." "No worries, Rag Doll washes them," one states. At this, the broken doll begins to jerk, disturbed to learn the doer of its work. The others make excuses, they've no Miss, \And Rag Doll wouldn't let them help. It'd hiss. When Scullery falls Still for good, this Witch goes to the kitchen to assess the sitch. She sees the doll at work, it's ripped and frayed. It isn't meant for this. She shakes her head.

It's meant to comfort witches late at night, to snuggle up in bed, and be held tight. A little doll, the perfect size to steal, and, why not, after all? It's hard to feel for witches who neglect their dolls for years. Would it still count as thievery? Hot tears spring up inside her eyes and start to fall upon her cheeks. She walks up to the doll. She picks it up. It's damp. The squish is right. It smells like mold. It's meek. It doesn't fight. It seems entranced. She looks around the room-- "fantastic!" In the corner there's a broom. "I'm stealing you. I'm taking you away! You're wasted at this sink! What do you say?" "Awa!" And so the two hop on the broom, and through an open window leave that room, the rag doll in the witch's arms squeezed tight. They vanish both into the inky night.

my project for this month will be to adapt each of my works into verse

[falchionier]

Latin Poetry Composition for the Autodidact

The other day, a mutual mentioned on a post about wanting to learn poetry. There really is a dearth of resources for it, and I think we actually miss out on much of the poetry we love by not being able to write it ourselves.

Before we start I want to say that this is now how I did it. I’m a Latin teacher who uses spoken Latin 6 class periods per day, every day. When I’m not speaking it, I’m also writing and listening to it. The amount of input and practice producing and internalizing the natural rhythms of Latin I have as a professional is not something everyone can do and puts a big asterisk next to any advice I give.

 I think my other disclaimer is just that this is a recommendation (albeit one based on my experience and training as a Latin teacher). Don’t feel like you “aren’t allowed” to write hendecasyllables if you have no interest in hexameters.

How to physically create a poem I really recommend pen and paper. Sometimes I’ll write out just the basic idea images or themes and then versify it. Other times I get a nice sounding bit and try to build around it. It’s a very non linear process so don’t feel like you have to start at the beginning or the end. Just try to find a foothold somewhere and grow out from there. For me it involves a lot of trial and error. Usually my first goal is to get something that fits the meter. Then, I ask if it sounds good. Then I ask if it’s artistically what I’m looking for. Lots of writing, scanning, and looking for words that fit the meter, rescanning, ita porro.

 I really don’t recommend writing too much English if you can help it. If you can say what you want in English, there’s no need to obscure it with Latin! To that end, if you’re really new to Latin composition, I’d start with prose and getting good at internalizing styles and tones.

More than anything, have fun! Don’t feel like you are required to complete a textbook or do certain drills in a certain order before you get into the poetry you want to write. Let the Muse sing to you!

Really all you need to get started is this or this and an idea. With practice youll be ready for more stuff and then can reference the materials ive posted.

Table of Contents: (follow the links to the different guides)

1, Prose, or getting started writing in Latin

2, Haikus

3, Hexameter

4, Elegiac Couplets

5, Hendecasyllables and Reading Poetry

6, Explanations of some of the more complicated rules and links to important resources, tutorials, and practice drills

[mothalaalee]

My version:

Thankyou @marzhakallam for the mention!!!

No pressure tags: @penwingsonthinice @wisemilkaddict @listen-to-the-inner-walrus @versify @realitycanbewhateveridesire @lucy-shining-star

[theinwardlight]

From George Fox's Epistle to Friends at Malton, UK (1654), versified

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

how do all the lackadaisy characters react to getting sick/how do the handle the situation. Thanks!! :3c

Lumping these two asks together as they are the same request. Ask and ye shall receive! (A collaborative effort between multiple of our authors as it does involve the whole cast.)

ROCKY

Sick? What do you mean sick. In his over twenty-two years of living thus far he's never been sick once. He has the immune system of a titan, what are you talking about.

Questions he whilst leaning heavily on the bar counter for support lest he is knocked to the ground in a feverish pile by this sudden earthquake that apparently no one else is noticing like seriously you guys shouldn't we evacuate the place?!

In his defense, he's right about one thing: illness seems to avoid him as prevalently and miraculously as death itself. He could get stuck in the rain, take cold mud baths, sleep outside in winter snow, hug someone with Spanish flu, taste the pavement of a rat-infested alley and drink raw sewage and still come out of it all fit as a fiddle.

(Whether he carries anything is a different question, though with the various microorganisms inside him he seems to live in an overwhelmingly peaceful coexistence.)

But every rule has exceptions. And since he frequently does end up in all those situations, when once a millennium he comes down with something it's hard to tell the cause.

How he handles it can be summed up in a short answer of: he doesn't. He refuses to acknowledge it until he's physically incapacitated. If asked about it he keeps insisting that he's fine, a-okay, dandy as can be, never has existed a more invigorated healthy young man on Earth. At best he may invent a perfectly unconvincing excuse, like allergies acting up. (Inside underground caves. In winter. When he's never been allergic to anything in his entire life.)

Aside from perhaps unsuccessfully forbidding him from causing more grievous disturbances than usual, people usually opt to just leave him to it, because once he's set his mind on being "fine" logical reasoning and sound advice are only breath wasted. Ever well-intentioned, Mitzi still tells him to get some rest every now and then, yet keeps stumbling into the boy as he's fumbling through whatever that unresting intent has currently possessed him to be doing.

This wouldn't be such an issue with, say, a cold, because regardless of his masochistic eagerness for activity it inevitably does pass, but if it's something that necessitates any amount of bedrest... well, good luck.

For one he hasn't really a place to rest. I mean... there's the car. No one but Ivy at the Lackadaisy seems to know he technically lives in there, and he's not too enthusiastic to disclose it himself; besides anywhere else actually suitable, like in Mitzi's apartment, he'd just feel like a capital nuisance.

But let's suppose a scenario with the ideal location and someone who cares enough to stick by and ensure he actually does stay put. Shouldering such a responsibility, they must be prepared for a minimum of two things.

For one: he's going to be even more unbearably talkative than usual. Because what else is there left for a restless spirit if the flesh is restrained? Nothing but to complain and lament and versify and prattle on incessantly about whatever comes careening hither along a changeful stream of consciousness. Albeit unwittingly, driving others insane with his aimless rambling is how he keeps himself... well, something.

It's like if his mind had to stop running at maximum speed for just a few minutes it would promptly crash for good. Which, for all we know, may really be the case.

(This is just my two cents, but: I think giving him drawing implements and a coloring book or just plain paper might keep him very nicely occupied, as well as relatively quiet. Be sure to provide plenty of paper though, if you don’t want him to start drawing on other things not meant to be drawn on when the supply runs out like an unsupervised kid... unless you welcome the idea of your walls and furniture being covered in doodles.)

The other, possibly more arduous challenge is keeping him inside the room in the first place. Not understanding nor agreeing with his special treatment largely experienced as imprisonment on his end, he seizes each arising opportunity to attempt to weasel away somehow.

And he's a trained escape artist.

Watch him closely but look away for even a second, and you'll find no trace of him left in the room when you look back. Lock him in there, he'll pick the lock in a pinch - or attempt the window, which depending on the floor number may carry various levels of risk. Tie him down (because you're getting desperate by now) and you're likely to stumble into him minutes later by the front door, having already wriggled his way out. Doesn’t matter which knot was used, he knows most of them by heart. (And even if he didn’t happen to, he’s resourceful enough.)

Like I’ve said before, he perseveres in resisting his confinement for as long as he's capable of moving his limbs around and some vague semblance of coherent thought. Even with his brains cooking with delirium one may have to rescue him as he's crawling along on the floor dragging with him the tangle of blankets he was last left swaddled in, not entirely clear on what direction he's headed but by all means dedicated.

He's not above manipulation either, in order to divert his warden’s attention or make them relinquish his firm supervision rooted in concern for his well-being. Because it's not like he's concerned about it; so why should anyone else be? In addition he's unshakably certain that his role in the Lackadaisy's rumrunning force as well as there in general is absolutely vital and requires that he always be available for employment regardless of if he’s even in a proper state for it. (Just look at the latest comic arc, for crying out loud.)

But psst. Here's a little personal tip, for (Y/N) specifically. If reasonable advice hits deaf ears, and cuffing him to a bedpost yields little results other than another mildly baffling escape attraction, there remains one other thing to try with better chances of success... a more hands-on approach, if you catch my drift.

(Cuddling. I'm talking about cuddling. If you've got a good grip on this string bean of a man he is certainly not going anywhere so long as you're vigilant. Doing so, of course, means risking your own health, which he won't fail to coyly point out either; but he'll otherwise put up minimal resistance and ultimately cave in because God knows he’s touch deprived and doesn't get held enough otherwise. Well, by not enough I mean not at all, ever. But that's exactly why it's a good thing you're here, isn't it?)

Overall, as amusing of a story collection to recount as his commonly absurd ailing escapades might provide later down the line, the fact that they very rarely happen is no doubt for the best. He engages in enough troublesome shenanigans as is.

FRECKLE

Surprisingly pragmatic about it. Yep. He's getting symptoms. Looks like he contracted something.

Best be careful about it... mostly because Nina wouldn't allow him running himself ragged anyhow.

Along with other moral virtues he's had honesty drilled into him from kittenhood. And although it's not always an option in... other matters... he's upfront about how he's feeling physically if not much else, and eventually does come to terms with it. (Once he’s confirmed with certainty that it’s not just the general nauseated feeling he gets whenever he thinks too deeply about his “work” nowadays.)

He doesn't want to infect other people, or incur the stern concern of his mother, so at the very least he stays around the house, doing small, mostly undemanding chores. He's aware it's not expected of him nor recommended, but he has a bit of restlessness to him too.

Mostly because, were it bad enough to confine him to bed in a blanketed bundle of suffering incarnate, all he'd be able to think about is that God's wrath finally caught up with him for being a horrible person and this was part of his rightful punishment. Even worse if he got a nasty fever; it's like he's already burning in Hell.

Distractions may be scarce, but if he's been told off from chores for sneezing on the washing-up or exhausting himself with much too overzealous hammering, he opts to read instead. Over the years he's amassed quite the collection of books, renowned classics and youth literature, and most of them still give off the fluttering remnants of a good kind of nostalgia when flipping through the pages.

And besides, immersing himself in someone else's story is far more pleasant than fretting over his own current predicaments.

Some company, from a safe distance of course, will do him wonders as well. Nina is not the most conversational woman around, and aside from checking on him regularly and ensuring his wellbeing they don't make much meaningful contact.

Rocky likely pops in from time to time however, forever enthused to just run his mouth for as long as allowed, and although he may get a bit too bombastic for Calvin's comparative lack of vitality sometimes he appreciates the distraction more than he's able to express it. And, believe it or not, it's not entirely one-sided either. Rocky has developed a keen sense for his quiet cousin's intent to contribute and will more than gladly listen to what he has to say.

He’ll also forward Ivy’s wishes for Calvin to get well soon as she’s just dying to be able to meet with him at the speakeasy again. (Definitely also attaches a teasing remark or two to the message.) Then he’s eventually ushered out by Nina and as soon as his hasty goodbyes are swallowed by the outdoors Calvin finds himself missing the noise already.

The paralyzed stillness of being sick gets to him a lot more than it shows… seeing as it leaves him a little too alone with his own mind. So he sinks into the comfort of old books until he’s incapacitated by a headache and sore eyes, and diligently rakes those seven leaves that had gathered across the back lawn since he last attended to them two hours before, and lingers outside in the garden until warmer hues overtake a sun-painted sky and the evening chill starts to bite, taking in all things green and alive and in motion to remind himself that he’s not a walking corpse. Not yet, anyway.

Due to his mom’s supervision as well as his own eagerness to follow instructions in order to escape his personal limbo as soon as possible, he does tend to recover fairly fast; and he’s a pretty hardy young lad, thank goodness, so it’s all quite uncommon of an ordeal. In short it’s back to the ol’ grindstone in a jiffy; you know, the kind of grindstone that pulverizes mortal lives and churns out dripping blood.

But hey, best not stop and mull over it too long.

IVY

Oh, it's a nightmare for her.

You mean she can't go out in the evenings anymore? Can't go shopping with friends? Can't procure booze with her criminal coworkers? Can't attend dates with her cute new boyfriend? (Well, those last two are one and the same, really.)

These are all vital activities for a young woman like her to pursue! What else is she supposed to do? Rot in her room and steer clear of all fun whilst everyone else keeps going on with their lives?!

Some flimsy cold is nowhere near enough to keep her away from the beloved Lackadaisy. She can still man the café counter with a little sniffle (taking care to sneeze on no one's food) or look absolutely gorgeous on the dancefloor decked in glimmering pearls and feathers with a slightly paler constitution. But if it's bad enough that she simply must stay put...

During classes the still life of an empty dormitory fills with upbeat contemporary tunes from her bedstand radio as she lies upon crumpled bedsheets, clad in her prettiest pajamas, surrounded by an almost ritualistic circle of tissues and magazines whilst flipping through one of the latter with her legs girlishly dangling in the air. This is likely the scene any visitors are greeted by as well.

She looks like she's coping rather well... until verbal contact ensues and she begins her long string of complaints about how she's feeling utterly miserable. Runny nose, sore throat, grating cough, an unshakable sense of fatigue and she can't even go anywhere! Her classmates are off studying or having fun themselves (as well as deliberately avoiding contact with her for obvious reasons), and she's got nothing to look at but patterned wallpaper and pictures of pretty clothes she currently can't even visit the boutiques for.

But once the grievances are shared she promptly guides the spotlight in their direction, upon which they are to share every last bit of information and news about all most recent ongoings in the world of the healthy. It is a requirement (she will not let them go until they oblige), but also an opportunity; they're welcome to spill the beans on how their week has been and any noteworthy things that happened to them and also to just chat with her about whatever else comes up in the process.

Another way she keeps herself involved with the outside world is through the telephone. The local operator can already tell if she's under the weather by the prevalence of hearing her slightly weathered, juvenile voice squeak for connection to mostly one line throughout the day.

Her calls may also be scheduled to a certain hour so that everyone can come up to Mitzi's office and say hi. That "everyone" overwhelmingly ends up being Rocky, who lingers around there a bit more insistently than usual nearing that time frame and never fails to make his presence known by shouting his own greetings and cheerful encouragements of perseverance into the receiver.

She always asks him about Viktor and Calvin since the former disappointingly refuses to engage with her calls, and the latter doesn't visit because boys aren't allowed in the dormitory... and because he's afraid of catching her sickness. (What a chicken.)

You’d better believe they both get a scolding once she’s recovered for not contacting her at all… though you can’t really stay mad at sheepishly apologetic, babyfaced Freckle McMurray, now can you

Supposing the presence of company who’s emotionally close enough, she may also get clingy in the physical sense. Yes, she knows it’s not very courteous to rub your germs all over someone, but oh, her head is just killing her and she’s exhausted and achy and utterly sick of being sick, hence she desperately needs to rest her chin on someone’s shoulder and latch onto their soft warmth. Really, they brought this upon themselves by daring to enter the sniffly lion cub’s den. Now they’re likely not allowed to move for… let’s say the next two hours. Alternatively, until she has to go to the bathroom or ask them to get her something to drink.

Yes, she’s a bit of a princess; and especially when she’s miserable she may occasionally indulge in showering a willing servant with her various requests. Fetch her this, throw away that, bring hot chocolate and snacks, take out the trash, give her attention. But how could you say no to those big, innocent eyes?

If it’s a schoolmate she will absolutely persuade them to skip their classes for the day and spend time with her instead, offering cuddles and gossip. Forgetting, or ignoring rather, that not everyone can afford to be so lax about their education. Though surely, full-time service as a personal maid slash stuffed animal is making a much better use of their time. She promises to do the same when they inevitably catch the illness themselves, if that’s any consolation.

Nightly adventures and consequent loss of sleep aside, she takes decent care of herself overall, so the understimulating agony of quarantined solitude luckily isn’t something she suffers more of than the average person… albeit that little she’s an expert at suffering luxuriously.

VIKTOR

No, he's not sick, you're just lying. The great, the indomitable, the fierce Viktor Vasco never gets sick.

Denial is definitely a big part of it. He will not admit to getting sick until he's too weak to stand, and even then he'll fight anyone who tries to get him to rest.

The boredom is somehow scarier than actual health concerns. Staying at home and being too ill to do anything except think means he'll think. And thinking leads to a whole load of other things that he doesn't want to get into.

Essentially, getting sick is a liability to everything, from his job to his sense of self.

However, good luck on trying to make him better. He will also stubbornly refuse any help that comes his way, will slam his door in the doctor's face and threaten to tear apart anyone who so much as suggests getting him medicine.

His colleagues from Lackadaisy have taken to asking Mrs Bapka, his neighbour, to administer anything they want to give him themselves (he will draw a line at punching an old woman and fellow Slovakian immigrant), or Ivy (no one can successfully dispose of Ivy and her headstrong attitude. No one.)

The last person he had actually listened to when he was sick was a certain Mordecai Heller. Needless to say, that's not the case anymore.

Maybe that's what really makes him so grumpy and reluctant.

ZIB

His immune system is either rock hard or absolute dogshit, there is no in-between. He can go through a crowd of cats with nasty 'bouts of the flu without catching it, but gets bedridden by something as small as a head cold.

Said wonky immune system may be because he tends to drink stuff cut with the most ridiculous ingredients (radiator fluid, coffin varnish, paint, water, mud, you name it he's probably tasted it)

When he gets laid up, he gets laid up hard (innuendo not intended). He has to drag himself out of bed during the worst parts of it and may not even bother, electing to curl up and shiver/cry from the pain/die where he's comfortable. His band members have to literally drag him out of there on those days and force food down his throat so he doesn't wither away

Goddammit you lanky noodle bitch look after your sick ass don't make everyone do it for you

MORDECAI

He hates falling ill with a passion. It's one of many reasons he drinks tea so often: if he does get sick, it won't hit him so hard.

He tends to try and shrug off small stuff (runny nose, mild to moderate headache, aches and pains) to go to work anyway; but he's no fool. If he really feels icky he'll stay at home and look after himself. As much as he hates to do it, he's only got one body and somebody has to look after it.

The Savoys bash/tease him relentlessly whenever he comes in sick. If the mild headache becomes something worth staying at home for, they'll go as far as to try and visit him (or get him to come to them). Is it guilt about ragging him about it, them missing him or just boredom? Hard to tell with those two.

Serafine once teased about playing as his "mama" and looking after him until he's better. Mordecai, in his sickness-muddled mind, flew off the handle at her...Though all the Savoys saw was him almost break a glass in his paws before telling them flatly to get out.

Neither one realized Serafine had hit a nerve until he refused to let them in for a few days after. Whether it was something about his past or Serafine betraying his trust to get him into her group, they let it go and pretended nothing happened once he was back in action (though there was a noticeably thicker wall between him and them)

SERAFINE/NICODEME

Meet the "clingy" duo.

They don't get sick often and have impressive immune systems, what with their past roaming the swamps and other dangerous conditions, but when they do? Oh boy...

They'll either cling to each other in private, or play it up and annoy a hapless colleague.

And by "hapless colleague", I mean Mordecai—because of course it is.

Sickness is less of an actual, preventive ailment, but rather an excuse to show off some dramatic acting skills.

"Oh, cher, I simply cannot move until you bring me some nice warm tea and chocolate!"

"If I die, tell the world I was warm and safe, because of our dear ami, Heller..."

"For crying out loud, you've both got nothing but a cold."

They'll still play it up.

Just because your nose is stuffy doesn't mean the rest of you has to be.

The show must go on, mon cher.

WICK

He gets sick really, really easily. He stays up late at night often, so he doesn't get much rest and his immunity suffers for it.

(Licking rock walls probably doesn't help with that. Muffinhead (affectionate))

He still does work and goes out when he's sick, which results in papers with shitty writing and his friends urging him to go and rest up, "we can go with you another day".

When he's not thinking straight he'll whine to Lacie about how no one wants to see him when he's sick; ignoring the fact that she's either making him food, putting a cold cloth on his head or literally came by just to say hi to him

He's a bit dim sometimes, but he's a loveable dim.

The easiest way to see how sick he is is to mention putting the work on pause or crack a joke at his expense. If he rapidly objects to not working or good-naturedly shrugs off the joke, it's a small thing, nothing to worry about. If all he has to say in response to not working is "I can't" and he tries to defend himself from the joke (or even worse, agrees with it), he's feeling god-awful.

Lacie tends to hide the alcohol away until he's feeling better. During the week or so he's really feeling foggy this actually works, since in his addled state he can't properly look for them.

MITZI (BONUS since she's been getting a fair bit of attention)

Mitzi doesn't get sick. She becomes inconvenienced.

She's also a real bitch when she's sick. It's less of a slipping mask and more of a "I can't be nice when my brain feels too big for my skull"

She'll still grin and bear it for Rocky. He's positively devoted to her, after all; the least she can do is swallow her nasty remarks and come up with something softer for him.

Some cats swear that she never falls ill or has anything happen to her...Usually because once it does happen she locks herself in her office and won't open the door if you're not Horatio or Viktor.

If another cat somehow gets through her door, can put up with her attitude swings and goes out of their way to help her through her illness, she may very well open up a little and talk to them easier. Something as small as a cup of tea during a ravenous headache will convince the then-bitchy queen that you're not all bad-and later that since you put up with her ravenous insults and still helped her, maybe you're worth swallowing her pride for and confiding in.

[richincolor]

New Releases - February 11, 2025

We have four books on our calendar for this week. There's a lot of magic between the covers of several of the books along with a little haunting and a bit of music too.

(S)kin by Ibi Zoboi Versify

From award-winning, New York Times bestselling author Ibi Zoboi comes her groundbreaking contemporary fantasy debut—a novel in verse based on Caribbean folklore—about the power of inherited magic and the price we must pay to live the life we yearn for.

Fifteen-year-old Marisol is the daughter of a soucouyant. Every new moon, she sheds her skin like the many women before her, shifting into a fireball witch who must fly into the night and slowly sip from the lives of others to sustain her own. But Brooklyn is no place for fireball witches with all its bright lights, shut windows, and bolt-locked doors.… While Marisol hoped they would leave their old traditions behind when they emigrated from the islands, she knows this will never happen while she remains ensnared by the one person who keeps her chained to her magical past—her mother.

Seventeen-year-old Genevieve is the daughter of a college professor and a newly minted older half sister of twins. Her worsening skin condition and the babies’ constant wailing keep her up at night, when she stares at the dark sky with a deep longing to inhale it all. She hopes to quench the hunger that gnaws at her, one that seems to reach for some memory of her estranged mother. When a new nanny arrives to help with the twins, a family secret connecting her to Marisol is revealed, and Gen begins to find answers to questions she hasn’t even thought to ask.

But the girls soon discover that the very skin keeping their flames locked beneath the surface may be more explosive to the relationships around them than any ancient magic.

Reign of the Talons (Talons #3) by Sophie Kim Entangled: Teen

How do you kill a prophecy?

The Prophecy has arrived…and with her, war.

A prisoner caged within the walls of her own mind, the once-fierce assassin known as Shin Lina can do nothing but watch as a tide of blood and chaos sweeps across the Three Kingdoms. After all, Lina is the one who unleashed the malevolent Prophecy upon her world.

So many secrets. So many lies. And it’s all her fault.

Yet Haneul Rui—the immortal Dokkaebi Emperor who stole her heart—refuses to surrender. He alone leads the armies against the dangerous, serpentine Imugi. He alone wields his scorching fire atop blood-soaked battlefields, and he alone rallies his soldiers against a terrifying future of death and destruction.

Now the red thread of fate ties them all together in love and hatred—Rui, Lina, and the merciless Prophecy herself. And the more Lina fights against her destiny, the tighter the thread becomes.

For they are bound in both life and death; to wound one is to wound them all. To kill the Child of Venom is to kill them all.

And soon, not even the wrathful gods themselves can stop their inevitable ruin.

Ghost Queen by Mahtab Narsimhan Orca Book Publishers

Hey, Ghosties, this is the Ghost Queen tuning in from the most haunted place in India!

Teen vlogger Malika’s ghost hunter channel is almost popular enough to start earning money to support her family. All she needs is one viral video—and she knows exactly where she’s going to get it. Bhangarh Fort is the most haunted place in India, rumoured to be home to the cursed princess Ratnavati and her wicked captor. Malika convinces her boyfriend to sneak into the fort with her after dark and record the experience for her avid fans and followers. That’s when things go terribly wrong. Can the “Ghost Queen” escape, or is she doomed to spend eternity trapped with a mad magician and the princess who rejected him?

This short novel is a high-interest, low-reading level book for teen readers who are building reading skills, want a quick read or say they don’t like to read! The epub edition of this title is fully accessible.

Dropping Beats by Nathanael Lessore Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Thirteen-year-old Growls (aka Shaun) is an aspiring (awful) rapper who hopes to enter this year’s Raptology competition with his best friend, Shanks (aka Zachariah). After all, what better way to land his crush (Tanisha) and get the respect he finally deserves than winning the contest and going viral?

But when a livestream practice goes epically wrong, the two friends do go viral– and not in the way they’d hoped.

Now the laughingstock of the school, Growls is sure he’ll never have another chance to date Tanisha. Even worse, Shanks has gone MIA, leaving him terribly alone.

But when Growls meets the new girl on the block (Siobhan), things don’t seem so terrible after all. And with some patience, a little luck, and a whole lot of practice, he just might win the Raptology competition and be a hero to both Siobhan and Shanks.

Either way, he’s ready for this. He’s steady for this. It’s comeback season and they call him comeback king for a reason.