#alina capella

[alinacapellabooks]

Someone once said, if writing is so hard, then why don’t you get AI to do it for you? Because I like writing. Yes, it’s hard, but I like putting the work in because it’s something I’m passionate about. The process of creation brings me joy and fulfilment. What next? Are you going to ask me if I want AI to eat my dinner and do my hobbies for me?

[alinacapellabooks]

My water bottle, my favorite lip balm, and a hyper-realistic crow plushie that I got because it reminded me of Kunio ^_^

i think what’s on a person’s nightstand is very telling so reblog this and put in the tags the things you have on your nightstand

[alinacapellabooks]

I’ve never talked much about my own experience with being queer, but I don’t think that enough people understand how frustrating it is to be asexual in a sex-obsessed society. If you sleep around, you’re a whore, but if you don’t sleep with anyone, you’re a prude and you’re ‘playing hard to get’. If you want a relationship, you’re a frigid bitch if you don’t want to have sex with your partner. But then, if you’re also aromantic, and you don’t want a relationship, you’re a heartless bitch. You have to be careful about how you dress, or how you do your makeup, because if you do it a certain way, people, especially men, will think that you’re trying to be sexy to attract them, and you’ll get so many unwanted advances. Every time you go to a family gathering there’s gonna be that one relative who insists that you’re a ‘late bloomer’ or that you’ll ‘change your mind’ later on. Being asexual would be a hell of a lot easier if the world would stop obsessing over sex.

[alinacapellabooks]

Not now darling I’m busy trying to furiously write down all of my ideas before I forget them

[alinacapellabooks]

The writing process:

Vs the editing process:

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Making the MCs of my romance novel asexual because I’m asexual and I HATE writing sex scenes:

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One of the best pieces of writing advice I ever received was to never assume that people care about your characters. I took that to heart, and to this day, it’s the reason why I flesh out my main characters so much in the very first chapter of every one of my books. If I haven’t made a reader fall in love with the MC by the end of chapter one, I count that as a failure on my part.

[alinacapellabooks]

Big News About Night Of The Blue Moon ^_^

Sooo, if you’re on my mailing list, you already know this, but for those of you who aren’t, the second draft of my gay adult magical girl novel, Night Of The Blue Moon is complete! Next step on the journey to publication is beta reading and editing! I’m nervous, but I know it has to be done to make it better ^_^

I really ought to make a tag list, so, erm… @the-golden-comet @gioiaalbanoart @wyked-ao3 @mundanemoongirl @estellamiraiauthor @fablesandfragments

[alinacapellabooks]

Thanks for the tag! Strap in, everybody, because we’ll be going on a tour that’ll take you to the Underworld! That’s right, you get an exclusive sneak peek of where you’ll be going when you’re dead!

Hades: I don’t usually allow the living in the Underworld, but I’m willing to make an exception just this once.

Anargyros: But before that, let’s start with a tour of some of our favorite locations in the living world!

Solana: This is Winchester Cathedral. It’s our city’s most famous historical landmark, and also the place where our annual Christmas markets are hosted. Trust me, you haven’t lived until you’ve been to a Winchester Christmas market. I want a bratwurst stuffed with melted cheese right about now…

Ariel: It’s also the perfect place to have a big dramatic fight with your mortal enemy…Or to declare your love for someone and have a big damn kiss moment with them…

Solana: Yeah, that too. Or at least, that’s what we did, right, babe? Ariel: Yeah…

Solana: Next stop on our journey is Abbey Gardens, a gorgeous park surrounding a fifteenth century house. It’s a nice place to walk your dog, or have a picnic.

Ariel: Or kill your rapist’s mother who helped him get away with his crime.

Solana: Yeah that too…

Anargyros: Can we show them Elysium next?

Hades: Fine, but not all of it. If I showed everyone the entirety of Elysium, the journey would take years…

Anargyros: Anyway, this is Elysium, an archipelago where exceptional souls are sent when they die. By this, I mean souls who were exceptionally good people when they were alive, or souls who gained the favor of the gods. Anything you want can be yours down here.

Solana: What about discontinued snacks?

Hades: Why is that always the first thing souls ask us when they’re sent to Elysium? Do you humans not have anything but discontinued food on your minds?

Solana: So do you have discontinued snacks in Elysium?

Hades: …Yes.

Thanatos: I love coming down here to get Orbitz soda! I don’t know why you humans discontinued it, it’s really good!

Hades: Thanatos? What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to meet Ariel and Solana until the second book!

Thanatos: I’m just taking a break.

Ariel: You’re the god of dying. Don’t you have souls to harvest on Earth?

Thanatos: Not right now. Only a couple million people have been scheduled to die today. I’m not usually very busy on weekdays.

Hades: Anyway, the last stop on our journey is Tartarus, which is where you humans who have personally offended the gods in some way go. Here you’ll find many mythological figures, such as Tantalus and Sisyphus, and you’ll also find some more recently deceased sinners down here. Some of you might be wondering, what did the guy in the Supreme cap do? He was a serial stalker and rapist, and two of his victims happened to be champions of the titans. I haven’t decided on a punishment for him yet, but right now I’m leaning towards having fire ants eat his nether regions every day for the next century.

Thanatos: Maybe we could ask Zeus for some ideas! His punishments are pretty creative!

Hades: I’d rather not contact my brother if I can help it, Thanatos. There’s a reason why it’s been five centuries since we last spoke…

Anargyros: Yeah, and I don’t think Phoebe would approve of us talking to him either. We really need her on our side right now, and she hates his guts.

Solana: Oh yeah? Why’s that?

Hades: He got one of her daughters pregnant, and then when he tried to get with her other daughter, she refused him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she turned herself into an island to get him to leave her alone.

Ariel: Yikes: He sounds just like Brooklyn.

Hades: He is. Sometimes I wish I could throw him into Tartarus along with my father…

Anargyros: Even gods have daddy issues! And big brother issues…

Hades: Alright, let’s wrap this up and take everyone back to the living world.

Leaving this tag open! Don’t be shy, come and say hi!

✨⛵️Story/WIP Tour Tag ⛵️✨

Oh, what a fun concept! Thank you for tagging me, @theink-stainedfolk !!

I’m not sure I can convince you about the lovely landmarks in Peter Hart , but— there’s a rope around me. Oh. We don’t have a choice in this adventure, do we?

Peter: Clever. You catch on quick~!

Ahoy, mates. Captain Hart at the helm now. I’ll be your tour guide for the voyage. Please keep your arms on the deck at all times. Do not lean on the railing; if you go overboard we’re not coming to fish you out….unless you’re Benjamin.

Benjamin: HEY!! 😡

Right, let’s get started:

✨🇬🇧Port Mayor🇬🇧✨

On your left, you will notice we are passing by Port Mayor, Great Britain. A lovely fishing port run by an absolute bastard of a person. Make sure on your stop you steal a hearty handful from the Royal’s pockets, and try their regional specialty: Port Plum Pudding. Great for the season.

🌋Isle of Talon Rock🌋

Oh, this one’s a lovely sightseeing adventure! Talon Rock is an inactive volcano in the center of thick jungle. Do watch your feet for snakes; they are quite venomous here. The igneous walls of the lava tubes are home to a variety of rich gems, but make sure you vacate before high tide if you don’t want to get your clothes wet.

✨🇬🇧Portsmouth🇬🇧✨

We arrive at another port. Excellent tailor at this location; this is where I picked out most of Benjamin’s fashion.

Benjamin: I didn’t ASK for—

—You’re welcome. If you get a chance, make sure to piss in the rose garden of the sovereign that governs this port.

✨🪨Echoing Cove🪨✨

This one looks deceptive at first glance, but a trove of valuables rests deep enough inside the many underwater cave systems. You’ll have to do a little spelunking, but if you reach deep enough the treasures are ripe for the taking~

Benjamin: Peter…why do I hear voices?

—AAAAAAAND we are getting the fuck out of here~🏴‍☠️✨

✨🇬🇧Port Florence🇬🇧✨

Aye, Florence. Another posh port with a castle loaded in riches. A very prosperous port town with a king that is all too eager to throw lavish parties and get drunk off of centuries aged wine.

Benjamin: You’re one to talk, captain…

They hold a Regal Ball every year, with a dance competition. The winners take home 50 grand. Ah, a great memory indeed~

Benji: (blushing furiously)

😏

☠️🩸Bloodwater Bay🩸☠️

….Oh shite. This place. Right, well…..some more dense jungle, a thin strip of beach, the waters are red, but don’t be too alarmed…Davey tells us that’s the iron deposits that give more of that rusty hue. There’s a tall waterfall in the center……

Benjamin: …..Peter? Peeeeeeeter?

O-Oh! Well, moving right along…don’t want to linger in this wretched bay….

✨🇮🇪Gregory’s Point🇮🇪✨

Another lovely island between the mainland and Ireland. This is a developed hotspot, turned into a small port town where all are welcome. Pirates, naval officers, merchants, the like. Between the two main countries, this place has its own governance. So, you better have a good reputation if you don’t want to be murdered in your sleep ✨

Benjamin: you say that so nonchalantly, Captain

Mmmmhm. Also home to one of the best doctors this side of the equator. So, if you get wounded, make sure it happens close to Gregory’s Point.

✨🐋Giverny Gulch🐋✨

Another island made of basalt, home to a naval shipwreck. Do watch your step for broken glass, sharp rocks, reanimated corpses—

Benjamin: —I beg your pardon?

—fish and shark carcasses….oh right. Lots of sharks. Be careful of those.

Benjamin: ….Do I hear a whale?

✨🇫🇷Lorraine🇫🇷✨

We’re arriving near France! Jacques: lead us in the singing of the French National Anthem

Jacques: Oui, oui, Capitaine~! ✨

✨🎵 Allons enfant de la patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrivé! 🎵✨

Benjamin: 😑

✨🎵….Contre nous de la tyrannie,

L'étendard sanglant est levé

L'étendard sanglant est levé

Entendez-vous dans les campagnes

Mugir ces féroces soldats?

Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras

Égorger vos fils et vos compagnes!

Aux armes, citoyens! (Formez)

Vos bataillons!

Marchons! Oui, marchons!

Qu'un sang impur

Abreuve nos sillons! 🎵✨

🏔️Arctic Archipelago🏔️

……

Benjamin: …..Peter?

…..Let’s be off…..I wish not to be here too long.

✨🏝️The Caribbean🏝️✨

Ah, much better~! A nice, warm climate. Benji, love, remind me to acquire a bottle of Ron de Barbados 🇧🇧✨

Benjamin: Trust me, Captain; you won’t forget.

We’ve reached our final stop, but we have a whole tied-up tour group of witnesses. Mmmm…Right, I got it! Men, start hauling them over the rail—

Benjamin: —PETER!!

I’m joooooking~. Start untying them and drop ‘em off at the next port. Thank you for….“choosing”….The Golden Phoenix as your cruise. I’ve been your captain, and have a magnificent stay in Barbados. Jones knows I will~

Benjamin: P-PETER!! 😣

Leaving this open because man I had a lot of fun here ✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below DM me if you want to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @clevah-girlboss, @wyked-ao3 , @glasshouses-and-stones , @gioiaalbanoart , @tragedycoded , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @katenewmanwrites , @fantasy-things-and-such , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @willtheweaver , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck , @the-letterbox-archives , @ominous-feychild , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @sableglass , @cowboybrunch , @yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @aintgonnatakethis , @thecomfywriter , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin , @authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @48lexr , @inseasofgreen , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @justabigoldnerd , @pippinoftheshire , @just-emis-blog, @aalinaaaaa , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator , @worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @eccaiia , @swordslord

[alinacapellabooks]

IT'S FINALLY HERE! THE TENGU AND THE ANGEL IS OUT NOW!

Hello, hello, hello, everyone, I have some very exciting news to share with you all! The Tengu And The Angel, my debut novel, is now finally available to buy! That's right, you can now get your very own copy of my fluffy, angsty, gay friends-to-lovers novel! Oh, but why would you want to, you might be asking? What's the book about! Great questions, my friends, and I'll answer them both for you right now!

The Tengu And The Angel is a friends-to-lovers romance about two roommates falling in love, and learning to let go of their pasts. Eighteen year old Kunio Yoshioka has just fled his abusive mother's home in Northampton, and he's journeying up north in search of a new home, and a fresh start in life. He's armed with nothing but his dreams of being a successful artist, and his vivid imagination. He thinks of his new adult self as a tengu; strong, proud, and capable of things his child self could only dream of. Twenty year old Nathaniel seems to have it all; he's gorgeous, he lives in a beautiful apartment in the centre of Newcastle, and he's the owner and founder of Black Rose, a Victorian gothic online boutique. Kunio thinks of him as angel; he's faultlessly polite and kind, and he goes above and beyond to help him when they first meet, even though he doesn't know him. He's also painfully insecure, and he lives under the thumb of his toxic 'best friend', Theo, who uses his mental illness to control him. When Nathaniel takes Kunio in, the two form a close friendship, which slowly blossoms into love. Can the two of them learn to put their pasts behind, and make their relationship work? Well, you're going to have to read it to find out! Get your copy from Rakuten Kobo, or from the Amazon Kindle Store below!

[mirandamckenni1]

Laboratorium Pieśni - Sztoj pa moru (Што й па мору) OUR CDs: https://ift.tt/HoODmxF NASZE PŁYTY: https://ift.tt/nRGb39x Belarusian traditional song 'Shtoy pa moru' [Out there on the sea] - arranged by Laboratorium Pieśni / Song Laboratory and recorded in Świątynia Dźwięku - Sound Temple in Borsk in Kashubian region (Poland). Białoruska pieśń "Sztoj pa moru" (oryg. Што й па мору - Tam na morzu) w aranżacji Laboratorium Pieśni, zaśpiewana i nagrana w Świątyni Dźwięku - Sound Temple w Borsku na Kaszubach. video: Marta Obiegla (https://ift.tt/g7ub9GY), Dariusz Dawidowski voices / głosy: Alina Jurczyszyn, Kamila Bigus, Lila Bosowska, Iwona Bajger, Klaudia Lewandowska, Magda Jurczyszyn, Karolina Stawiszyńska, Alina Klebba shamanic drums / bębny szamańskie: Metaphoric Tools - https://ift.tt/pgHx5eu https://ift.tt/ldFeWGb http://youtube.com/laboratoriumpiesni https://ift.tt/0QkphXK https://ift.tt/uEPGi8V https://ift.tt/KCun3fd Translation: At the sea, blue sea There was a floating flock of white swans And where did the gray-white eagle come from? It dispersed the flock around the blue sea White down rose to heaven, Gray feathers fell on a green meadow And who will collect these feathers? - A beautiful girl Tłumaczenie tekstu: Na morzu, na błękitnym morzu Tam pływały stada białych łabędzi Z małymi łabądkami A skąd się wziął szaro-biały orzeł Rozgonił stado po całym błękitnym morzu Biały puszek uniósł się do nieba Szare pierze opadło na zielonej łące A kto zbierze to pierze? Zbierze je piękna dziewczyna Many thanks to Asia and Huzy for hospitality and drumming! Wielkie podziękowania dla Asi i Huzego za gościnę i wspólne bębnienie! Thanks to Raman for sharing this song with us, lyric and translation! Dziękujemy Ramanowi za podzielenie się pieśnią, tekst i tłumaczenie! ABOUT US / O NAS: Laboratorium Pieśni – Song Laboratory (world/ethno/spiritual/mystic folk music) is a female group of singers from Poland, created in 2013. Using traditional, polyphonic singing they perform songs from all over the world, mainly: Ukraine, Balkans, Belarus, Georgia, Scandinavia, Poland and many other places. They sing a capella as well as with shaman drums and other ethnic instruments (shruti box, kalimba, flute, gong, zaphir and koshi chimes, singing bowls, rattles etc.), creating a new space in a traditional song, adding voice improvisations, inspired by sounds of nature, often intuitive, wild and feminine. Laboratorium Pieśni – Song Laboratory (world/etno/spiritual/mystic folk music) to trójmiejski, kobiecy zespół pieśniarek, powstały w 2013 roku. Grupa śpiewa i aranżuje tradycyjne pieśni polifoniczne: ukraińskie, bułgarskie, białoruskie, serbskie, albańskie, bośniackie, polskie, a także gruzińskie, skandynawskie, oksytańskie i wiele innych. Pieśni Świata wykonują zarówno a capella, jak i przy akompaniamencie bębnów szamańskich i innych etnicznych instrumentów (m.in. shruti box, dzwonków, przeszkadzajek, fletu, kalimby, mis, gongu), wnosząc w pieśni tradycyjne nową aranżację, przestrzeń improwizacji głosowych, inspirowanych dźwiękami natury, często intuicyjnych, dzikich, kobiecych. via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04fEWQOwUD4

[alinacapellabooks]

@the-golden-comet @gioiaalbanoart @inkshine @mundanemoongirl @wyked-ao3 @mauannacreates @lady-grace-pens @fablesandfragments @willtheweaver @illarian-rambling @leahnardo-da-veggie

Can you believe that it’s been a year since my debut? Neither can I, but it’s officially been one year since I released my debut novel, The Tengu And The Angel! Thank you for all of your support over this past year, and for those of you who haven’t read it yet, The Tengu And The Angel is a fluffy, angsty, slow burn friends to lovers romance about Kunio, a troubled teen artist who runs away from his abusive mother, and Nathaniel, the equally troubled fashion designer who takes him in. If you’re looking for a new read this holiday season guaranteed to melt your heart, you can buy my book (And read the entire first chapter for free!) on Amazon! Posting the Goodreads link so that you’ll be redirected to the right Amazon store for your country/territory:

Thank you for all of your support so far, and I’m hoping that you’ll stick around for the release of my next book, Night Of The Blue Moon! Night Of The Blue Moon will be releasing in January! ^^

[alinacapellabooks]

Allow me to introduce my truly despicable villain, Orpheus, whom no one will be able to blorbify. I cannot overstate how horrible of a person he is. (Going to add a brief trigger warning for SA)…

Orpheus, otherwise known as Viceroy Steadman, is a billionaire in his early 50s who owns the in-universe equivalent of Hololive and Netflix. He made a deal with Hades in the hopes of buying his son, Brooklyn’s soul back from Thanatos. Brooklyn is currently in a coma, and Thanatos is due to collect his soul when he dies in three months’ time, but Hades will tell Thanatos to allow Brooklyn to live, if Orpheus guides 100 lost souls who linger on Earth, unable to pass on, to the Underworld. Sounds a bit sympathetic, right? Wrong! Brooklyn was a stalker and rapist, and Orpheus was not only aware of this, but helped him get away with his crimes. Not only that, but Orpheus isn’t guiding lost souls to the Underworld—He’s killing people he doesn’t like. And the person on the top of his hit-list is Ariel Gianapoulou, the MC, who was one of Brooklyn’s victims…

(I’m not gonna lie, the whole reason I created him was because I’m tired of sympathetic villains. I wanted to create a terrible, horrible, no good, completely irredeemable villain, and I think I succeeded)

I wanna make an appreciation post for everyone's villain OCs. Please please please tell me about the most nasty, vicious, evil little bastard from your brain.

I promise I'll be perfectly normal about them and not make them my blorbo <3

[manascoundrel]

Trophy- Chapter 7

by Yarking Fandom: Dragon Age (general) Summery: Two troubled children meet at the Minrathous Circle. One is a magister’s heir, groomed to be the blood mage general of Seheron, without fear or mercy. Hopefully, that will keep people from noticing how very much an elf he is. The other is last born, least loved and most of his emotions involve academics and cadavers. They love each other, even if they’re not terribly good at it. Warnings for this chapter: talk of ableism, eugenics, victim blaming, more voices, refence to surgically removed body parts for science (brief mention of eyeballs and misc organs, non-graphic), aaaand a... big implied Something Bad at the end of the chapter. Which is vague but so is the thing. AO3: here

The stutter was going to be a problem.

Gaius Albus Danarius sat hunched at his desk, lips thin and brow drawn. He had already contacted the circle (discreetly), inquiring about a (discreet) tutor for young Tertius' particular blemish, but there was no overnight solution. There was no answer to be found in blood magic, that he was sure of. His desk was covered in open tomes, the likes of which he would not ordinarily let see the light of day without locking and warding the room. More books littered the floor, uneven, messy, horrible things that tightened the tension along his spine even further. The further away from his desk- a point of origin- the more harmless and more hopeless the sources became. He had given up on finding anything salient when he found himself reading about spirit healers and the absurdity and unlikelihood of fixing the issue in a plain and simple, single spell finally registered.

A spirit healer. Magister Danarius scoffed at the notion, resting his chin pensively in palm. He might as well be looking for a somniari in the heart of the Imperium.

He hated this. A walking shame of his family name out there, sputtering like a slave that was addled from years of processing lyrium. It was a long, black shadow cast on his house's name, a name that he had so painstakingly cultivated to its pristine glory. Past. Spoiled. All due to a moment of impatience and indiscretion.

Looking around the room a final time, Magister Danarius shut his eyes and let out a harsh breath through his nose. He slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers closing around the round, smooth gem there, and sent two pulses of mana into it, summoning his seneschal.

The young woman appeared at the door of his study swiftly, hesitating at the threshold as she looked at the scattered books that littered the typically orderly room.

"Master," she began, gaze traveling along the ground, following the books until she reached his hem, then upward to him folded irritably in his chair. "You seem..."

"Despondent?" Magister Danarius offered with a thin, bitter smile. "Defeated?"

"I was going to say troubled," the seneschal assured. Ever politique. That's why he had hired her.

He clapped his book shut brusquely. "I have a problem, Alina. The worst type of problem, my dear. The kind that involves public shame, and cannot be resolved with magic."

Seneschal Alina looked appropriately dubious. Magister Danarius wasn't certain why- he had just said it couldn't be solved with magic, and blood magic was certainly implied to be included. Her blood was staying right where it was, and besides that, he had better options than her for a sacrifice. She did acceptable work, and would take time to replace, besides.

"I'm sorry to hear that, master," she replied cautiously, bowing as if it were compulsion. You'd think she were liberate with how antsy she was.

"Since I can't throw magic at the problem and have it go away, I'm going to do the next best thing and throw money at it."

"Master?"

Magister Danarius deposited his book atop the pile already on his desk and steepled his fingers. "Tertius' stutter couldn't be fixed before the beginning of his schooling, and to delay enrollment risks making him look unprepared and thus weak. Which makes us look weak, poor-bred and ripe for assassination. I had instructed the boy to remain silent when it was an option, but the charade can't last forever. People will hear, and people will know, and then we wouldn't be in a terribly better position than we were in delaying his education. I've already contacted tutors who teach-" Danarius' scowl grew disgusted- "remedial and delayed apprentices privately."

"You are asking me to adjust our financial records to reflect the payment for his tutors? I can do that, certainly, and make sure to file it under something innocuous sounding so-"

"Yes, yes, that is part of it, possibly. But as I said, it cannot be resolved overnight. I want to display our family's assets to offset as much damage that boy will do when he inevitably opens his mouth. I've already sent in for a high quality foci for his first training staff commission. The purity of the foci will help demonstrate the ample magic in our bloodline, but we need more than that. We can't rest on genealogical superiority when the little disaster appears malformed. We need to distract from that with our house's other assets. If we can't figure out something to distract from his shortcomings, we have the option to send a Crow for Tertius, but that has it's own undesirable effects."

The seneschal said nothing at first, seeming stunned. "Of course," she managed, thickly. "We can't afford to give the house's enemies any ideas by sending an assassin for our own."

Magister Danarius scowled. "Don't be sentimental. I have an heir, and I have a spare. Tertius' only responsibility is trying to avoid tarnishing our family's name, which he has so far managed to compromise by existing and speaking. I'm not convinced that he'll become less of a problem the longer he's in the public eye."

The seneschal bowed, keeping her head turned downward in penitence. "He is fortunate that you've given him the opportunity at all, I'm certain."

"He is," Magister Danarius agreed, coldly. It had been the boy's fault, after all, for not doing the most basic task asked of him and simply obey. It was regrettable that Magister Danarius momentarily lost his composure. It is not something he is proud of (and, in fact, something he hadn't like to dwell on since the incident) but it hadn't needed to be so if Tertius had minded. Willful creature. So like his mother.

After a chilly silence and moment of time, the seneschal risked speaking again. "Did you have something in mind for me to arrange delivered, or were you seeking suggestions?"

"Suggestions. Right now, the Crow is my best option. I'm looking for something better. Something that will tilt impressions into something passably favorable, at least until Tertius' shortcomings can be worked out of him." Magister Danarius' fingertips brushed against his lips and tapped thoughtfully. "Sending a personal slave at his age would look suspicious, he's too young to have any use for one, save perhaps as a personal guard or chaperone. We don't want to give the impression that he needs either of those things- that too would give the appearance of weakness. But slaves with magic in the blood is the vast majority of House Danarius' assets. That's what we're known for."

The seneschal remained silent for a beat, thinking. "Master, if I might make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead, as I said that's why you're here."

"Young Master Tertius' isn't just a Danarius," the seneschal said cautiously, teasing the words out as if braced for offence to be taken. "Since his staff is already a show of your wealth, you could use your ties to his mother's house to distract the students. Wasn't your late wife- Andraste bless her- from a prestigious house herself?"

Magister Danarius' eyes lowered. When he eventually spoke, his words were quiet and unreadable. "Capella was not chosen for her wealth, status, or magical prowess. My duties to the Imperium as a progenitor and househead was fulfilled with my first wife, as you well know."

"Yes, of course, Master. But could you remind me, what was Mistress Danarius' house known for?"

"The most significant thing her family accomplished outside of producing her was their horses. Her... I believe great aunt or somesuch... developed the chargers we use in our cavalry and the Vinter Warmblood. The breed the Archon uses? Well, when he's not traveling via palanquin," Magister Danarius explained. He sounded vexed. "I'm not certain what could be done with that."

Seneschal Alina shifted and gave a very suspicious sounding cough. "If only, master, there were something that every five-year-old desired. Something that would cause enough envy that that was what was reported to the apprentices parents when reporting on young master Tertius."

Magister Danarius closed his eyes. He opened them.

"In my defense," he said, a serpentine smile growing slowly at his thin lips, "it has been quite some time since I've been a five-year-old. But I think I've gathered what you're suggestion."

--

Tertius was the luckiest, most loved, most excited, most grateful five-year-old in the entire Circle.

He had Stardust.

Stardust was a pony. Her real name was something too long for him to hope to remember, let alone manage to say (she was a very fancy pony, apparently, whose long name came from her 'impressive' lineage), but the pony was dappled grey like the softest sprinkle of dust over something that had long been present but never been touched, and had a star on her head as brilliant as fresh milk. Thus, Stardust. He had even got to name her (well, nickname her), and if anyone had anything bad to say about her Tertius was prepared to study for a hundred hours straight just so he'd know how to cast a fireball at anyone who would dare disparage her.

Since the day she arrived, Tertius had found time to make it out the the stables and riding arena every day. Even when the rain was pouring down and the stablemaster had banned him and the other young riders from taking their horses out in the rain (too great was the risk of slipping and injury), Tertius still slipped into the stables to visit her, bribing her approval with the soggy lump of sugar sticking to his palm that had once been a cube.

The stablemaster had caught him once early on and, not believing Tertius when he said he was just there to talk to his mare, made him muck out a stable as penance. In the end he had only managed a small corner before the stablemaster had thrown his hands into the air and given up on making a skinny five-year-old aristocrat heave dung.

"Shouldn't you be in classes? Or running around like kids are supposed to with their friends?" the stablemaster had asked, after watching Tertius visit enough times to know he truly was saying hello to Stardust for the company and nothing more.

Tertius wilted, his fingers scritching Stardust's withers and making her eyes close in sleepy approval. It was true he had classes that day, but the classes were troubling. While most of the students hadn't had their magic grow in yet, their lessons mostly consisted of practicing learning runes, learning the theory behind casting spells and visualizations. The former of which came easily enough to Tertius, but the latter proved to be a struggle.

He was good at picturing things with his mind, which the enchanter had explained was an important part of learning how to cast. Closing his eyes and envisioning with all the focus he had came naturally to Tertius, and was something he had practiced trying to draw things even before he came to the Circle. The difficult part was looking inside to figure out how he felt. The enchanter had assured them all that knowing yourself was absolutely critical in protecting yourself from possession, to know what voices were your own and which voices were coming from beyond.

That exercise was a bit more complicated when he had voices whispering to him that he was pretty sure at this point he wasn't supposed to have. Even when the enchanter spoke of those other voices, she had always framed it as "in the future" and "when you dream" and "asking you for things". None of which seemed to apply to Tertius' particular problem.

In a way, this was good. It meant the distant, unintelligible murmurs weren't demons trying to trick him. Tertius couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but he had a hunch they weren't asking for anything. Most of the time it felt as if they weren't even aware he was listening, and he never truly felt threatened or scared by the voices, even when they had first arrived. He hardly ever mistook them for sounds in the room that others could hear too, and his accuracy in picking that out only grew keener as he practiced.

But when his only assignments to work on outside of class is to "practice listening to his own internal voice", he felt uniquely isolated having the added need to shut out the whispers that would not go away no matter how he clasped his hands over his ears.

"I like it here," Tertius said, simply. "It'sss, quiet."

That was true as well. The stables were some distance away from the Circle proper, out on the edge of the grounds. The farther he went from the Circle's towers, the softer the voices grew, and when he rode he felt the same peace he did at night, when he squinted down at the anatomy drawings that seemed to sooth the invisible crowd that followed him.

He didn't need to worry about the whispers when he was out visiting the stables and he didn't worry about how his own words clipped and caught on his teeth when he spoke; his only audience the stablehands (mostly disinterested slaves who wouldn't concern themselves with him anyway) and Stardust. He could ride in peace, or sit listening to the patter of rain on the stable's roof as he sketched out the face of the big charger who watched him curiously accross the stable's aisle. He would blow his breath gently on the page, brushing away charcoal dust and errant straw, feeling alone but no longer lonely.

At night, Tertius felt lonely but not alone. He couldn't justify sleeping out in the stables, no matter how quiet he'd promise he'd be or how comfortable he swore the piles of hay were (although he lied- they prickled and poked at him whenever he sat on them, to say nothing of laying down). Even if he did, he imagined he'd wake feeling groggy and strange like when he napped in the atrium or out on his estate's patio. But sleeping back in the Circle meant the voices would forever pester him as he laid down to sleep, and he was constantly being chastised by the patrolling dorm prefect to "snuff that light and go to sleep, Maker's sake!"

At first, Tertius' solution was to sleep practically on top of the dense anatomy reference book he had checked out from the library, holding it like some of the other students held stuffed toys. The whispers were silent only when he had the thing opened, but having it so close felt comforting and right, and when he got bored he'd slip it open to one of the illustrations and squint at it in the dark.

Later, Tertius grew bolder, realizing that the prefects and dorm master had little time to focus on him when he wasn't being genuinely disruptive. He was quiet and obedient during the day, taking so frequent naps that he was asleep nearly as often as he was awake, but that certainly stemmed from his nocturnal adventures after lights out. It had only taken a few days to figure out the patrol's schedule, and after constructing a Tertius-shaped lump with his pillow that he thought was actually quite impressive, he crept between the partitioned beds and slipped silently into the Circle's dark corridors.

It was all very exciting, pretending to hide in the enclaves of the Tevinter architecture and dodging older students as he ghosted through the halls. Outside the dormitory wing few people gave him a second glance, even with how young he was. Granted, there weren't many people up and about at that time of night, but there were always a sprinkling of older students hard at work in the library, academically-induced neuroticism making them interesting subjects for people-watching.

Tertius spent a great deal of his time at night, trotting silent and free between the tall walls of bookshelves and exploring. There was a loft that overlooked most of the lower level, piles of pillows and blankets and low tables for resting food as the students worked, which he enjoyed using to get a bird's eye view of everyone up reading and studying.

There he first noticed how some of the bookcases overlapped reading enclaves, making little hidden dens he could hide in if he squirmed through one of the lower shelves. He tried it instantly, counting out the bookcases carefully and then finally pulling out all the texts in the bottom row. Sure enough, there was space behind the gap of books, enough for him to stretch out with one of the glowing stones they lent out in the library (as lanterns and other open flames were banned near the books) and some food and pencils. Like having his own little room. Delightful!

That's not to say the Library was the only place Tertius visited during the night. He stayed indoors, true, but he enjoyed sneaking into classrooms while they were not in use, his lantern illuminating the austere trappings of those that were meant for the older students. It appeared that the classroom he attended were purposefully childish with their large-lettered postings and more fanciful hung pictures. For the most part, he couldn't say the classroom for older children were preferable. The exception was one room in the east wing that had a very pretty painting of a horse galloping. That one was okay.

Wherever he went, the whispers would follow. It became a more distant bother gradually, something different about him like his stutter or Stardust, but neither bad nor good. After a time Tertius realized he was probably able to ignore the voices well enough and sleep at night like the others, but slinking around proved to be so enjoyable he elected to spend his free time at night.

That changed one night when he was exploring the northern wing for the first time. He had been amusing himself on the staircases, skipping up and down the steps and counting out the numbers quietly to himself, when he realized he had gone lower and lower. Looking down the hallway, he saw that the tall windows that lined the corridor walls were gone and replaced by panes of stained glass, illuminated from behind by a kind of magic Tertius couldn't make out through the foggy translucent. He was below ground, on one of the Circle's basement floors.

This place called to him.

Not only literally, with the whispers growing louder and most distinct, more recognizable and just inches away from something he could understand, but there was a deep longing in his chest that felt familiar and right. He walked slowly down the hallway, his boots echoing throughout the empty rooms in the dead of night.

As he moved, he peeked into the rooms, silently observing the wide, low-set tables and stools and the abandoned books still open to where people had last read them. Eyes looked blindly down on him from above, drifting in their jars of formaldehyde next to the strange shapes of other, less placeable organs.

The naturalist's labs.

Tertius smiled faintly, taking in the welcoming, chemical smell. He wouldn't have classes here for years yet, but it already felt like home. He skulked across the hallway to the adjacent classroom to see how many of the body parts there he could label, and if the older students had any experiments out that he could observe.

It was only when the familiar ache of tiredness in his small body warned at the impending dawn did Tertius abandon the labs, hopping up the stairs just in time to see the reverse silhouette of the sunrise begin to form and stretch over the floors of the first story's halls. Just in time to run out and catch Stardust for a pet and a kiss before the other kids would be waking up.

--

He returned that night, compelled by the feeling of home and by the still-nebulous voices that spoke just beyond his hearing. The stables were a haven for him during the day, warm and quiet and filled with the earthy scent of sweat and dung, but in the blue cast of the night Tertius felt compelled to the antithesis, the cold and abandoned and chemical, where the whispers commanded him loudest.

He returned again and again, sometimes looking at the big, beautiful diagrams of disected creatures drawn in chalk on the board by lanternlight and later, when his magic began to smolder into life, by the tiny, flickering magelight that was the first spell he and the other children were taught. The first time he had brought his staff down with him to the lab, he had ended up stowing it in one of the rooms for the night, so distracting was the voices. But he remained curious as to their nature, and drawn to experimenting with the phenomena how he could. Ran tests as he ventured deeper and further into the labs, and recorded the changes in the whispers as he heard them in his sketch book, next to drawings of bones.

Naturalist's words, like he read in his books. He'd be a proper researcher, practice for when he grew up.

It was a warmer night when, amongst the whispers, Tertius heard a true voice. He instantly knew it was real, that it was there and present in a way the others had not been, and he leapt up from where he was sitting and reading in the dark to follow this new development, only pausing to grab his sketchbook.

He spirited towards the sounds, excited for even a hint at what they had been saying all this time now that one was close enough to record, and jumped at a shrill scream that ended abruptly.

Tertius wondered in fear for only half a moment, before he crept cautiously forward. He knew the whispers weren't bad, they weren't sounds like that, and when he turned down the next corridor and to the sound he was proven right. One of the doors was left ajar, a low light cutting a yellow line against the ground where it peeked through.

It hadn't been the whispers, Tertius realized, almost disappointed that there would be no resolution or even a new discovery in his own strangeness. But then, he had visited the labs at night many times, and they had always been deserted. Why would that suddenly change?

Tertius inched forward, cringing and flinching at the sounds of wailing and impact, of whispers from present people and what sounded like laughter or sobbing, he couldn't really tell. Gradually, slowly, he gathered up at the mouth of the room and aligned his eye with the sliver of open door.

There were older students there, crowding around and delighted with their entertainment: one of them held a large sack, the kind Tertius had seen slaves haul to the kitchen, filled with foodstuffs. they had one end gathered up as the bag squirmed.

There was something in it.

It was too big. There was someone in it.

The muffled screaming had an origin now, at odds with the laughter of the older apprentices. The one holding the sack loosened the gathered section enough for another to drop something- what Tertius could not see- into the bag and clamp it up behind it, gut-busting laughter following as the thrashing in the bag redoubled.

"Do another one, do another one!" one of the boys goaded in a loud hush.

Tertius didn't wait around and see if the other obliged. He did not understand this, but he knew with the same instinct that told him to hide the whispers that this was wrong, that he needed to tell someone, and he trusted that instinct. He fled.

[mirandamckenni1]

Laboratorium Pieśni - Lecieli żurauli (Ой ляцелі жураўлі) OUR CDs: https://ift.tt/HoODmxF NASZE PŁYTY: https://ift.tt/nRGb39x Belarusian traditional song 'Lecieli żurauli' (Flying cranes), arranged by a Polish singing group - Laboratorium Pieśni / Song Laboratory. Song from the first album of the band - 'Rosna'. Białoruska pieśń tradycyjna "Lecieli żurauli" (Leciały żurawie), w aranżacji zespołu Laboratorium Pieśni. Pieśń z pierwszej płyty zespołu pt. "Rosna". voices / głosy: Alina Jurczyszyn, Kamila Bigus, Lila Bosowska, Iwona Bajger, Magda Jurczyszyn, Karolina Stawiszyńska, Alina Klebba, Klaudia Lewandowska video: Kamila Chomicz - http://kamilachomicz.pl recording / nagranie: Sound Factory - Paweł Gawlik mix: Sound Factory - Paweł Gawlik mastering: Picture Records - Paweł Gawlik shamanic drums / bębny szamańskie: Metaphoric Tools - https://ift.tt/pgHx5eu koshi chimes / dzwonki Koshi: http://koshi.fr/ https://ift.tt/ldFeWGb http://youtube.com/laboratoriumpiesni https://ift.tt/0QkphXK https://ift.tt/uEPGi8V https://ift.tt/KCun3fd ABOUT US / O NAS: Laboratorium Pieśni – Song Laboratory (world/ethno/spiritual/mystic folk music) is a female group of singers from Poland, created in 2013. Using traditional, polyphonic singing they perform songs from all over the world, mainly: Ukraine, Balkans, Belarus, Georgia, Scandinavia, Poland and many other places. They sing a capella as well as with shaman drums and other ethnic instruments (shruti box, kalimba, flute, gong, zaphir and koshi chimes, singing bowls, rattles etc.), creating a new space in a traditional song, adding voice improvisations, inspired by sounds of nature, often intuitive, wild and feminine. Laboratorium Pieśni – Song Laboratory (world/etno/spiritual/mystic folk music) to trójmiejski, kobiecy zespół pieśniarek, powstały w 2013 roku. Grupa śpiewa i aranżuje tradycyjne pieśni polifoniczne: ukraińskie, bułgarskie, białoruskie, serbskie, albańskie, bośniackie, polskie, a także gruzińskie, skandynawskie, oksytańskie i wiele innych. Pieśni Świata wykonują zarówno a capella, jak i przy akompaniamencie bębnów szamańskich i innych etnicznych instrumentów (m.in. shruti box, dzwonków, przeszkadzajek, fletu, kalimby, mis, gongu), wnosząc w pieśni tradycyjne nową aranżację, przestrzeń improwizacji głosowych, inspirowanych dźwiękami natury, często intuicyjnych, dzikich, kobiecych. via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkxKfDmKzrk

[musocmusic]

Hohes Niveau mal wieder beim 61. Song Slam im Münchner Theater Drehleier. Bei vollem Haus feierte das Publikum die acht Teilnehmer und setzten dem Jazz Hiphop Kollektiv mit der blauen Tonne – Mango Mindset – die Krone auf. Mehr von Joachim Mack morgen.

Die Anmeldung für den 5. März ist bereits geöffnet. Wer teilnehmen will: Jetzt noch schnell anmelden!

Pfeiffende Eröffnung: nussig

Nimmt sich Zeit: Alina Abgarjan

Bayerischer Rock am Klavier: deEVA

Shakespeare meets Hip Hop: Mango Mindset

Mit Hip Hop Jazz auf Platz 1: Mango Mindset

Markenzeichen blaue Tonne: Mango Mindset

Von Prinz Porno bis Shakespeare: Mango Mindset mischt es alles

Das doppelte Saxofon von Boris und Emmanuel

One-Man-Band dank Gitarre und Bluesharp aus dem Allgäu: Sandesch

Mit flotten Grooves und Stimmung auf Platz 3: Alex Perez & The Lights

Kubanisch-amerikanische Samtstimme und ungarischer Gitarrist: Magnetic Bonbons

A capella und am Klavier beeindruckend: Patricia von Thun

Klassisch-sozialkritisches Songwriting: Uli Schell

Poetry Slammerin kam das Land abhanden: Katrin Freiburghaus

Mango Mindset bei der Zugabe

Die glücklichen Finalisten: Mango Mindset und Alina Abgarjan

Der 61. MuSoC Song Slam in Bildern Hohes Niveau mal wieder beim 61. Song Slam im Münchner Theater Drehleier. Bei vollem Haus feierte das Publikum die acht Teilnehmer und setzten dem Jazz Hiphop Kollektiv mit der blauen Tonne - Mango Mindset - die Krone auf.