#completely incompetent but with fantastic benefits??'

[lostandbackagain]

ghostbloods workplace mocumentary where kell is in some meeting and twinsoul whispers in his ear 9/11 style and it cuts to kelsier talking to the camera like "mraize can be.. overzealous. I did not ask him to kill the kholin princess. wish he hadn't. but I can't fire him, he's union."

[cooganbegs-blog]

Wow, what a blast from the past!

One of the (only??) good concepts to come out of the B-Hive was that they got everyone in the company to write an email to themselves back in January 2022, it just arrived in my inbox and wow….what an eye opener!! Close on some things, not even close on others!!

<start>

Dear Future Me,

Wow, what a year! Looking back you've achieved a LOT!

1. Congrats on your promotion to Director of Product! You worked really hard and planned and then achieved this. It's the first step in your journey to VP Product and then finally CPO.

(Somewhat True! I’m not Director Product at the B-Hive but I am Head of Product at the E-Hive! And plan it , I did!)

2. Continuing to work with Queen Bee was instrumental this year in getting you the skills to move into this role. Working with VPE has also been game changer, for your growth but also for the B-Hive, he was a really key part of our success.

(True! Learning from and being coached by the Queen Bee has been one of the main reasons I’m here! VPE proved ineffective and kept himself siloed)

3. Sitting down in January and thinking about where you want to be and making a plan of attack to get there was i think the key to your success.

(True: plus The Great Clusterfuck and then three months of managing my career in the same way I product manage customer problems! Nothing like doing a Retro and a priority mapping to uncover a career path! 🤣)

4. Fucking great plan to drop the farm, getting back to gardening on a small scale has brought the joy and relaxation back to growing. And how amazing does the little garden look now!

(True!!)

5. Getting a book keeper for The businesses was also a bloody great idea.... it took a few months of pain in the transition but totally worth it now

(True!)

6. Going back to working a normal 5 day week 8-4pm with weekends, wow, what a GREAT plan!

(True!)

7. You had some fantastic bushwalks, finally managed to crack the Overland track!! 👏👏👏

(True!)

8. The little office pod down the back is such a great space for you to be alone and to set up a space that is just you, your taste, your pictures, your style, your getaway.

(True: almost! I have an office at home, finally, for the first time ever! No working off the kitchen bench, or out of the wardrobe! My very own space with all my special things! The pain required to get it makes it all the more cherished!)

9. <removed due to personal nature!>

10. You have a team of four product managers,!!! )It was a bit bumpy getting your leadership style down, but now it's a happy, humming, productive team that is really shifted the dial on what we produce in the product. VPE really helped you with managing and supporting your team.

(Kind of! I have one direct report, recruiting for the second currently! And the VPE was unhelpful on every level and the B-Hive is still a tussle between engineering and sales)

11. Your call on doing Product Option 1 instead of Product Option 2 etc was a sound one, it was due to the trust that VPE and VPP gave to you and the business case you put together. GREAT JOB!!

(WTF!? Trust? What a fucking joke!! What delusional fantasy planet was I living on! More like, let’s get her the fuck out of our area of the business, so we don’t have to deal with all her uncomfortable questions!)

12. The Incompetent Boss has moved into a Head of Product Design Role and things are much clearer now

(False: incompetency was rewarded in the B-Hive, up you go if you’re a bloke and you have no fucking idea what you’re doing!)

13. 2023 will be the year of VP of Product

(TBC: we’re not there yet! Head of Product for the next 2-3 years will do me just fine!)

14. Getting the Product Processes work completed was key to your promotion, so good work on not giving up!! Your change of mindset from doing extra work to help The Incompetent Boss get promoted to helping you get promoted but also for the benefit of the teams and the wider company was a game changer.

(False: he got promoted, I got arsed fucked sideways, without permission!!)

15. Good work on sticking to mediation EVERY day ...can you believe you've got a 365 day streak?!

(False: 3 months max!!)

16. Congrats on running the Bruny ultra again!! Starting from scratch was hard but you did!

(False: this is a sore point, literally and metaphorically! Hamstring Tendonopathy is a fucking nightmare, especially when it’s of my own making! Note to Self, don’t keep running for 6 months on steadily increasing pain, it results in a 12 month recovery period of zero running, grumpiness and weight gain. Have learned this lesson VERY FUCKING well!)

Well, you started out the year having COVID, and then a series of the most painful emotional encounters to date. You thought 2022 couldn't get any worse, and you were right! 2022 was a bit of a rollercoaster but you had your 3 northstars to guide you (Director of Product by May 2022, daily meditation, Bruny Island Ultra) and you stuck to it and look where you are now!

Your confidence has also grown, with your move into a more strategic role, the emphasis on engineering know-how has lessoned and enabled you to be more confident and relaxed in your knowledge and experience.

Congrats!! What will 2023 hold?!

<end>

…..I’m going to write another one!! Fucking cool concept!

[fallen029]

Beginning of the central plot for the next part of OpB. Almost finished with everything as whole, just feel bad that it’s been a few months, so here’s this if you want it. 

Joya was a proud, but small nation that Haven had only heard of in passing and Locke knew very little about. But, same as all nations, its port cities seemed to be the same as else where. Docks and shops and people milling about. It was easy to sneak into the country without going through any proper channel when it was exiting off a known boat with steady and shady connections.

Jed was silent for once, completely, even as they were still somewhat out from the shore. Just the lights of his home country, something he’d never thought he’d glimpse again, was enough for him to bow his head in silence.

The others left him alone to his thoughts.

There was no ploy or pretending as they left the boat. Carrying of crates or anything like that. Just one of the guys Haven knew calling out to her, remarking that they had three days; the evening of that last day, he was pulling out of Joya and they could either find themselves there or left behind.

“We should give him a few minutes,” Locke muttered to the women as, once they were on the docks, Jed stumbled off in a bit of a daze while the three of them hung back. “And figure out where we’re headed first.”

“Three days?” Shae snorted, glancing over at Locke. “We won’t have enough time to go both places.”

“We’ll split up then,” Haven suggested. “Two people go one way, two go the other. We meet up back here. I’ll go with Jed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Shae retorted as the blonde only ignored her.

“And you and Shae,” she went on, “go get that woman or whatever, Locke.”

“Will you actually get back here in time?” he questioned. “And not get yourself into any trouble? This is a tight timeline. Splitting up makes it even more-”

“I actually probably feel better about not showing up at her house with four people,” Shae offered with a bit of a shrug. “And it shouldn’t take me long to just….ask. That’s all I gotta do. You know? Ask a question. Just ask. And then-”

“Jed and I’ll probably have more fun than you guys anywyas,” Haven remarked over the other woman.

“Yeah,” Locke retorted with a frown. “Taking an emotionally shattered man to his deceased father’s home sounds like a walk in the park.”

She stopped short suddenly, Haven did, causing someone walking behind them to nearly bump into her. As that person grumbled at the woman though, she only frowned ahead at Locke and Shae.

“Wait, I wanna switch,” she insisted then. “Locke. You go do that.”

“Nope?”

“What?”

“No.”

“Locke-”

“You wanted to bring him, Haven. And you kept insisting that he’s your friend, so-”

“Shae’s my friend too,” the blonde insisted. But when she tried to toss her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, she was only shoved off. “Shae-”

“Yeah, no,” Shae retorted simply.

“Then...Locke come with me and Jed! Don’t be a creeper, crashing Shae’s reunion with her girlfriend.”

“Haven,” the man finally sighed, exasperated some. “You knew that he was going there for that reason. Why are you acting like this about it now?”

“Because I didn’t think of it the way that you said.” And she hadn’t. At all. Jed, up to this point, had mostly been someone she spwed her views onto. The idea of him potentially requiring her comfort was terrifying and she knew with certainty would only result in her screwing it up. “So really, it’s your fault and you should have to go with him.”

“Just think about whatever you were thinking about before I put the thoughts into yoru head.”

“I can’t! I wasn’t thinking anything then!”

The man nodded down at her. “I believe that.”

“You’re better at this shit than me, Locke,” she insisted then, trying her best to sound pathetic. On Haven, it just felt flat and empty. “You go with him, okay? And me and Shae-”

“No.” The other woman couldn’t give Haven a chance to sway her boyfriend. She’d see the two of them interact enough the past few months to know that, soon enough, the convincing would be complete. “You can’t switch.”

“Why not?” Haven frowned at the other woman then and they’d all stopped walking, at the end of a street corner, standing around staring at one another. “You think that I can’t help you with this one? I conned Locke’s ass into getting back with me whenever I wanted.”

“I happened to be in between people every single time you- Shut up, Haven,” he complained some with a frown while Haven only shrugged some at the other woman.

“If you want help in this,” the blonde kept up, “then you should pick me to go with you.”

Shae rolled her eyes before looking off, back out at the water. To Haven she remarked simply, “Hard pass.”

“Sorry, Have,” Locke snickered as his girlfriend glared up at him. “Looks like you and your best friend are gonna go have some heartfelt moments together. A new type of adventure for you, yeah?”

They couldn’t take much longer out of their already short schedule for arguing the inevitable. Jed returned to them eventually, a bit misty eyed, but alright otherwise, and they all had one last meal together before splitting up. Shae and Locke would be taking a train one way while Haven and Jed merely had a day or so’s walk.

“Don’t get into too much trouble, okay?” Locke insisted to Haven as he hugged her goodbye. The woman was stiff in his grasp, angry over him not allowing her off easy for once, but that was fine for the man. Rigid described Haven in a lot of ways, honestly. “I know new places make it difficult for you to control yourself.”

“Number one,” Haven carped, “I’m always in control. Always.” As he released her, she only took a step closer, whispering the next part only to the man, “Number two, I’m going with someone to his dead father’s abandoned place. For your benefit. So shut the fuck up, Locke. Idiot.”

He smiled though, reaching out to pat the woman on the top of her head, replying simply, “I love you too, Haven.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Come on.” Shae glared over at the two of them. “Locke. We have to go.”

“Safe travels to the two of you as well,” Jed was sure to bid the both of them farewell. “I hope to see you in better spirits when we meet again, Shae.”

No matter how things went, somehow the woman doubted that.

Locke kissed Haven before tapping her on the head and following after the departing Shae. The train was boarding and they were gone, just like that, and Haven didn’t wait to see it leave the station. Rather, she snorted a bit, at nothing really, before turning on her heel to start on her own journey.

“There should be a lot tension on our side of things, I imagine,” Jed offered Haven once they were back on the road. “Don’t you as well? Haven?”

The woman was  actually in the process of glancing over a map with a confused stare. Locke had given it to her after purchasing their train tickets and even ran a finger over a certain path. She’d been more concerned with being cold towards the man then, to commit it to memory, and now she wasn’t sure of where they were headed. The blonde could be, at times, a bit directionally impaired.

When he noted her distraction, Jed merely reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder. After garnering the woman’s gaze, he said simply, “I’ll get us there. I’ve been to this port many times in my youth. It is not a far distance.”

It was hard for her to disagree as, no matter how far she’d been in Fiore, she too seemed to always know her way back to Magnolia and its surrounding areas.

She imagined Locke’s trip with Shae to be a lot quieter than her own and almost envied it. Almost. She knew, deep down, that she was not the person to be helping Shae through whatever relationship woes she was going through. Of course she knew. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t rather be there, either sulking about being reprimanded by Locke for an inappropriate tone or question or smoldering over something the other woman had retorted. Now she was left to make the inappropriate remarks alone and, hopefully, police herself on the issue.

Being sympathetic had never been one of her strong suits. Empathetic either.

So she tried to keep the conversations steered towards other things. Jed was an easy person to have a conversation with, Haven had always found, and he seemed rather amused with her shortcomings rather than off put by them.

“You know,” he’d told her once, back at base, when they were doing rounds and she just got finished drifting from telling him about a job she took once and into how incompetent both Ravan and Locke were on it, “you’re very vivacious. In a certain kind of way.”

“Oh yeah?” And she was guarded, that evening, on edge of not only patrol, but also riding down a high from absolutely berating Locke and Ravan, fictionally, in her mind. “What’s that mean, anyways?”

“Vivacious?” The man shook his head. “Like...effervescence.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel stupid-”

“It means that you’re excitable. Enthusiastic.” He laughed at her souring expression. “It’s a good thing. Usually. But I think that your motivations and goals sometimes...make it rub people the wrong way. It can be off-putting. But I like it. You remind me of people I knew, when I was your age. Lively. Excited about what was to come.”

Haven found that she liked him for the opposite reason. She typically found herself drawn to people who were either as vicious as herself or were starch against it, who she would then butt heads with. Most everyone in her life seemed to fit in those categories, some even sliding between them, but Jed reminded her of something from her past as well.

His meekness and content being felt a lot like her sister, who was always the first to listen to Haven’s fantastical tales and, these days at least, seemed pleased to hear most of them. Jed’s aura felt equal to Marin’s, in a low-key way, and she took comfort in him hanging around.

Being her friend.

Haven didn’t have a lot of those. Most people she’d formed some semblance of one with were merely there for usage, on her part or theirs. Jed might’ve been the only person she had at the moment, outside of Xay, who enjoyed her presence.

So he listened, talking idly with her as they hiked together, taking rests for the man in spots, conversation mainly centered on the woman. As was the standard. She spoke some on former jobs and Jed laughed in places, shook his head in concern in others, but was overall impressed with most things she had to say. Having grown up literally in the bar most of the time, she’d long learned the art of a tall tale and, there with a rapt audience, she gave way to her most braggadocios, slanted and one-sided versions of events she could muster.

For someone who hadn’t grown up around mages much, Jed found them to be more like comic adventures he’d spent his childhood reading, only drawn out and less plot thoughtful, in the way life truly was, rather than concise and consistent. Haven had a knack for losing interest, in the middle fo tales, when it got too difficult to spin it in her favor, and they would just be transported, it felt like, straight to the next battle scene where she could shove her prowess off on someone who knew nothing of such feats.

Everyone in her life was a caricature of their actual selves, as it related to Haven, and it all felt so magical and distant, even from her own perspective. Maybe that was why, after being exposed to this for a number of weeks, that Jed felt so bold as to ask a question, make a request almost, for a story, as they took a breather on the side of a path. Haven was knocking back some water while he sat, on a stone, catching his breath some.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Haven hardly even shrugged, glancing over at the man in anticipation.

He smiled some, Jed did, in a curious way, pondering aloud almost as he asked, “Why is it that you and your father don’t get along?”

She choked a bit, on the water, even making a face at the mention of the man.

“Laxus?” She snorted. “I was just saying that he was pissy about how Ravan and I handled the job. That’s all.”

“No, I understood the story,” he assured the blonde. “I couldn’t imagine I would like it much either, if I had a child who was constantly taking such risk-”

“It’s not that.” And she snorted again, feeling weird now as she moved to take another, smoother, sip from her canteen. Taking in a breath after, she said, “He’s not...worried about me. He never was. That wasn’t the point.”

“The point?”

“Of...him. And how we are.” She frowned. “He was drunk. A lot. When I was a teen. And jealous that I was primed to be a better mage than him. Or something. I don’t know. He probably doesn’t even know. He’s a drunk asshole. I mean he was. Then. It’s different now. The drinking part. But he’s still an asshole.”

Jed was silent for a moment, making sure the woman had finished speaking before offering simply, “I’m sure he was.”

“Of course he was.”

“My father could be...pushy and distant as well. When I was growing up.” He got to his feet, pulling his pack onto his back once more. “Strangely, though, when I think back on our interactions, they don’t seem nearly as harsh as I remember feeling them in the time. I suppose our mind, our memories, paint things the second they’re absorbed. It’s why you can never take someone fully on their word, hm?”

She’d been duped. By the man. Knowingly or not, he’d walked her into the topic she was hoping to avoid.

“I’m not a liar,” Haven defended, momentarily confused by his approach, but Jed only shook his head.

“I know,” he agreed. “That is how you view your interactions with your father. It is the truth. I guess I mean to imply, how different it might be, to address them ten years from now, as I am with my own father. When I was your age, I ran off as well. With my own ideas and morals. It’s the way it has to be, for some of us. You either become your parent or you become the polar opposite. Conform or run away. Believe it or not, I did my fair share of both. Before he died.”

His voice fell off here and Haven felt something, the natural urge to not only know more, but to also just further the conversation. It was futile to fight it, as she’d known, the second she realized she was stuck in this fruitless misadventure.

So she tired to think like Locke. Instead. Because he was never nervous about speaking to others, even in such dramatic situations, and it got her out of a lot of sticky situations. Shutting up was usually best and letting Locke take over, in these parts of things, but to have to become him, almost…

“How long ago was it?” she whispered softly as they’d become to walk again, at Jed’s pace, and he smiled over at the woman when she questioned this.

“Four years,” he replied with a soft nod of his head. “I just turned thirty-one and he’d sent me a card, in the mail, that I didn’t wish to open just yet. Our last correspondence hadn’t been pleasant and I just...shoved it aside. I would deal with it later. But, a few days came to pass and I hadn’t. Then another letter came. Not from him, but from our home town, and I… Knew. Somehow, I just knew. He hadn’t been sick. I even opened the card he sent and it made no mention of feeling unwell. So how did I know then? Before I even read the words? That he had… How do you feel those sorts of things?”

Staring over at the man, Haven’s first reaction was to respond with something from her own life. Her own feelings on the matter. But she was able to bite it back, thinking to Locke instead, and finding it in herself to ask, “How did he die?”

“It’s the strangest thing.” Jed even laughed a bit. “Healthiest man you’d ever seen for his age. Dead. Just dropped, one day, in his lab. His assistant found him and it was an entire madhouse, at first, but turns out he had a heart attack. Cardiac arrest. Just like that.” And he snapped, Jed did, with a shake of his head. “Everything can change, just like that.”

Haven didn’t like this assessment of death, especially given it had never been how she’d rightly viewed it. You died in the heat of battle or as a decrepit old shell of your former self, left over after all the other battles were complete.

There was no in between.

She understood, of course, at the core of the idea, that yes, people did die of unforeseen causes. They might get sick or hit by a carriage. Maybe they drank themselves to death or even tripped and hit their head too hard. They could be murdered in the heat of a robbery or even in just a lovers quarrel gone wrong.

But those weren’t the kinds of deaths that she foresaw for herself or any of the friends she had.

You died fighting.

Always.

She’d died fighting.

The idea of not even having a chance at wading off your whatever brought about your death was somehow more terrifying than the idea itself and she pictured losing her father that way. Her parents. Just in the blink of the eye. No one to be angry at, no way to avenge them. Everything can change.

Just like that.

“His home is a bit remote though,” Jed was going on while Haven had fallen into silence. “I had to lug all of his belongings back from the lab, to his cabin, following his death. I stayed there for two weeks following his death, not sure what I was going to do with the place, and then I left. For the coast. To clear my head. And I never rightly returned. I hope to find all of his papers still in order, but-”

“How were you taken, then?”

“Hm?”

“To Ewings? Or wherever you passed through first?”

These were the kinds of questions, Haven realized, Locke would have reprimanded her for and avoided himself. While the events of the summer just felt like a big, long job for Haven, they were attached to trauma for others and she saw it then, as Jed paused, momentarily, bringing his wrist up to his face and rubbing at it, right where his marking would have lied.

“I was one of the foolish ones, I suppose.” Sighing, he continued on, walking a bit faster now, as he thought back on the time. “Fell in love with the wrong woman. I...did something wrong, to her, and she sought revenge on me.”

“What did you do to her?” Haven whispered softly before, realizing the implication, adding, “And how did she get you sent to Bosco?”

“I cheated on her. With another woman.” Jed glanced back and down at her. “Her brother ran a ring out of Joya and into Bosco. I had no idea about this, of course, but…”

“So she fucking sold you to the wolves?”

“She was a rather...volatile woman.” He looked uneasy as he turned his gaze back onto the pathway before them. “In a good kind of way, when we were happy. But when we weren’t-”

“I’m volatile,” Haven intervened and Jed made no motion to deny this fact, merely nodded his head. Going on, the woman insisted, “But I would never do something like that. That’s evil.”

“Then you’re just volatile,” Jed offered her. “Not evil.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We don’t have much further,” he changed the subject as he glanced around what lay before them. “We won’t need to go into the actual town, but rather hit a small, hidden path right before the one that breaks off into the city. We can spend some time at the cabin, look things over, and then go into the city for a meal. What we need is either there or not. I suppose that will make things rather boring, on your end, hm? Shae and Locke have a much more interesting journey.”

“Maybe,” Haven replied softly, but she was thinking beyond the cabin now, beyond Locke’s stupid papers that she wasn’t even certain he needed nor wanted. And towards something else. “But maybe not.”

Locke would have sworn he felt it, the second a bad idea popped into his girlfriend’s mind, and he groaned, loudly, as he sat across from Shae on the long train ride they were stuck with. She hardly noted it though, continuing to glare out the window as she thought about what was awaiting them.

“Maybe,” Locke had offered more than once, “she’ll be happy to see you.”

“Maybe,” Shae agreed softly, but much like Haven, she was leaning a lot more towards the not.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Um, hi! Is it okay if I request a few items? Specifically some items that can be found in the Feywild or fey enchanted/cursed? Sorry for the trouble.

Sure I take requests :) Here is a variety of items that are generally related to fey. 

A cup-hilted rapier crafted by the fey and decorated with a fantastic depiction of the Wild Hunt. A bearer grasping the handle is flooded with the energy of a predator on the hunt: excitement, hunger and bloodlust. When wielded in combat, the wielder can hear the bellowing sounds of a hunting horn blasting in the distance, rousing him into a murderous frenzy.  

A cold iron scroll tube containing a signed parchment, entitling the bearer to one unspecified favor or service from a local fey princeling. Knowledgeable PC’s will know that although the favor doesn’t seen to have a catch or price, nothing is ever truly free with the fey.

A fey made tome bound in sheet of smooth bark gilded in silver entitled “Lexicon of Stealing Mortal Babies”. The text is a guide to obtaining newborns from humans with tricks. The book is written in sylvan and the pages are transparent sheets, made from giant insect wings with text painted on.

A sealed glass vial filled with the dried and shredded mushrooms from an entire fairy ring.

A strange flute of rubbery blue fibers interspaced with five holes. If played as an instrument by one skilled enough, it can replicate the unearthly music of fey creatures.

A jagged amber rob with a dead fairy sprite entombed within.

A discrete brownish book the size of a deck of cards without decoration or title. Its contests reveal themselves to be a Changeling training manual and guidebook on how the fey train the supernatural shapeshifters to infiltrate humans, live among them and carry out their nefarious goals.

Weeping Willow: A foot tall willow sapling in a glass bottle that survives indefinitely while sealed in the glass. When the glass is broken, the sapling can be planted in the ground and begins to grow at twice the normal rate for a willow tree. This specific plant is a magical species known as a Weeping Willow. Instead of drawing water from the ground by its roots it to sustain itself, it instantly teleports freshly shed tears from sentient creatures into itself. The moment a sentient creature cries within the Weeping Willow’s range of effect (A 500 ft radius centered on the tree), the tears immediately vanish and are used as sustenance for the tree. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that the actual origin of this magical species is not well known and most stories believe it to have been the helpful but misguided attempt at a comforting gesture by a minor god or fey creature.  Legend has it that the creator saw that sentient creatures always seemed to cry when they were sad and thought that if the willow took away their tears, they wouldn’t be sad anymore. Other stories believe the willow to be a form of foul parasite that thrives on suffering and sadness. Those stories portray a trickster fey or petty demon who sows seeds of Weeping Willows which subtlety encourages anguish within its area in order to feed on more tears. Regardless of it’s origin, Weeping Willows are fairly rare and are usually found in places where tears are commonly shed as those are the only places where it can survive. Adult Weeping Willows can be located in places of great or recurring misery such as war memorials, hospitals, hospices, orphanages, graveyards and prisons. Whether its effect on the creatures in it’s radius is a blessing or a curse is up to each person to decide on their own.

A sealed glass vial filled with pure spring water taken the Feywild.

A brass bell that always stays highly polished and resembles the sound of strange laughter when rung. It is rumored to open doors to the Feywild.

Pillow of the Sleepless Fey: A comfortable pillow which appears to be designed for a child. Stitched into one side is the name Nodwick. If a creature sleeps upon this pillow during the night, small fairies will come to him and will extract 1d6 teeth while the user sleeps. The miniature fey will sprinkle generous amount of fairie dust in the user’s mouth which instantly heal the wounds and take away all pain associated with the process. Upon awakening, the user is filled with a supernatural vitality which causes him not to require any sleep or rest for a number of days equal to the number of teeth lost plus one. If the fey are prevented from removing the teeth for any reason, the user is not affected by the fairie dust and does not receive any benefits.

Caustic Talon: A scimitar made entirely from rare, enchanted ironwood and blessed by a fey spirit in the form of a forest dragon. The fey creature’s personal style manifested itself on the weapon and the blade retains the grain of the ironwood, its dark grey and deep brown streaks are now lined with brilliant streams of emerald acid that slither between the grain of the wood. Deep green dragon scales run along the spine of the blade, turning into leaves as they meet the hilt. The vine-wrapped handle spirals down to the dragon-headed pommel, its face locked in a fierce snarl. When the weapon is swung, the acid in the blade can be heard sizzling in anticipation of landing a hit, but the caustic liquid never spills its power in waste. Half of the damage dealt by the scimitar is considered acid damage while the rest is normal for its type.

Fey Pillow: A silvery cushion which sparkles in the moonlight and always feels cool to touch. When used, the creature will hear the whispers of the fairy king while they sleep. In the morning the cushion will produce a small crystal that contains the creature's dreams which may be watched on it's reflective surface. There is a 5% chance that the crystal's dreams belong to a prior owner of the cushion. The crystals the pillow produces melt into fresh dew after 24 hours.

A letter from an unknown sender that simply reads, “I told you so!”. The return address is plainly labeled “Feywild”.

A sealed glass vial filled with magically preserved, High-Elf Pipeweed. Knowledgeable PC’s will know that this hemp originates from the forest courts where it has been impregnated with the deep magic of the Feywild. When the smoke from burning it in a magical fire is inhaled, it may grant arcane visions of the future or the past, and as such is favoured by oracles and soothsayers. Under the effects of antimagic it merely produces a light-headed feeling and a desire to eat apples.

A steel flask with a safety latch attached. A sloshing liquid can be heard inside. The flask contains a delicious fey honey.

A wooden scroll tube containing a parchment scroll, sealed with wax that is an invitation to the Yew-Lord’s banquet. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the title of the Yew-Lord, as a powerful Arch-Fey.  

A pan flute carved from the bones of a unicorn which when played, do not make the slightest sound to most creatures. Only fae and fairy kin creatures can hear the tortured sounds of the unicorn’s spirit and they will often seek revenge for their fallen kin.  

Crosswind: An ancient longbow originally gifted to a forest ranger who had pledged his life and service to a fey lord. The weapon is made of a light wood and is rather thick, rounded, and has stylized etchings of wind, that are filled-in black. Pink roses and vines are carved along the front and sides of the bow and it is found with a deep leather quiver containing a dozen white arrows fletched with hummingbird feathers and tipped with an unknown green stone. The bow is strung with a string plucked from the fey lord’s own harp and a musical note rings out each time the weapon is used. When fired the bow releases a strong gust of wind that blows along the arrow’s wake and slams into the target. Whenever an arrow loosed by the bow hits a creature of medium size or smaller, the target is pushed back five feet from the blast of wind. —Note: A medium creature is typically no taller or longer than eight feet.

Minor Weapon Enchantment; Bumbling: The emblem of a fairy circle is gilded in silver on the weapon’s grip. The entire weapon is a masterpiece of flowing graceful design, delicately ornate scrollwork and is a tribute to those who made it. Running along its length is a poem written in iambic pentameter, penned in Sylvan, the language of the fey. Those who are able to read it, discover it is not much more than a limerick disparaging the mortal humans and extolling the virtues of the fair folk. The verses have particularly harsh words to say about the incompetence and clumsiness of humanoids and how that in contrast, the fairy peoples are naturally adept in all ways. Any non-fey creature who wields the weapon finds that they are slightly less proficient than usual at completing their normal everyday task, as if the poem was a warning rather than boast. The weapon is treated as a +1 but while the weapon is being wielded and for one hour afterwards, a non-fey wielder suffers a penalty of -1 on all of his skill checks.

A massive cloth and leather banner emblazoned with the unified crests of ten different fey courts.

A bone signet ring displaying the symbol of a large spreading tree. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the image as the symbol of the Yew-Lord, a powerful Arch-Fey.

[allyvampirelass29]

The Hourglass and The Oracle

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A spiraling staircase A bold fuchsia beauty Lights flicker in your eyes As our energies collide And, Darling, you're starting to get to me......

I'm not your Darling, John Buy a girl a drink first Before you thirst For what you can't get your hands on Throwing my head back with a laugh You're going to fall And it's going to be too fast Who said I was yours to catch? Ask me again And I'll ask you to dance

May I have a moment of your time? I don't need to be a Strong Creative, Dear To tease your mind A turn of the hourglass A trick of the sublime You're like sand through my hands Sifting too fast to touch And it's not enough...... You're the exceptional exception When I say we're hard to love.

Sparks fly Drawing you in I'll make you believe in magic again Fate's siren song calls to the Hourglass Man I guess it's my turn To show you my hand But be forewarned, My Gentleman Friend There's no telling what happens When you open the door to the static You might not want the answer Once you have it Shaking the bag Rolling the Dice A cigarette burn is a more than fair price To watch time drain from the Hourglass' eyes Clutching the hurt As your knife catches my eye Shattering your glass Scattering your sand Close your eyes, You Hopeless Flirt This is me, skipping dessert I gotta say you put up one hell of a fight Say goodnight, John You've run out of time

CHECK. FREAKING. MATE!!!!! Ladies and Gentlemen, the MATCH has been called, and the Hourglass didn't stand a chance against the Woman of the Hour, Our Dauntless Oracle, and very own, Miss Margaret Leigh!!! My GOD, Maggie seized her time to shine in a dazzling foray of sultry seduction, and deadly spectacle, and while it may have been The Hourglass' last bow, it was the iridescent ORACLE who stole the show, and she alone deserves our standing ovation!!! I LOVED this episode, beginning to end, the intrigue, the sleek deception, the intense human drama, all beautifully intertwined in this beguiling game within a game, a chess match of like-minded Creative prowess!!! Brava, Miss Leigh, and bravissimo, NOS4A2, for spoiling us yet again!!! "The Hourglass," is a violin overture of vulnerable human moments, and intellectual powerplays, reaching the fever pitch of the most ghastly, scream-bloody-murder cliff hangar of the entire series.

Where last week Charlie was the blunt force trauma, the pounding hammer, smashing everyone and everything in his path to Wayne, Maggie is the stealth strike, the seductively wielded scalpel, removing Charlie's secret weapon with lethal precision, after he proves to be the more immediate threat to her best friend, now that Charlie's absconded with her son. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fuchsia femme fatale, as lovely as she is deadly, the perfect rosé of coy and coquettish as she flirts with time and death itself. It was her finest hour, hands down, and I LOVED that NOS4A2 gave her the spotlight, and that she literally KILLED, leaving us begging for more.

Stop me if you've heard this one before. Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar........ Like an ingenue reminiscent of Old Hollywood, with every lilac strand of her rebellious florescence pinned in place, Maggie descends the long, spiral staircase, sending the lights to flicker, and drawing the eye of an instantly intrigued, Mr. Hourglass. I must say, The Hourglass Man's smooth, and tenacious pursuit of our Maggie, was a FANTASTIC blindsight, a surprise I never saw coming!!! Where I expected a smouldering duel to the death as soon as their eyes met, knives flying, I found myself drawn instead, irresistibly into the tantalizing tango between the two of them. Their witty repartee was both sparkling, and sharp-edged, as John advanced, and Maggie countered, playing hard to get, while secretly drawing him in. It's thrilling to watch, marveling at these seemingly unlikely lovers, and yet, with each move and countermove, I could see how much they thought alike, both crafty intellectuals, who knew how to play the game, and how to win.

"We're hard to love. People fall for us because of our abilities, but they always come to fear the very thing that drew them in. They tell us to tone it down, betray our gifts, like declawing a cat. It's cruel."

This is my favourite line in the entire episode, it struck me straight to the heart, tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by its tragic beauty and excruciating truth. It's also the one time that Maggie's smoky-eyed seductive veil slips, and she lets herself feel something very real. In that moment, as fleeting as it is, there are no sides, no waiting plots, or poised vendettas. There are two Strong Creatives, two kindred supernatural beings with very human feelings. Victims of their own gifts, with universal wants, and desires. Powers greater than their wildest dreams, but at what cost? In this moment, Maggie cares about John, connects with him, because she feels these words burn emblazoned, even hotter than the cigarette he's about to press into her arm.

Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar....... and only one comes out alive. These two take, "Get a room," to a whole new level!!! "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you want me to........." John says smoothly, before pressing a lit cigarette into Maggie's arm, telling her to harness the pain, let it consume her, until it's all she knows, and then whispers his question like a sweet nothing in her ear, nuzzling her close. John, with all of his scheming predilections and parlor tricks has found a way to cheat the Strong Creative check when it comes due. In event of seizures, or memory loss, you can hurt yourself...... or hurt someone else. I had always secretly suspected this proviso, I even wrote it into my own NOS4A2 Series, that my character's compassion gets punished by unknowingly hurting someone else, every time she uses her gift, but seeing John's shocking demonstration, breathing in with explicit pleasure as he burns her, watching Maggie's big brown eyes spark, both excited, and relieved that she can hurt herself and still use her powers, was an absolute ordeal. I have a feeling Maggie just discovered a dangerous new addiction........

Speaking of ordeals........ John shatters a glass table, ready to kill the messenger, when he doesn't get the answer that he wants, the fates formally denying his request for immortality. And it is here, in the midst of his ruffled, heartbroken, rage, that the events deviated dramatically from my own predictions. I thought Charlie had promised him immortality in exchange for killing Vic McQueen, and that Maggie had unwittingly unmasked this betrayal, proving Charlie had lied, offering the Creative Holy Grail that he intended to keep for himself. Immortality, apparently a non-transferrable work benefit. With our slighted Hourglass primed for revenge, and his particular fascination for Maggie, I thought for sure she'd be able to turn him against Charlie, brandish the Hourglass against his new business partner, rallying him to Vic's cause, and more or less, have him join Team McQueen to take Manx down once and for all.

I was wrong...... So, so wrong. I don't think any of us saw what was coming....... "It's rare I get such a hands on opportunity," John rasps, once he finds his stolen knife in Maggie's bag, teasing seduction climaxing into a crime of passion, as the two of them scrapple and scrape for the hourglass. "Sweetheart, give up. You're not getting out of here alive." Maggie gets choked, hurled over the shattered glass table, but you can't keep a good girl down, and The Hourglass is no Charlie Manx. "I tried to warn you, John, my tiles are never wrong." Maggie thrusts a shard of glass up into the Hourglass Man's heart, and with an anguished, hopeless cry he watches her stomp his knife into the ground, coming down on it hard, leaving nothing but shattered glass, and scattered sand. WOW........ I am speechless. I have to admit, I did not expect Charlie's new player and point man to be vanquished this early in the game, as awestruck as I am by this new fearless facet of Maggie's unique brilliance. She was elegant, badass, and beautiful, and I'm so glad he's dead, but I don't know....... I felt like his death was his third and final disappointment. Sorry John, we'll always have Parnassus.

Oh my God, if Maggie was this episode's Oscar Winner for Best Actress, Linda Freaking McQueen WINS for Best Supporting Actress!!!! She's the other sassy heroine of "The Hourglass," mouthing off to FBI agents like nobody's business, and it is SENSATIONAL!!!! "What does FBI stand for, huh? Failed. Bad. Incompetent? We're Americans!!! My husband works for the postal service, I go to CHURCH!!! Do better!!!" You TELL 'EM Linda!!! She's a delight in every scene she's in, standing up to the suits, and telling them what's what!!! She's had it with these big, fancy, feds not protecting her daughter, and she ain't afraid to get vocal about it. Aaaaaah and the whole conversation with her and Chris was AMAZING!!! There is something so fascinating about two hard knock realists, two complete skeptics talking about the possibility of the Supernatural.

"There's a difference between special, Chris, and magic. Our daughter ain't magic."

"How would you know?"

"Because I wiped her snotty nose, for Christ's sake!!! What kind of mother misses something like that?"

"The kind that's too busy hiding bruises and paying bills to look up."

Linda's emphatic disbelief is so perfect, and I just love the way she says that, "Our daughter ain't magic!" I also love how Chris is starting to believe in Vic, and it's that burgeoning faith in his daughter's abilities that makes Linda start to wonder if maybe her daughter could be magic. Chris owning up to his past mistakes, and blaming himself, for his wife's oversight, was such a bittersweet moment too, wanting so badly to let her off the hook. He's changed, they both have, and I couldn't be more proud. Another beautifully human moment that I really loved was between her and Vic, and here we finally find out why the McQueen women can't be close to each other. "I never felt that you needed me." It's a rare, deeply insightful look into Linda's heart, a vulnerable truth, and I feel like I know them both even better through it. Linda needs to be needed, she needs to have somebody to take care of, somebody that relies on her, and with a drunk, philandering husband who sought comfort elsewhere, and a fiercely independent daughter, Linda had no one. She felt listless, without purpose, and thus drowned her sorrows with a tipped back bottle.

The scene with Vic and Lou cuddling in his hospital bed also strikes a chord in this veritable symphony of human emotion, and with every new episode, I ship Team McCarmody even harder!!! Lou with a stint in his heart, and Vic with a concussion, and injured spleen, have this impossibly sweet moment, in the midst of the aftermath and ever-present horror of the abduction of their son. I love how they anchor each other, try to calm each other down, and still manage to make each other laugh.

"Han Solo ain't half the mechanic as Lou Carmody."

"Did you- Did you just refer to yourself in the third person...... and rate yourself....... ABOVE Han Solo?"

Vic's laugh in that moment is so pure, and a much needed relief, as she holds onto the love, the teddy bear of a man, that Charlie couldn't take from her, and in that moment, she decides to focus on what she has left, even while fighting for what she has lost. I'm reminded of a quote from my other favourite show, HEROES. "We're human first, and heroes second."

Charlie may take a back seat this episode, but he is still a coaxing, debonair presence with a teasing linger, and not without another clever trick up his sleeve. "There is no need to hide your cellular telephone from me, My Boy," He coos as Wayne fumbles to sneak a call to his Mom. I was SHOCKED when Charlie urged Young Bats to do just that, call his mother. "What kind of MONSTER do you take me for?" He asks silkily, feigning indignance, and with bated breath, we wait as the phone rings, and rings, and rings...... No way in HELL is Vic not taking that call, and yet, Young Master Wayne hangs his wildly curly head, defeated, as the call goes unanswered. "She's a real heartbreaker, your mother...... isn't she? Never there for you, no matter how good you are. It's not personal, Wayne. In the end Vic McQueen cares only for herself and no one else," Charlie chortles, and he knows it's working....... bit by bit, he means to turn his new favourite charge, against his own mother, convince him of her neglect and indifference. My theory? Charlie can block calls using his creative power, which would explain how he's avoided capture, and the FBI's modern trappings for so long. You sneaky, sneaky boy!!!

OH HELLO CRAIG!!!! Yes, you read that right...... CRAIG, Wayne's father who burned to death in the Wraith, like a ghastly apparition appears to his son, with singed skin, and glazed over eyes. At first I thought this was Charlie manipulating Wayne, showing what his mother did to his father, and how he wasn't ever going to be safe with her, but to my own astonishment, Charlie could not see him!!! Craig encourages Wayne, tells him Charlie's lying, gives him hope, and insists she's coming for him. I thought that was a spectacular, wide-eyed SHOCK that came out of thin air, and I couldn't help but think about how Cassie appeared to her daughter in this same way........ Hmmm can children, if they are Strong Creatives themselves, see the parents they have lost at the hands of Charlie Manx? Curiouser and curiouser........

My breath caught, everything going numb, when that bloody tooth fell out in Wayne's tiny hand. I LOVE that little boy with all my heart and soul, and I'm sorry, Charlie, but I do NOT want him to become a vampire!!! Wayne starts to change in other ways too, playing with a butterfly, as his usual cheerful self, adorably naming him Sunny, before killing it, ripping it into shreds, his sweet little face devoid of any emotion. WHAT!? I had chills like crazy, and I felt heartsick. I don't know though, did anybody else think that butterfly looked strange, almost not quite real? The way the Wraith rolled down the window to let it in...... It makes me wonder if this didn't just happen in Wayne's mind.

I did notice though, how long it took for the Wraith to siphon off Wayne's youth to heal the nasty gash on Charlie's cheek. Even Charlie starts to worry, checking the mirror again and again, only to find it slightly healed, and it's not until the near end of the episode that he looks one more time, nails resting on the side of his head, sighing into his hand with relief, when he sees his once again flawless visage staring back. It's like Wayne is fighting the car, slowing down its effects, because no child has gone this long without turning!!! All exciting further proof that Wayne HAS to be a Strong Creative!!! I also love how Charlie continues to be the perfect, doting father figure, ever so careful and patient with Wayne, and I just melted, with a besotted sigh when he asked him if he had to use the water closet!" That was precious!!! Also, my new FAVOURITE thing ever, is Charlie click-clacking his long, gorgeous nails along the Wraith's windows as he walks past it!!! Dear GOD, Handsome, WHAT are you doing to me!?

THAT ending though........ I'm crying....... I SOBBED, I'm so not okay. What the freaking HELL.........!?!? Just as we're all having cozy Charlie and Wayne feelings, fawning over them both, that DAMNED BASTARD Bing Partridge comes out of NOWHERE surprising our dashing vampire, shoving the gas hose in his face, and he goes down HARD!!!! Once he's disabled the Wraith, he abducts Charlie, and leaves Wayne behind. It's blood-curdling to watch....... knowing what horrors Bing has already committed, and what dark intention he holds for his once upon a time hero, now that Charlie's left him to die. I'm freaking scared. I was hyperventilating, and full of murderous fury even hours after the episode had ended. The wait for next week is going to hit a lot different, after that cruel cliff-hanger, and I can only hope Charlie can dangle Christmasland in an effort to thwart Bing's fat, homicidal hand. Bing Partridge, you hateful Son of a BITCH, if you disturb so much as one strand of Charlie's beautiful raven hair, I'm gonna KILL you SO DEAD!!! Time's run out for the Hourglass, will another of Vic's foes meet the same fate? Bing Partridge must DIE!!! Somebody......... SAVE CHARLIE MANX!!!!!

[blacklister214]

Illusions (Chapter 4): Milestone

L.A., 1983

Caleb spun and dipped Delilah, executing the move with perfect precision. Dancing with a partner had, in life, been a bit trying for him, but he had to admit this wasn't as aggravating as he remembered. That was probably due to Delilah. She was nearly as much of a perfectionist as he was and didn't complain about going into overtime if it meant getting a routine right. Just as important, the dancer had no more romantic interest in him than he had in her.

If there was one thing he didn't miss about his old life, it was the constant hetrosexual façade he'd had to maintain. Constantly squiring empty-headed starlets around town had been exhausting. Unfortunately he'd had no choice. The fan magazines needed to report on his "womanizing" ways, or people would wonder why a man as handsome, rich, and charming as Caleb Covington wasn't settled down with a nice wife. A cad was acceptable by Hollywood standards. The truth about Caleb was not.

Attitudes towards those of Caleb's persuasion hadn't completely changed with the times, but within this small group of performers, he didn't feel the need to hide that aspect of himself.

"-I tell you this, and ain't just jive. Though I'm dead, I have never felt so alive." He flipped Delilah high in air and caught her with ease. Yet another benefit of ghosthood.

"I feel like a king with," He and Delilah poofed themselves into the chair they'd set up as the makeshift "throne" on the band platform. He used his scepter to cue to the band.

"When I swing with," This time they landed themselves on the room's chandelier. They rocked it back and forth while the musicians played the accompaniment.

"When I sing, sing, sing, sing, siiiiinnnnngggg" He held out his hand and together they jumped, vanishing in mid-air, only to appear on the main stage, Caleb on one knee before Delilah.

"With you!" The band executed the final notes and there were a few seconds of silence before the whooping started.

"That was the best we ever played!" Caleb stood, keeping his face impassive, but he silently agreed. He only hoped that didn't mean they would fall flat this evening. Ignoring the gushing, he moved over to the table where he kept his notes.

"We are knocking them dead tonight!"

"Or deader as the case may be!" Caleb frowned regretting, not for the first time, his audiences weren't a little more lively. Ghosts would enjoy their talents, but lifers would be awed.

"Silence all! Let's hear from our illustrious leader." Delilah's voice rang out clearly and everyone became mute. He could feel a dozen pairs of eyes drilling into his back. He sighed and turned to them.

"The show starts at 8. I expect everyone back in the green room by 6:30. Don't be late." The musicians seemed to deflate a bit. Good. The last thing Caleb wanted was for the band to feel complacent.

He knew better than anyone that the greatest performance often came when the performer felt they had something to prove. Everyone in this room now had the perfect motivation. They'd play their hearts out just to spite him.

Caleb could tell by the set of Delilah's jaw that she was not amused but she pasted on a smile and turned to the musicians.

"Quick, scurry before he decides to keep us all for more rehearsal." The band popped out one at a time until only his partner remained. Her hands went to her hips, the universal sign for an unhappy woman.

"Yes?" If she needed to scold him, they might as well get it over with before this evening's show.

"It wouldn't kill you to be nicer to them." Caleb cocked an eyebrow at her in a way so many of his fans had adored.

"Nothing would kill me at this point. That is the main perk of being dead." The expression on Delilah's face communicated he wasn't winning her over with his quip.

"Treat them well or they won't stick around. It's not like you're paying them and they need the job." Caleb smiled to himself, remembering all the tongue lashings he'd delivered during his life to castmates and crew members who hadn't been pulling their weight. If Delilah had known him then, she'd realize the kid gloves with which he handled his current band.

"They will stick around for the same reason I tolerate having them around. I am offering them an opportunity to perform again." That was all the carrot he needed to keep drawing them back. Caleb provided a venue, an audience, new music to play, and a star. What more could they possibly want from him?

Delilah stared at him a moment without speaking and then let her arms fall to her sides. She seemed less angry, but more...sad? Disappointed?

"If you keep pushing everyone away, you're going to end up spending eternity alone." Caleb fought the unpleasant roiling of his gut. He didn't care what Delilah thought. He didn't need her good opinion.

"I'm not alone." Warmth flooded him as he thought of Alex, pushing away all of the unpleasantness in the conversation. He smiled to himself, remembering he won't have to wait much longer before his next visit. He'd planned to drop by Alex's room at 5 pm, in a mere three hours.

"How is Alex?" Caleb's mind jerked back into the moment and he saw Delilah's expression had shifted again. She looked almost amused about something, but for the life of him, no pun intended, he couldn't imagine what. How had she guessed at the direction of his thoughts? 

Also, why was she asking him about Alex? She had only met him the one time, and things had been a bit one-sided. Still, Alex was an extremely charming child. Caleb had liked him from their first meeting and he liked almost no one. Naturally she'd be interested in the boy's well-being.

"Fantastic. He's the best student in both of his dance classes. The teacher put him downstage center. A little brat named Kimberly was furious, but cream will rise to the top."

Caleb had been unable to resist peeking in the classes from time to time. He'd wanted to assure himself that Alex was happy and the teacher wasn't completely incompetent. Caleb felt she wasted too much time on the hopeless students, but such was the nature of her profession. His opinion of the woman had greatly risen when she had given Alex his place of honor.

"Is it possible you're privately tutoring him as well?" Caleb frowned, wondering at the purpose of her question. Was she implying Alex didn't deserve to be the star in his class? That Caleb was unfairly giving the boy an advantage?

"I may have given him a few pointers. He has natural ability and the drive to better himself, so why wouldn't I assist him?" It wasn't as though Alex's parents would have been of any help. 

His mother would have to tear herself away from her many community-minded commitments. Heaven knew protests at women's clinics didn't organize themselves. For a woman supposed so committed to children and family she didn’t seem to spend much time with her own.

Alex's father had stopped his bullying ways since Caleb's intervention, but the experience had had an unanticipated side effect. These days Greg seemed a bit leery of Alex. Caleb suspected his threat had made Greg Mercer wonder if his four year old was in communication with a demon.

The man had actually nailed multiple crosses up all over the house, including in Alex's room. The Mercer family was also now attending church every Sunday. Grace was now always said before dinner. Still, it was an improvement over the unceasing criticism and Alex had been allowed his dance lessons. Overall it was a positive outcome.

"Caleb Covington, you are not the bastard everyone thinks you are." Caleb blinked at Delilah's pronouncement. Was she implying he was soft because he happened to spend a little of his time with a delightful child? He couldn't let that stand.

"Take that back." He pointed a finger in her direction in warning. Delilah's smile only grew wider.

"Fine. You're not the COMPLETE bastard everyone thinks you are. See you tonight." She vanished before he could refute her again. He resented the implication that he was in any way weak. He had worked hard to cultivate an air of implacable authority. To be a man both respected and feared throughout Hollywood. Was Alex's influence changing him somehow? Fundamentally altering who he was? 

Caleb closed his eyes, shutting out the world, and thinking only of Alex. Once again the feeling of peace swept over him. He let himself completely surrender to that feeling.

"-IS real!" Caleb's eyes popped open, startled. He swung his head around the empty ballroom. He had been certain that he had heard Alex's voice as clearly as if the boy were right in front of him. Was this another ability manifesting?

He closed his eyes and tried again, finding the place within himself that belonged to Alex.

"Is so!" There! Caleb frowned at the tone Alex had used. Alex sounded angry. Alex was almost never angry.

"Is not!" Interesting, he could hear other voices as well. This one seemed to belong to a young girl.

"Is so!" Not most witty of replies, but Caleb was proud of Alex's refusal to be cowed. It was often difficult for Alex to assert himself. Caleb had been working to help him overcome that fear and apparently those lessons were already paying dividends.

"Is not!" The little girl was practically screeching at this point. Caleb couldn't possibly imagine what could be getting both children so agitated.

"I see Caleb too! I see him right there. You can't because you're a meany-face!" Yet another voice. A boy this time. And what had he said? 'I see Caleb too!'? Caleb was more than a little surprised that he himself had been the cause of the argument. He generally encouraged Alex not to speak of him at all.

"Mommy! Luke called me a-" The girl's voice drifted off until Caleb could no longer hear her. Presumably she'd gotten too far from Alex.

"Luke? Are you sure you see Caleb? Because I don't see him." Alex's voice had gotten softer and Caleb could hear the worry in his voice. Alex had asked Caleb once if he'd still be able to see Alex when he got older. Caleb had assured Alex he would, but the truth was Caleb had no idea. Hearing Alex's voice now made him wonder if the boy had truly believed his comforting claim.

"I pretended." This 'Luke' didn't seem at all ashamed of his lie. An interesting contrast to Alex, who had once confessed to eating a stolen cookie less than a minute after taking his first and only bite. Alex hadn't even been the one to steal the cookie. Caleb had done it on his behalf. An ill-advised gesture as it turned out since Alex couldn't explain how he'd gotten the cookie from the top shelf of the pantry. The poor boy had ended up grounded for the week.

"Why?" Caleb was interested in hearing this answer as well.

"Because Sarah's a meany-face." Even Caleb had to admit that was rather sweet. This 'Luke' sounded as young as Alex, but already he had chosen to be Alex’s champion. Caleb decided he'd like to clap eyes on the child and thank him for his chivalry. It was sooner than he'd intended, but plans changed all the time.

Caleb found himself standing next to a large sandbox. The park. That would explain the voices of the other children.

"Caleb!" Alex yelled excitedly as he almost always did when Caleb appeared. How far they've both come from the day of Alex's 4th birthday when Alex had screamed in terror at the sight of him.

"He's here?!" The boy, "Luke" sounded nearly as excited as Alex did.

"Right there!" Alex pointed and Caleb watched and waited. Judging from the way Luke swiveled his head and squinted, Caleb could tell he was as invisible to the boy as he was to everyone else. After a minute the boy shrugged and waved. Caleb took a step to the left, just to be certain, but Luke's eyes remained on the space where Caleb had been.

"Hi Caleb! I'm Luke." Caleb loosed a small laugh. Though Luke couldn't see him, he still believed Alex that Caleb was there.

"Alex, please tell Luke that I'm very pleased to meet him and that I said thank you for being such a good friend to you." Before Alex could relay the message he was interrupted by the arrival of two women and the wretched child from earlier. The first was clutching the little’s girl’s hand, looking deeply affronted. The second lady, looking no lest incensed stopped before Alex’s defender.  

"Lucas Patterson! Did you call Sarah a 'Meany-face'?" Given the similarity of features, Caleb could only assume this was Luke's mother. Surely she wasn't taken in by the little girl's crocodile tears?

"Yes." Luke sounded no more contrite than he'd had early. The furrowing of the woman's eyebrows told Caleb the boy's mother hadn't missed the lack of repentance either.

"Then you need to apologize to her right this minute!" Luke's face turned positively mulish, making him resemble his mother even more. His arms folded across his chest.

"No! She IS a meany-face. And a tattle tale." Mother and son gazed into each other eyes, forcefully reminding Caleb of an Old West showdown. All that was missing was a tumbleweed rolling through the park. Finally Luke’s mother turned to the other woman. 

"I apologize for my son's rudeness. We are going home." The woman held out her hand to her child. Luke uncrossed his arms, looking as aghast as if she'd raised her hand to spank him.

"But Moooommmm-" Luke was brought up short by a look that even Caleb found somewhat intimidating.

"Say goodbye to Alex." Luke's posture flopped, signally that his mother had won the day.

"Bye Alex." He paused, then deliberately turned to where Caleb had first appeared. "Bye Caleb." Luke quickly stuck out his tongue at the little girl before at last taking his mother's hand. Caleb smiled, admiring the boy's moxie.

"I like him." Caleb turned at Alex's comment and found him staring after Luke. He realized that he could have just witnessed a major milestone for Alex. Alex was generally liked among other children, but he didn't have any one child in particular he was close with.

"Me too." Though he'd only seen the boy for a few minutes, Caleb was already convinced Luke was just the kind of loyal companion Alex deserved. Someone who would watch over him when Caleb couldn't. Someone who would listen to him.

"Caleb?" Caleb looked down and saw Alex was once more biting his lip. He hadn't seen that habit in months and it never boded well.

"Yes Alex?" The boy looked afraid. What question could be so terrifying that he was frightened to even ask it?

"Are you real? Sarah said you're not. She says I made you up." When the words finally came, Caleb realized he should have anticipated them. Of course his argument with the bratty child was upsetting him. Caleb had to consider his answer carefully.

He didn't want to tell Alex he was a ghost. Maybe one day the boy would figure it out on his own, but hopefully by then Alex would be so accustomed to Caleb it wouldn't have much of an impact.

"I am real. I'm just real in a different way than you are. But that's not always a bad thing." Caleb looked around for something to cheer Alex up. His eyes alighted on a portable radio. At present it's owner seemed to be asleep on a blanket. Not very intelligent of them really. They were practically asking for their device to be stolen. Really what he was about to do was a benevolent gesture.

"If I were like you I could do this?" He pointed at the radio and the power moved to the "On" position.

"-And it's magic if the music is groovy," The napper jerked awake and stared at the radio in confusion.

"It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie." Caleb recognized the song. It was one of Alex's favorites. They'd spend an entire afternoon with Alex's parents radio. They'd flipped through stations so Caleb had at least some awareness of what had happened to music in the fifty years he'd been in the dark room. Quite a bit apparently, and in Caleb's view, very little of it good.

"Do You Believe in Magic" had come on and Caleb had decided to add a little spice to the song by demonstrating his developing telekinetic powers to Alex. Alex had been as entranced as Caleb had hoped. As a consequence Alex fairly regularly wheedled Caleb into performing that song over, and over, and over again. It was no surprise when Alex spun to face him, all sad thoughts forgotten.

"Caleb, will you sing?!" Caleb did not know whether to chuckle or groan.

"I don't know Alex. You know it's not really my type of music." This too was part of the routine. Caleb, hemming and hawwing...

"Pleeaassse? You sing it so nice!" Alex begging and flattering...

"Alright, but only if you're my band." And then Caleb finally giving in. "Are we agreed?" Alex nodded eagerly. He held out his sand bucket with one hand and his shovel with the other in a ready position.

Caleb started snapping his fingers in time with the song. Alex obediently started tapping the rhythm in his bucket. When Caleb was sure Alex had the beat he transported himself to the top of the play structure's tower. Caleb sang down as Alex beamed up at him from the ground.

"I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul, But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout a rock 'n' roll."

Caleb swayed with the music, noticing something odd as he did. He would swear that people were looking at him.

"If you believe in magic don't bother to choose, if it's jug band music or rhythm and blues. Just go and listen it'll start with a smile, that won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try."

They were still looking. A hope bloomed in Caleb's chest. He shouldn't indulge in it. He knew it was impossible and yet….

Caleb spotted a table about twenty feet away with some parents sitting at it. He instantaneously transported himself on top of it. Once Caleb appeared, there was no doubt in his mind that their eyes were locked on him. He soaked up their amazement like they were water and he a sponge. His eyes returned to Alex who faithfully kept tapping on his bucket from a few yards away.

"Your feet start tapping, and you can't seem to find, how you got there, so just blow your mind. If you believe in magic come along with me-"

He jerked his head at Alex to follow him. Disappearing once more, he re-materialized on an empty seesaw. He danced from the low end to the high end as he sang, aware a crowd was slowly converging on him.

It was incredible! The closest he'd ever gotten to the feeling was when he'd consumed five cups of coffee in the course of one hour. His entire being was buzzing.

"We'll dance until morning till there's just you and me. And maybe if the music is right, I'll meet you tomorrow sorta late at night, and we'll go dancing baby, then you'll see how the magic's in the music, and the music's in me." Caleb hopped off the seesaw and with a wave of his hand started it rocking up and down to the music.

"Yeah, do you believe in magic?" He pointed at an empty swing and with a twirled of his finger wound the chains and then released them to spin out. His audience clapped in admiration.

They were crowding him too tightly. He needed space if he didn't want to be revealed as noncorporeal. Caleb vanished and reappeared back in his original perch.

"Yeah, believe in the magic of the young girl's soul,"

The crowd sighted him and followed him like rats behind the Piper Pied of Hamelin.

"Believe in the magic of a rock 'n' roll, believe-"

Suddenly a collective gasp went up and people began buzzing, despite the fact Caleb was still singing.

"-in the magic that can set you free. Ahh, talking 'bout the magic."

"Where did he go? I hear him, but I don't see him!" Caleb waved his hands but no one took notice.

"Do you believe in magic?" He'd gone invisible again. Why? And where was Alex? He scanned the crowd. He'd gotten so caught up in the attention he'd completely lost sight of him. Suddenly he sighted the back of the boy's head. His mother had him at the edge of the grass, dragging him away from Caleb towards their car.

"Did you see that?! That was incredible!"

What possibly could be upsetting the woman? She couldn't have a problem with magicians. She'd hired one for her son's party last year. He'd have to speak with Alex about it later.

"Do you believe, believer?" It seemed at least one mystery was solved. The temporary visibility was connected to Alex. When he got pulled away by his mother, Caleb became invisible again. Interestingly though, he could be heard on his own. It hadn't worked that way with speaking, but singing apparently was another story.

"How did he do that? Mirrors and a speaker?"

"Do you believe in magic?" He'd never been heard rehearsing in the hotel, but that was inside an abandoned building. If Caleb moved his performance outdoors, then he could sing for living audiences again.

"In a park? Unlikely? Do you think we were all hypnotized?"

"Do you believe in magic?" Would it work for his band as well? He wasn't sure how he felt about singing with no accompaniment whatsoever.

"Why do you think he was here? Do you think he's drumming up business for kid's parties?" Caleb had been half-listening to the comments of his audience, but that last sentence got his full attention. He was about to show the man a taste of his "children's party" magic when his companion gave a disbelieving snort.

"A man that talented is not playing children's parties. Mark my words, in a few days we'll hear about him playing a theatre downtown. This was probably a publicity stunt." Caleb smirked to himself. That was more like it. Theatres. Sold out crowds. The adoration of millions. That his reality in life and that was his destiny in death. He'd make sure of it.

[bgb16999]

I recently completed a reread of Starhammer, a superhero webcomic about a teenager who finds Orion's Mallet, an alien weapon which gives them powers.  The main character is asexual, aromantic, and nonbinary.  Moreover, they already knew they were AroAce as a teenager, but they don't realize they are nonbinary until later in life.  Needless to say, the similarities the main character has with me draw me in to the story pretty quickly.  

What follows are some ramblings I have about the events of Book 1.  This post contains SPOILERS.  If you haven't read Starhammer yet, go read it and then come back to this post.  Only read on if you have either already read the comic or don't care about spoilers.

======SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT=========

One thing that really struck me, even more than the first time around, is that the people and/or process behind the whole "disciplinary hearing" are both incompetent and corrupt, and that the entire hearing is their desperate attempt to find a scapegoat.  

During the first five chapters, they consistently scold Evey for the horrible act of "getting involved" with superheroics, on the basis that an inexperienced, unlicensed minor shouldn't get involved.  But then in Chapter 6, page 42, the committee abruptly switches to scolding them for the exact opposite: claiming that if only Evey had gotten involved sooner, they would have been able to stop Orson's plan before it even started.  The committee is using two directly contradictory arguments to try to convince us of Evey's "guilt," something a real lawyer would only do if they were wildly incompetent.  Moreover, the second argument of guilt-through-inaction ignores the fact that all of the actual adults who actually had jobs to catch supervillians also failed to do anything about Orson until it was too late.  That potentially includes the members of the disciplinary committee themselves: if Evey is guilty through inaction as the committee claims, then so are the members of the committee.  Which leaves me with the impression that the entire hearing is just an effort by the people in charge to use a scapegoat to distract from their own failings.

The subsequent conclusion that Evey is somehow responsible for Superion's death is equally ridiculous.  It reminds me a lot of what I call the "Charles Guiteau excuse."  After Guiteau shot President Garfield in 1881, Garfield lived another few months before dying of an infection related to the gunshot wound.  During his trial, Guiteau argued that he was guilty of shooting the president, but not killing him.  The real killers, Guiteau claimed, were the doctors who treated Garfield, because if they were better at their jobs then he wouldn't have died.  The difference with Starhammer is that in Guiteau's case, the only person who made this excuse was the desperate defendant.  In Starhammer, it was the supposed authority figures who try to push the blame for Superion's death, not onto Orson (who actually killed him), nor onto the incompetent adult authorities (including themselves), but onto the moderately-competent teenager who actually stopped Orson but didn't quite do it fast enough to save Superion.  

The one point where the council actually mentions how Evey made things worse than if they hadn't been their at all was their failure to install security updates on their goggles, which allows Evan to hack into the system.  But, if your top-secret database has such weak security that a 16-year-old's accessory can get you full access, then the adults who were supposed to be in charge seem far more culpable for negligence.  

In the end, the council says they let Evey off with a "reduced punishment" thanks to their popularity with the general public.  How many other people without the benefits of fame were given far harsher sentences for much less by this corrupt council?

None of this discussion is necessarily a criticism of the comic.  The presence of a (partially?) corrupt justice system adds a bit of realism to an otherwise very fantastical world of superheroes.  And, it shows that the Starhammer world has problems that aren't caused by people like Orson: problems that can't be solved by hitting them with a mallet.

[funamblrist]

So uh... what did Bezmezov say that was untrue? From where I'm sitting, everything he predicted is happening right now.

bezmenov was a novosti journalist in india, not a KGB agent; at most he could have been an informer for them, but certainly in no position to have been privy to a fraction of the information he claimed to know.

this alone shatters the illusion: why would some third-rate literal who in india have information on subversion in a country he wasn’t even operating in? bezmenov had the reputation of a “free spirited” hippy interested in indian culture; aspirations conflicting with soviet formalities, and generally incompetent at his menial desk job. was the KGB just handing out top-secret intelligence like candy to anybody, regardless of status and loyalty? if so, where are all the corroborators? the soviet archives likewise leave bezmenov standing alone.

it was typical for soviet defectors to conjure up fantastic stories (often with the help of their CIA handlers), since more often than not it guaranteed them speaking tours across the states. the giant grift that is celebrity defectors continues to this day, particularly in korea: the claims of DPRK defectors get increasingly more absurd with each year—as if they’re constantly trying to one-up each other—because the jucier the story, the bigger the paycheck from the south korean government and sponsoring think-tank/s. they can get away with saying ridiculous shit like “you can’t wear red lipstick in north korea, because red represents capitalism” since these lies are presented among broader sob stories of harrowing escape and ancestral punishment, and who would dare criticise these poor, poor people? their audiences are both too busy embracing the spectactle and lack the know-how to think “hang on on a second, why would the DPRK even hide the existence of africa and australia? how does that benefit them? what ideological reason do they have for that, especially considering their past involvement with the ANC?”

back to bezmenov, though. a friend of mine explains the problems with his story pretty well:

It's been been years since I watched the interview, but from what I recall he claimed the KGB was focused on trying to "demoralize" and "subvert" America from within, e.g. he claimed (to quote from a transcript of the Griffin interview) that "Marxism-Leninism ideology is being pumped into the soft heads of at least 3 generation of American students without being challenged. . . most of the people who graduated in the 60's, dropouts or half-baked intellectuals, are now occupying the positions of power in the government, civil service, business, mass media, and educational systems. You are stuck with them. You can't get through to them. They are contaminated. . . . The demoralization process in the United States is basically completed already for the last 25 years. Actually, it's over fulfilled because demoralization now reaches such areas where not even Comrade Andropov and all his experts would even dream of such tremendous success. . . . the influence of Marxist-Leninist ideas in the United States is absolutely fantastic." In reality, Bezmenov is talking nonsense. If there was ever a decade where students were critical of what was taught to them, it was the 1960s. What did spread on campuses was not Marxism-Leninism but New Left ideology which the Soviets criticized as ultra-left, and which was distributed mainly from student to student. There is no evidence whatsoever that the USSR had a program of "pumping" Marxism-Leninism into the minds of American students via (conveniently unnamed) American teachers and professors. What the Soviets did do was regularly send millions of dollars to the Communist Party USA, an avowedly pro-Soviet, Marxist-Leninist entity which was viewed with distrust by the New Left and whose members were scarcely allowed to teach anywhere in the 60s (e.g. Angela Davis was appointed acting assistant professor at UCLA and shortly thereafter fired for being a Communist.) There's no evidence of the Soviets sending any such money to New Left entities, many of which admired Maoism and virtually all of which regarded the USSR with ridicule or scorn. Bezmenov goes on to state that Americans need to learn "the real danger of socialist, communist, welfare state, Big Brother government." Again, this is a blatant case of Bezmenov telling his reactionary audience what they want to hear, linking socialism and communism to the welfare state. The claim that "the influence of Marxist-Leninist ideas in the United States is absolutely fantastic" was ludicrous then and still absurd now.

so what are we left with, when we strip away all birchite pandering about soviet subversion? well, bezmenov said people would be demoralised and... people are demoralised.

wow. what a prediction.

nothing he said was profound—the practice of subversion and the like is as old as time—and it’s clear to anyone with half a brain that the state we are in is the result of neoliberalism, not the meddling of a country which ceased to exist 30 years ago. but what can you do? it’s always easier, particularly for those on the right, to address symptons and blame them on an Other, than it is to address the stuctural, socio-economic causes which gave rise to said symptoms. how does that old axiom go? easy solutions v.s. difficult truths, or something to that effect?

actually, come to think of it... another defector by the name of anatoly golitsyn claimed that the collapse of the USSR was a ruse to deceive the west, so... 

oh my god, could it be?

[glentheapprentice-arcanawriter]

Been Busy, Here’s The Masterpost

So, I’ve been reblogging some ask ideas, and I will leave them up so the original posters and rebloggers are credited, but here is the masterpost so you can just look through them. I might do them in order if I have an idea for them, and I am open for asks. Just put them in, and what characters you want them to be centered on. 

For future reference, the characters of the Slime Rancher AU have been affected by an age-old concept that addresses the fact that no human can pass another without impacting the other’s life in some way. The characters in the AU are different in personality (only somewhat in some situations) than the ones in canon. 

And with that, let’s make the masterpost. 

Masterpost under the bar. 

Emoji Prompts

🎂 : A birthday headcanon.

💩 : An embarrassing headcanon

💀 : An injury headcanon

👄 : A kiss headcanon

💔 : A breakup headcanon

🌟 : A secret wish headcanon

💍 : A marriage headcanon

👶 : A family headcanon

💧 : A sad headcanon

🛁 : A bathing headcanon

🛏 : A sleeping headcanon

💥 : A fighting headcanon

😳 : A confessing headcanon

👔 : A clothing headcanon

❤ : A romantic headcanon

☁️ : A soft headcanon

🌑 : A dark headcanon

😜 : A random headcanon

🎃 : A halloween headcanon

😤 : A jealousy headcanon

⌛ : A final headcanon

🌡: A sick headcanon

🍺 : A drunk headcanon

🧨 : An unexpected headcanon

Beautiful Words Prompts

Waldeinsamkeit (German) - the feeling of being alone in the woods, solitude, and a connectedness to nature

Iktsuarpok (Inuit) - refers to the feeling of anticipation when you’re expecting someone that leads you to constantly check to see if they’re coming

Komorebi (Japanese) - sunlight filtering through the leaves of trees.

Kilig (Tagalog) - the thrilling feeling of butterflies in your stomach when something romantic happens.

Hiraeth (Welsh) - homesickness mixed with grief and sadness over the lost or departed, or a type of longing for the homeland or the romanticized past.

Hyggelig (Danish) - warm, friendly, cozy, delightfully intimate moment or thing.

Mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan, Tierra del Fuego) - the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both want to initiate something, but are reluctant to do so.

Utepils (Norwegian) - to sit outside enjoying a beer on a sunny day.

Tidsoptimist (Swedish) - a person who is always late because they think they have more time than they do; a time optimist.

Bhava (Sanskrit) - when you’re in a mental state of bliss or peace, a oneness that flits into you, especially when you’re listening to music.

Samar (Arabic) - staying up late and having conversations with friends or family.

Cafuné (Portuguese) - the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through a loved one’s hair.

Retrouvailles (French) - a reunion (e.g., with loved ones after a long time apart).

Naz (Urdu) - assurance/pride in knowing that the other’s love is unconditional and unshakable.

Fargin (Yiddish) - ungrudging and overt (expressed) pride and happiness at other’s successes.

Apnapan (Hindi) - having a quality where you accept people, think of them as your own, take care of the ones you love, not for anything in return.

Meriggiare (Italian) - to rest at midday in a shady spot.

One Word Ideas

A aeipathy (n.) - an enduring and consuming passion aleatory (n.) - relying on chance or an uncontrolled element in the details of life or in the creation of art alharaca (spanish, n.) - an extraordinary or violent emotional reaction to a small issue anacampserote (n.) - something that can bring back a lost love antiscians (n.) - people who live on opposite sides the world, “whose shadows at noon are cast in opposite directions” áoyè // 熬夜 (chinese, n.) - to pull an all-nighter   appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond aranyhíd (hungarian, n) - “the golden bridge”; the reflection of the sun as it shines on water aspectabund (adj.) - letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one’s face and eyes asterismos (n.) - “marking with stars”; a word that gives weight or draws attention to the words that follow aswium // 아쉬움 (korean, n.) - the mingled feeling of disappointment, frustration, and regret that results from an unsatisfactory situation atermoiements (french, n.) - distractions or hesitations leading to procrastination avos’ // авось (russian, n.) - blind trust in sheer luck

B balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment basorexia (n.) - the overwhelming desire to kiss bilita mpash (bantu, n.) - the opposite of a nightmare; not merely a good dream, but a blissful state where all is forgiven and forgotten brontide (n.) - the low rumble of distant thunder brumous (adj.) - of grey skies and winter days; filled with heavy clouds or fog b’shirt // באשַערט (yiddish, n.) - “destiny”; referring to the seeking of a person who will complement you and whom you will complement perfectly

C cafuné (portuguese, n.) - the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair caim (scottish, n.) - an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved, even in the darkest times casuistry (n.) - deceptive or excessively subtle reasoning chéngquán // 成全 (chinese, v.) - “to become whole”; to selflessly help someone achieve their aim chimerical (adj.) - created by unchecked imagination; fantastically visionary or highly improbable commuovere (italian, v.) - to stir, to touch, to move to tears consenescere (latin, v.) - to grow old and grey together; to stay too long in an occupation; to decay, to lose respect, to fade convivencia (spanish, n.) - living together, in the sense of living or working closely with other people with whom you share feelings, desires, or a common purpose

D defenestrate (n.) - to throw someone or something out of a window dépaysement (n.) - the feeling that comes from not being in one’s home country   dérive (french, n.) - a spontaneous journey where the traveler leaves their life behind for a time to let the spirit of the landscape and architecture attract and move them desenrascanço (portuguese, n.) - the improvisation of haphazard but completely sound solutions or plans at the last minute   dormiveglia (italian, n.) - the space that stretches between sleeping and waking dustsceawung (n.) - reflection on people, and on the knowledge that all things will turn to dust

E eigengrau (german, n.) - “intrinsic grey”; the color seen by the eye in perfect darkness erlebnisse (german, n.) - the experiences, positive or negative, that we feel most deeply, and through which we truly live estivate (v.) - to be inactive or asleep through the summer’s heat and then come awake and alive in the winter eudaimonia (n.) - a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous

F fanaa // فناء (urdu, n.) - destruction of the self; “destroyed in love” fernweh (german, n.) - feeling homesick for a place you have never been to finifugal (adj.) - hating endings; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moments of a story, relationship, or some other journey firgun // פירגון (hebrew, n.) - the act of sharing in or even contributing to someone else’s pleasure or fortune, with a purely generous heart and without jealousy fisselig (german, n.) - being flustered to the point of incompetence; a temporary state of inexactitude and sloppiness that is elicited by another person’s nagging fuubutsushi // 風物詩 (japanese, n.) - the feelings, scents, or images that evoke memories or anticipation of a particular season

G gezellig (dutch, adj.) - cozy, nice, inviting, pleasant, comfortable; connoting time spent with loved ones or togetherness after a long separation gibel // гибель (russian, n.) - not death, not suicide, but simply ceasing to exist; deteriorating in a way that is painful for others gibigianna (italian, n.) - the play of light reflected from water or a mirror; a sunlit area gigil (tagalog, v.) - to grit the teeth in order to resist the urge to pinch or squeeze something extremely cute gökotta (swedish, n.) - dawn picnic to hear the first birdsong; the act of rising in the early morning to watch the birds or to go outside to appreciate nature guanxi // 關係 (chinese, n.) - a network of social connections based on mutual trust and the balancing of debts by returning favors so that the relationship’s benefits are shared by all

H hanyauku (kwangali, n.) - the act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand hifistelyä (finnish, n.) - something sophisticated, luxurious, and expensive, which is however a very minor improvement and is not needed hiraeth (welsh, n.) - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past honne // 本音 (japanese, n.) - what a person truly believes; the behavior and opinions which are often kept hidden and only displayed with one’s closest confidants hüzün (turkish, n.) - a melancholy resulting from inadequacy or failure and weighing so heavily that it becomes communal, resigned, and even curiously poetic

I ichariba chode // 行逢りば兄弟 (japanese, phr.) - “though we meet but once, even by chance, we are friends for life”   iktsuarpok (inuit, n.) - the frustration of waiting for someone to turn up ilunga (tshiluba, n.) - a person who is ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, but never a third time incalescent (adj.) - growing hotter or more ardent; set ablaze induratize (v.) - to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love

J jaaneman // जानेमन  // جان ِ من (persian, n.) - “soul of me”; gender-neutral word for sweetheart or darling jiāoqiǎnyánshēn // 交浅言深 (chinese, v.) - to have a deep and intimate conversation with a stranger jīlè // 雞肋 (chinese, n.) - things that you have no use for, yet still don’t want to throw away

K kairos καιρός (greek, n.) - the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement kalopsia (n.) - the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are kalsarikännit (finnish, v.) - to get drunk alone at home in your underwear karōshi // 過労死 (japanese, n.) - death from being overworked katzenjammer (german, n.) - a bad hangover or a general state of depression or bewilderment kawaakari // 川明かり (japanese, n.) - the gleam of last light on a river’s surface at dusk; the glow of a river in the darkness       kilig (tagalog, n.) - the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, usually when something romantic takes place kintsukuroi // 金繕い (japanese, n.) - “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken koyaanisqatsi (hopi, n.) - nature out of balance; a way of life so unbalanced that you need a new way kruschteln (german, v.) - to look for an item in a disorganized pile of stuff

L la douleur exquise (french, n.) - the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable l’appel du vide (french, n.) - “the call of the void”; the instinctive urge to jump from high places latibule (n.) - a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort lethe (n.) - oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget lítost (czech, n.) - regret and remorse and repentance; a state of agony and torment; sorrow said to be created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery livsnjutare (swedish, n.) - one who loves life deeply and lives it to the extreme

M mamihlapinatapei (yagán, n.) - the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so matutine (adj.) - just before the dawn mbuki-mvuki (bantu, v.) - to shed one’s clothing spontaneously and dance naked in joy meliorism (n.) - the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world mellandagarna (swedish, n.) - “the middle days”; the days between christmas and the new year meraki // μεράκι (greek, n.) - the soul, creativity, or love put into something; the essence of yourself that is put into your work metanoia (n.) - the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life mono no aware // 物の哀れ (japanese, n.) - the gentle wistfulness at the transience of things, and the awareness of the sadness of existence mudita // मुदित (sanskrit, n.) - sympathetic, vicarious joy; happiness rather than resentment at someone else’s well-being or good fortune mutterseelenallein (german, adj.) - utterly alone, as of refugees torn from their home country

N nakhes (yiddish, n.) - the satisfaction gained from life’s gifts; proud pleasure, especially in one’s children or grandchildren and their successes, however small ñáñaras (spanish, n.) - the free-falling sensation in the body caused by an unpleasant situation, fear, anxiety, insecurity, or other intense emotions   natsukashii // 懐かしい (japanese, adj.) - of some small thing that brings you suddenly and joyously back to fond memories, not with a wistful longing for what’s past, but with an appreciation of the good times nazlanmak (turkish, v.) - pretending reluctance or indifference when you are actually willing or eager; saying no and meaning yes nefelibata (spanish, n.) - “cloud-walker”; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art nemesism (greek, n.) - frustration, anger, or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one’s way of living nemophilist (n.) - a haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering noceur (french, n.) - one who sleeps late or not at all; one who stays out late to revel or party noctuary (n.) - the record of a single night’s events, thoughts, or dreams novaturient (adj.) - desiring or seeking powerful change in one’s life, behavior, or situation numinous (adj.) - describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted; the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired

O offing (n.) - the deep, distant stretch of the ocean that is still visible from the land orenda (iroquoian, n.) - a mystical force present in all people that empowers them to affect the world, or to effect change in their own lives ostranenie // остранение (russian, n.) - encouraging people to see common things as strange, wild, or unfamiliar; defamiliarizing what is known in order to know it differently or more deeply oubliette (n.) - a dungeon with a door only in the ceiling; a place you put people to forget about them

P palinoia (n.) - the obsessive repetition of an act until it is perfect or mastered pareidolia (n.) - the instinct to seek familiar forms in disordered images like clouds or constellations; the perception of random stimuli as significant peripeteia // περιπέτεια (greek, n.) - a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances; the point of no return pretoogjes (dutch, n.) - the eyes of a chuckling person who is up to benign mischief

Q quaquaversal (adj.) - moving or happening in every direction instantaneously querencia (spanish, n.) - a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

R ranço (portuguese, n.) - the inexplicable feeling of disliking someone without a proper reason   rantipole (v.) - to be wild and reckless rasasvada // रसास्वाद  (sanskrit, n.) - the taste of bliss in the absence of all thoughts recumbentibus (n.) - the knockout or ending blow, physical or verbal; the final, winning argument redamancy (n.) - the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full resfeber (swedish, n.) - the restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together retrouvaille (french, n.) - the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery

S sankofa (akan, n.) - “go back and fetch it”; to look back on the past in order to understand how we became what we are, and move forward to a better future     sarang // 사랑 (korean, n.) - “i wish to be with you until death”     saudade (portuguese, n.) - a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost sciamachy (n.) - a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow scintilla (n.) - a tiny, brilliant flash or spark; a small thing; a barely-visible trace sehnsucht (german, n.) - a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one’s home serein (french, n.) - the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of night setsunai // 切ない (japanese, n) - the feeling between bittersweet, painful, and wistful sillage (french, n.) - the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone smultronställe (swedish, n.) - a special place discovered, treasured, returned to for solace and relaxation; a personal idyll free from stress or sadness   soigné (french, adj.) - possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details sophrosyne // σωφροσύνη (greek, n.) - a healthy state of mind, characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one’s true self, and resulting in true happiness sturmfrei (german, adj.) - the freedom of not being watched by a parent or superior; being alone at a place and having the ability to do what you want susurrus (n.) - a low, soft sound, as of whispering or muttering or a quiet wind súton (croatian, n.) - the approach of death or the end of something

T tacenda (n.) - things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence tatemae // 建前 (japanese, n.) - what a person pretends to believe; the behavior and opinions one must display to satisfy society’s demandsv. temerate (v.) - to break a bond or binding promise toska // тоска (russian, n.) - ache of soul, longing with nothing to long for tsundoku // 積ん読 (japanese, n.) - buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves or floors or nightstands

U uitwaaien (dutch, v.) - to take a break to clear one’s head

V vagary (n.) - an unpredictable instance, a wandering journey; a whimsical, wild, or unusual idea, desire, or action velleitie (n.) - a wish or powerful desire for something that nonetheless is not or cannot be followed by actions meant to pursue it venters (scots, n.) - what the wind or tide drives in from the ocean upon a wave vernorexia (n.) - a romantic mood inspired by spring videnda (n.) - the things that should be seen or visited, especially if because they mark the character of a person or place volta // βόλτα (greek, n.) - a leisurely stroll along the main street or the seashore as the sun is setting, to meet and talk with friends and neighbors vorfreude (german, n.) - the joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures

W wabi-sabi // 侘寂 (japanese, n) - accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay wēijī // 危機  (chinese, n.) - crisis or critical moment; from risk 危 and opportunity 機, the idea that there can be a positive result in a wisely handled risk

X xibipíío (pirahã, adj.) - of experiential liminality; of a being in the boundaries of experience and the act of entering or leaving perception xuānxiè // 宣泄 (chinese, v.) - “to let accumulated water flow”; to emotionally unburden oneself

Y ya’aburnee // يقبرني (arabic, phr.) - “you bury me”; wishing for a loved one to outlive you because of how unbearable life would be without them yakamoz (turkish, n.) - the reflection of the moon as it shines upon the water

Z zugzwang (german, n.) - a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or one that will result in damage or loss

Sensory Prompts

cold, smooth slate

smell of smoke in icy air

a shimmer of water droplets in the sun

mint leaves

cold mud

the squeak of an old wooden staircase

paper tearing

light on the bottom of a clear pool

radio static

wind chimes

light reflected on puddles

the green iridescence of a beetle’s wing

slipping into warm water

a glow stick being snapped

night wind carrying the scent of freshly baked bread

wet, rotting leaves

dice against a table

the taste left in your mouth after a dentist’s appointment

a bite of an apple

people talking a room away

walking barefoot on sidewalk

dark, bitter chocolate

dryer lint

plucking a peach off the tree

calloused palm

pine needles

aloe being slathered on a sunburn

eggshells cracking

a dog’s cold nose

porch light in the distance

pouring something into a glass

soft cat feet

scraping at a scab

a deer darting away under the trees

jumping into a cold pool

a paper cut

a too-rich dessert

putting on clean underwear

an unpleasantly damp handshake

sweaty socks

the soft fur behind a dog’s ears

crunching ice at the bottom of the glass

licking your fingers while eating Cheetos

fighting against the urge to cry

floating on your back in water

soreness after exercise

the smell of an elderly relative’s house

bowling alley carpet

fresh paint

fireworks close enough to feel in your chest

the radio playing in the background at a restaurant

watching aquarium fish

a toilet flushing in a public restroom

your breath coming out in clouds in the cold

putting accidentally way too much salt on your food

poking at a bruise

rain on a metal roof

scent of a damp basement

the weird green afterimage after coming in from the snow

getting scratched by briars

a popsicle stick against your tongue

opening a window

walking on gravel

cold pizza

blowing out a candle

a swallow of a carbonated drink

packing peanuts

a bleeding mosquito bite

trying to fall asleep in a too-warm room

loud laughter somewhere else in the neighborhood

a round rock in the palm of your hand

putting your hair in a tight ponytail

steam rising from a bowl of soup

gum with all the flavor chewed out of it

the feel of banana peel

heavy boots

latex gloves

cold coins

an earthworm squirming in your palm

someone pulling away from a hug you wish would last longer

cloudless summer sky

ripping up a tuft of grass

getting water in your eyes

clean sheets

the packaging of snack food you’re eating late at night

cold water down your neck

nasty-tasting medicine

cleaning dirt from under your nails

holding your breath underwater

flies buzzing

thick fog

aluminum foil

the smell of stagnant water

the light of a full moon

bending a green twig in your hands

another person touching your skin with cold hands

motion sickness

tufts of shed fur

hard candy dissolving in your mouth

a feeling of acceleration in your chest

Enjoy! Ask away!

If you want a certain character, don’t be afraid to ask, and if you don’t know what character could fit, but you want to see it anyhow, I’ll use a character I think might fit for you. 😊

[crescendo-for-survival]

one word ideas for when you’re feeling stuck

A aeipathy (n.) - an enduring and consuming passion aleatory (n.) - relying on chance or an uncontrolled element in the details of life or in the creation of art alharaca (spanish, n.) - an extraordinary or violent emotional reaction to a small issue anacampserote (n.) - something that can bring back a lost love antiscians (n.) - people who live on opposite sides the world, “whose shadows at noon are cast in opposite directions” áoyè // 熬夜 (chinese, n.) - to pull an all-nighter   appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond aranyhíd (hungarian, n) - “the golden bridge”; the reflection of the sun as it shines on water aspectabund (adj.) - letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one’s face and eyes asterismos (n.) - “marking with stars”; a word that gives weight or draws attention to the words that follow aswium // 아쉬움 (korean, n.) - the mingled feeling of disappointment, frustration, and regret that results from an unsatisfactory situation atermoiements (french, n.) - distractions or hesitations leading to procrastination avos’ // авось (russian, n.) - blind trust in sheer luck

B balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment basorexia (n.) - the overwhelming desire to kiss bilita mpash (bantu, n.) - the opposite of a nightmare; not merely a good dream, but a blissful state where all is forgiven and forgotten brontide (n.) - the low rumble of distant thunder brumous (adj.) - of grey skies and winter days; filled with heavy clouds or fog b’shirt // באשַערט (yiddish, n.) - “destiny”; referring to the seeking of a person who will complement you and whom you will complement perfectly

C cafuné (portuguese, n.) - the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair caim (scottish, n.) - an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved, even in the darkest times casuistry (n.) - deceptive or excessively subtle reasoning chéngquán // 成全 (chinese, v.) - “to become whole”; to selflessly help someone achieve their aim chimerical (adj.) - created by unchecked imagination; fantastically visionary or highly improbable commuovere (italian, v.) - to stir, to touch, to move to tears consenescere (latin, v.) - to grow old and grey together; to stay too long in an occupation; to decay, to lose respect, to fade convivencia (spanish, n.) - living together, in the sense of living or working closely with other people with whom you share feelings, desires, or a common purpose

D defenestrate (n.) - to throw someone or something out of a window dépaysement (n.) - the feeling that comes from not being in one’s home country   dérive (french, n.) - a spontaneous journey where the traveler leaves their life behind for a time to let the spirit of the landscape and architecture attract and move them desenrascanço (portuguese, n.) - the improvisation of haphazard but completely sound solutions or plans at the last minute   dormiveglia (italian, n.) - the space that stretches between sleeping and waking dustsceawung (n.) - reflection on people, and on the knowledge that all things will turn to dust

E eigengrau (german, n.) - “intrinsic grey”; the color seen by the eye in perfect darkness erlebnisse (german, n.) - the experiences, positive or negative, that we feel most deeply, and through which we truly live estivate (v.) - to be inactive or asleep through the summer’s heat and then come awake and alive in the winter eudaimonia (n.) - a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous

F fanaa // فناء (urdu, n.) - destruction of the self; “destroyed in love” fernweh (german, n.) - feeling homesick for a place you have never been to finifugal (adj.) - hating endings; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moments of a story, relationship, or some other journey firgun // פירגון (hebrew, n.) - the act of sharing in or even contributing to someone else’s pleasure or fortune, with a purely generous heart and without jealousy fisselig (german, n.) - being flustered to the point of incompetence; a temporary state of inexactitude and sloppiness that is elicited by another person’s nagging fuubutsushi // 風物詩 (japanese, n.) - the feelings, scents, or images that evoke memories or anticipation of a particular season

G gezellig (dutch, adj.) - cozy, nice, inviting, pleasant, comfortable; connoting time spent with loved ones or togetherness after a long separation gibel // гибель (russian, n.) - not death, not suicide, but simply ceasing to exist; deteriorating in a way that is painful for others gibigianna (italian, n.) - the play of light reflected from water or a mirror; a sunlit area gigil (tagalog, v.) - to grit the teeth in order to resist the urge to pinch or squeeze something extremely cute gökotta (swedish, n.) - dawn picnic to hear the first birdsong; the act of rising in the early morning to watch the birds or to go outside to appreciate nature guanxi // 關係 (chinese, n.) - a network of social connections based on mutual trust and the balancing of debts by returning favors so that the relationship’s benefits are shared by all

H hanyauku (kwangali, n.) - the act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand hifistelyä (finnish, n.) - something sophisticated, luxurious, and expensive, which is however a very minor improvement and is not needed hiraeth (welsh, n.) - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past honne // 本音 (japanese, n.) - what a person truly believes; the behavior and opinions which are often kept hidden and only displayed with one’s closest confidants hüzün (turkish, n.) - a melancholy resulting from inadequacy or failure and weighing so heavily that it becomes communal, resigned, and even curiously poetic

I ichariba chode // 行逢りば兄弟 (japanese, phr.) - “though we meet but once, even by chance, we are friends for life”   iktsuarpok (inuit, n.) - the frustration of waiting for someone to turn up ilunga (tshiluba, n.) - a person who is ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, but never a third time incalescent (adj.) - growing hotter or more ardent; set ablaze induratize (v.) - to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love

J jaaneman // जानेमन  // جان ِ من (persian, n.) - “soul of me”; gender-neutral word for sweetheart or darling jiāoqiǎnyánshēn // 交浅言深 (chinese, v.) - to have a deep and intimate conversation with a stranger jīlè // 雞肋 (chinese, n.) - things that you have no use for, yet still don’t want to throw away

K kairos καιρός (greek, n.) - the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement kalopsia (n.) - the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are kalsarikännit (finnish, v.) - to get drunk alone at home in your underwear karōshi // 過労死 (japanese, n.) - death from being overworked katzenjammer (german, n.) - a bad hangover or a general state of depression or bewilderment kawaakari // 川明かり (japanese, n.) - the gleam of last light on a river’s surface at dusk; the glow of a river in the darkness       kilig (tagalog, n.) - the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, usually when something romantic takes place kintsukuroi // 金繕い (japanese, n.) - “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken koyaanisqatsi (hopi, n.) - nature out of balance; a way of life so unbalanced that you need a new way kruschteln (german, v.) - to look for an item in a disorganized pile of stuff

L la douleur exquise (french, n.) - the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable l’appel du vide (french, n.) - “the call of the void”; the instinctive urge to jump from high places latibule (n.) - a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort lethe (n.) - oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget lítost (czech, n.) - regret and remorse and repentance; a state of agony and torment; sorrow said to be created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery livsnjutare (swedish, n.) - one who loves life deeply and lives it to the extreme

M mamihlapinatapei (yagán, n.) - the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so matutine (adj.) - just before the dawn mbuki-mvuki (bantu, v.) - to shed one’s clothing spontaneously and dance naked in joy meliorism (n.) - the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world mellandagarna (swedish, n.) - “the middle days”; the days between christmas and the new year meraki // μεράκι (greek, n.) - the soul, creativity, or love put into something; the essence of yourself that is put into your work metanoia (n.) - the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life mono no aware // 物の哀れ (japanese, n.) - the gentle wistfulness at the transience of things, and the awareness of the sadness of existence mudita // मुदित (sanskrit, n.) - sympathetic, vicarious joy; happiness rather than resentment at someone else’s well-being or good fortune mutterseelenallein (german, adj.) - utterly alone, as of refugees torn from their home country

N nakhes (yiddish, n.) - the satisfaction gained from life’s gifts; proud pleasure, especially in one’s children or grandchildren and their successes, however small ñáñaras (spanish, n.) - the free-falling sensation in the body caused by an unpleasant situation, fear, anxiety, insecurity, or other intense emotions   natsukashii // 懐かしい (japanese, adj.) - of some small thing that brings you suddenly and joyously back to fond memories, not with a wistful longing for what’s past, but with an appreciation of the good times nazlanmak (turkish, v.) - pretending reluctance or indifference when you are actually willing or eager; saying no and meaning yes nefelibata (spanish, n.) - “cloud-walker”; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art nemesism (greek, n.) - frustration, anger, or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one’s way of living nemophilist (n.) - a haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering noceur (french, n.) - one who sleeps late or not at all; one who stays out late to revel or party noctuary (n.) - the record of a single night’s events, thoughts, or dreams novaturient (adj.) - desiring or seeking powerful change in one’s life, behavior, or situation numinous (adj.) - describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted; the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired

O offing (n.) - the deep, distant stretch of the ocean that is still visible from the land orenda (iroquoian, n.) - a mystical force present in all people that empowers them to affect the world, or to effect change in their own lives ostranenie // остранение (russian, n.) - encouraging people to see common things as strange, wild, or unfamiliar; defamiliarizing what is known in order to know it differently or more deeply oubliette (n.) - a dungeon with a door only in the ceiling; a place you put people to forget about them

P palinoia (n.) - the obsessive repetition of an act until it is perfect or mastered pareidolia (n.) - the instinct to seek familiar forms in disordered images like clouds or constellations; the perception of random stimuli as significant peripeteia // περιπέτεια (greek, n.) - a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances; the point of no return pretoogjes (dutch, n.) - the eyes of a chuckling person who is up to benign mischief

Q quaquaversal (adj.) - moving or happening in every direction instantaneously querencia (spanish, n.) - a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

R ranço (portuguese, n.) - the inexplicable feeling of disliking someone without a proper reason   rantipole (v.) - to be wild and reckless rasasvada // रसास्वाद  (sanskrit, n.) - the taste of bliss in the absence of all thoughts recumbentibus (n.) - the knockout or ending blow, physical or verbal; the final, winning argument redamancy (n.) - the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full resfeber (swedish, n.) - the restless race of the traveler's heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together retrouvaille (french, n.) - the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery

S sankofa (akan, n.) - “go back and fetch it”; to look back on the past in order to understand how we became what we are, and move forward to a better future     sarang // 사랑 (korean, n.) - “i wish to be with you until death”     saudade (portuguese, n.) - a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost sciamachy (n.) - a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow scintilla (n.) - a tiny, brilliant flash or spark; a small thing; a barely-visible trace sehnsucht (german, n.) - a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one’s home serein (french, n.) - the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of night setsunai // 切ない (japanese, n) - the feeling between bittersweet, painful, and wistful sillage (french, n.) - the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone smultronställe (swedish, n.) - a special place discovered, treasured, returned to for solace and relaxation; a personal idyll free from stress or sadness   soigné (french, adj.) - possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details sophrosyne // σωφροσύνη (greek, n.) - a healthy state of mind, characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one’s true self, and resulting in true happiness sturmfrei (german, adj.) - the freedom of not being watched by a parent or superior; being alone at a place and having the ability to do what you want susurrus (n.) - a low, soft sound, as of whispering or muttering or a quiet wind súton (croatian, n.) - the approach of death or the end of something

T tacenda (n.) - things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence tatemae // 建前 (japanese, n.) - what a person pretends to believe; the behavior and opinions one must display to satisfy society’s demandsv. temerate (v.) - to break a bond or binding promise toska // тоска (russian, n.) - ache of soul, longing with nothing to long for tsundoku // 積ん読 (japanese, n.) - buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves or floors or nightstands

U uitwaaien (dutch, v.) - to take a break to clear one’s head

V vagary (n.) - an unpredictable instance, a wandering journey; a whimsical, wild, or unusual idea, desire, or action velleitie (n.) - a wish or powerful desire for something that nonetheless is not or cannot be followed by actions meant to pursue it venters (scots, n.) - what the wind or tide drives in from the ocean upon a wave vernorexia (n.) - a romantic mood inspired by spring videnda (n.) - the things that should be seen or visited, especially if because they mark the character of a person or place volta // βόλτα (greek, n.) - a leisurely stroll along the main street or the seashore as the sun is setting, to meet and talk with friends and neighbors vorfreude (german, n.) - the joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures

W wabi-sabi // 侘寂 (japanese, n) - accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay wēijī // 危機  (chinese, n.) - crisis or critical moment; from risk 危 and opportunity 機, the idea that there can be a positive result in a wisely handled risk

X xibipíío (pirahã, adj.) - of experiential liminality; of a being in the boundaries of experience and the act of entering or leaving perception xuānxiè // 宣泄 (chinese, v.) - “to let accumulated water flow”; to emotionally unburden oneself

Y ya’aburnee // يقبرني (arabic, phr.) - “you bury me”; wishing for a loved one to outlive you because of how unbearable life would be without them yakamoz (turkish, n.) - the reflection of the moon as it shines upon the water

Z zugzwang (german, n.) - a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or one that will result in damage or loss

[firelxdykatara]

thoughts

https://fantastic-nonsense.tumblr.com/post/109210474025/why-korrasami-happened-and-some-korrasami-meta

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I really don’t have much to add, quite frankly. I agree with pretty much everything @fantastic-nonsense said, regarding Mako and Korra’s relationship as well as the lack of believable build-up that could have lead to Korra and Asami ‘confirming’ a relationship by the end of the show.

I already wrote a post where I talked a bit about how Mako and Korra were better set up for a romantic ‘endgame’ by book 4, and that there were numerous opportunites for Bryke to set up their ‘intended’ pairing, which they failed to take. (As I said in my post, why was Mako the one to go with Korra to face Zaheer, and not Asami? [I may absolutely hate that plot point for numerous reasons, not the least of which being how much I hate the narrative that Korra needed to ‘experience true suffering to learn compassion’ and then followed that up by going to her abuser for advice and the way that entire moment was framed, but why wasn’t the person who was going to apparently become her girlfriend in a handful of episodes the one who was there to support her during a possibly triggering and traumatic experience???] Why did Mako, and not Asami, get an episode practically devoted to his feelings for Korra? Why did Mako, and not Asami, get to tell Korra he loved and cared about her?)

I’ve always said, and I’ll continue to say, that as a bi woman, I love that Korra and Asami are bi. As a fan of the Avatar universe as a whole, and as a queer fan in particular? I absolutely hate the way that whole thing was handled. I hate that Bryke basically used Sudden Queer Rep to distract fans from the very valid complaints they were making about the way the show had been so badly mishandled the entire time. I hate that it worked--that people got so wrapped up in ‘omg Bryke confirmed Korrasami, they’re True Allies’ that they completely forgot all the horrible problems that had been plaguing the show almost from the start. And then, because Korrasami got to kiss a few times in the comics, they ignored how badly the comics themselves continued to mangle the Avatar universe.

(Yeah, I’m still salty about the sudden reveal of institutionalized homophobia when there was no fucking need for it. Just because the Fire Nation was Evil so everything they did must be Evil I guess???? Ugh.)

A couple straight white guys got to write a series where the dark-skinned female protagonist got torn down, beaten, and brutalized again and again, culminating in a scene where she was brutally tortured for several minutes on screen and later said that she needed to go through such experiences to ‘learn compassion’ (as if she hadn’t already shown she was compassionate and caring in addition to headstrong and hot-headed), and then, because they gave her a female love interest in the last five seconds of the show (which had to be confirmed after the fact because they were too cowardly to actually approach Nick about it before the literal last second), they got hailed as visionaries and allies, and I gotta say, from the most cynical of perspectives it was kind of a brilliant move.

They say never attribute to malice that which can be attributed to incompetence, but frankly, the older I get and the more I see of the things they said in interviews and about and to their fans, and the way they view their own creations and their approaches to showrunning??? The more malicious I find it, and the less I’m inclined to give them any benefits of the doubt.

[excellynt]

Ukagaka Dreams and Shining Support

The Ukagaka Dream Team community has come a long ways in the last year. We started out with just a handful of us on discord, surviving on @zarla-s​ ghost template+guide, google translate, and raw determination. We’ve grown to around 200 members, including 50 people currently working on a ghost, 25 of which have published a ghost of their own! Some already published their first ghost, but many began their ghost dev journey within our community, and cite the support of the UDT as a major contributor to their project’s completion and even as a source of personal growth. 

Last November we even made contact with the JP Ghost Dev community, including the creator of SSP and maintainer of the AYA/YAYA language we program ghosts with! Ponapalt has been awesome in helping us catch up to our JP dev counterparts and even updating SSP with new features on our behalf! 

A while ago I started a Patreon to help offset the costs of buying FTP hosting for the @ukagakadreamteam server’s ghost devs, to have in-house hosting available for those without their own website. It’s also a way for members and friends to show their appreciation for all the effort I’ve put into making our community as wonderful as it is. 

I didn’t advertise it too much because I feel weird accepting money for stuff I consider a hobby, so it was just to cover the server costs. But... 

Money is really tight right now. 

I had to drop all of my patreon subscriptions last month. I barely scraped enough to pay for rent, my credit card is close to maxing out, and things are looking grim for the coming months. 

Getting evicted would definitely put a delay on any ghost development, heh. I’d move in with my parents so I wouldn’t be homeless. Even then, I may end up on a few months hiatus due to my depressed anxiety brain telling me I’m useless and incompetent, if I don’t get some financial support from somewhere. 

I have so much planned for MVSans, YBFFlowey, and even The Little Prince ghost. But I can’t see them through without help from all of you. I appreciate all of the User Reports, like I can’t even express how much they aid my development process! But screenshots won’t put food on my table, keep a roof over my head, or pay for my cat’s and my own medical bills, and ultimately that’s the biggest determination in whether I can keep up development. 

Patreon is a fantastic platform for creators such as myself, to receive financial assistance from followers like you, in order to keep creating the content that you love. You pledge a few dollars a month as a subscription of support and you’ll receive some awesome benefits based on how much you choose to pledge! 

These are the benefit tiers I offer for those able to give financial support! 

—Your name appears here as a Candlelight Patron! —Access to patron-only posts and previews of future updates on Patreon! —Instant invite to the Ukagaka Dream Team Discord Server, with special username colors! —Access to Patrons-Only discord channel and Ghost Dev streams!

your name could be here

...

—Your name appears here as a Sunlight Patron! —All of the previous tiers benefits with patron-exclusive content and Discord perks! —You fund hosting for a Ghost Dev (including yourself!) Every $5 is another slot. —Can participate in Patron-only polls to determine the next ghost dev focus.

Feenie @gaignunkukai​

your name could be here

...

—Your name appears here as a Moonbeam Patron! —All of the previous tiers patron-exclusive content, polls, and Discord perks! —You fund hosting for 2+ Ghost Dev (including yourself!) Every $5 is another slot. —Access to Tester-Only MVSans builds and behind-the-scenes of YBFFlowey! 

Fursie @fursie-does-art

Korofel @snakeandapples 

DJ Dusk @datonegaimidnight​ 

PlantCat @cat-from-the-void 

your name could be here 

...

—Your name appears here as a Shining Star Patron! (Limit 2) —All of the previous tiers patron-exclusive content, polls, and Discord perks! —You fund hosting for 10+ Ghost Dev (including yourself!) Every $5 is another slot. —Access to top-secret beta content of any of my other ghosts including YBFFlowey, something otherwise limited to hand-selected testers on the UDT server. —You can request a custom fork of MVSans, tailored to your preferences with anything you want and updated monthly, only for you, in addition to regular MVSans content updates. —Alternative to custom fork: you can pick a simple accessory to support next in public release, or the next AU Shell to support.

your name could be here 

your name could be here (Limit 2)

—Your name permanently appears here as a Ghosts and Dreams Patron.  —You fund hosting for 20+ Ghost Dev (including yourself!) Every $5 is another slot. —All of the previous tiers patron-exclusive and access top-secret beta content, discord rewards, and MVSans development influence. —You can have a ghost made to your custom order. This may take more than a month to complete if it's a complex order.

your name could be here (Limit 1 active)

I want to continue sharing my passion for ghosts, but I can’t do that if I’m overworking myself trying to make ends meet. If you like what I do, please consider sponsoring me so I can continue doing it.

Want to support, but can’t commit to a monthly subscription? Buy me a Ko-Fi! It’s just $3! 

Ko-Fi Supporters: 

Victoria @boomable​ (special thanks for helping me set Ko-Fi up right!)

Brarb @thelibrarbian 

SarahCake @smallsarahcake

PlantCat @cat-from-the-void (special thanks for over $100 of Ko-Fi!!!)

KFC @characteroulette 

DJ Dusk @datonegaimidnight​

Fursie @fursie-does-art

your name could be here

... 

Since every one of my ongoing supporters have been a member of the UDT server, I kept my patrons up-to-date on an individual day to day basis in Discord rather than Patreon itself. Once I get some off-server patrons I’ll have a need to post special content on Patreon again, and I’ve got some fun ideas for that! 

Support me via Patreon | Ko-Fi today!

Can’t even spare a Ko-Fi? You can still help by reblogging and sharing this post, and share your enjoyment of ALL ukagaka ghosts with your friends! 

[jasmineuni-blog]

For more information,

Hyperlinks. Trapdoors, embedded in the fabric of the internet, leading us deeper and deeper into the World Wide Web. Almost every website we visit has them, and yet we never stop to consider how significant they actually might be.

There are many reasons why the humble hyperlink is a fantastic tool for digital writers. By linking certain bits of text to other pieces, they organise the text in a non-sequential way, making it easier for us readers to quickly find the stuff we want to see. As Jones and Hafner describe, “the writer of a hypertext document creates a range of choices for the reader, who selects from them in order to create a pathway through the text”. Convenience, then, and ease, are massive benefits of using hyperlinks in online writing. 

Hyperlinks can be internal, i.e. linking to another section of the same wider text, or external, i.e. taking you to a completely different text online. This means you can jump over irrelevant material on the internet and get fast-forwarded straight to what you want. Basically, an online ‘skip-the-queue’.

External links also enable writers to back up their own work by directing their readers to other webpages which support or prove it. Links take you to websites which go deeper into detail, or elaborate on the writer’s claims.

The great Wikipedia is the King of Internal Hyperlinks: pretty much every Wiki page is littered with blue underlines which escort you to various other Wiki entries. For example, by searching for William Shakespeare, I can follow a direct pathway of hyperlinks and end up on the page for The International Tennis Federation, in just a few clicks.

For external hyperlinks, most informative webpages will contain links to other websites, companies, shops, charities etc to offer further service or information: one example of this is The Telegraph’s Best Beach Guide:

Here external links allow readers to click straight onto different websites such as restaurants, hotels etc. near the beaches on the list, making the reader’s experience more efficient.

So, hyperlinks make online information clearly signposted, well organised, and  easy to navigate. However, they can also allow users to carelessly slip into a mindset where we trust the pathway laid out before us by these links, and don’t think twice about what lies beyond the little blue underline. 

It’s common to assume that since the hyperlink is taking you to “more information”, the source of that information must be valid and fair; this isn’t always the case. Readers have absolutely zero control over where that link is going to transport them - they can only control whether they click on it or not, and there’s no going back. Websites may have hidden agendas, strong political views, motivations to affect how people think. If we blindly click, read, and accept what hyperlinks are telling us, we risk being brainwashed by the specific words the writer wants us to be reading. Perhaps we should have a more cynical, critical attitude towards what we interpret from hyperlinked writing.

And remember the ease and convenience of hyperlinks I mentioned earlier? While that might be beneficial on some occasions, it might harm us in the long run, some researchers are now suggesting. The presence of simple links that take us straight to our desired destination is making us lazy, incompetent, and - all in all - bad researchers. Information is plated up and served to us, and we’re way more likely to take the easy option and use what we’re given, rather than continue fishing on the internet for other data which may, or may not, be more useful and relevant. We no longer have to think about what we want to know, and where’s best to find it: we just trust the link straightaway and move on with our lives. Does this mean that our standards of research in education and academia could be under threat?

Overall, the beauty of having a pathway cut through the internet on your behalf means you can access information quickly and simply. But on the flip side, this naturally cuts out a whole host of other websites and sources offering material you may actually prefer. Being told to “click here for more information” might be impacting upon our thought processes, too. The fact we no longer need to wade through websites for hours to find our answers means we no longer need to read as much, full stop. Linguists are now questioning whether this is damaging our ability to read conventional texts and follow complex arguments. The constant stimulus of clicking from page to page without completing a whole text is stunting our deep thinking - is that worth risking, for the sake of some lazy links?

Sources

Jones, R. H. & Hafner, C. A. (2012). Understanding Digital Literacies: A Practical Introduction. London: Routledge.

Images

https://www.webfx.com/blog/web-design/designing-hyperlinks-tips-and-best-practices/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Shakespeare 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Tennis_Federation

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/united-kingdom/articles/best-uk-beaches/

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