#dyslexia wareness

[iread7ing]

iReading Tutor's Online Dyslexia Tutoring Programmers in the USA

In a world where literacy is the key to unlocking countless opportunities, individuals with dyslexia often find themselves facing barriers that hinder their ability to fully engage with written language. However, at iReading Tutor, we believe that every individual deserves the chance to thrive academically. That's why we're proud to offer our online Dyslexia Tutoring USA, aimed at empowering learners to overcome their challenges and become confident readers and writers.

Understanding Dyslexia:

Dyslexia manifests as a variance in learning, impacting how the brain comprehends both written and verbal language. Those with dyslexia may encounter difficulties in reading, writing, spelling, and occasionally, verbal communication. Despite their intelligence and creativity, these learners often face frustration and feelings of inadequacy due to their difficulties with literacy.

The Importance of Online Dyslexia Tutoring:

Traditional learning environments can be challenging for students with dyslexia, as they may struggle to keep pace with their peers or feel embarrassed about their difficulties. That's where online dyslexia tutoring comes in. By providing personalised support in a comfortable and familiar setting, students can build confidence and develop essential literacy skills at their own pace.

Our Approach:

At iReading Tutor, we understand that every learner is unique, which is why our online dyslexia tutoring programmer is tailored to meet the individual needs of each student. Our experienced tutors utilise evidence-based strategies and specialised resources to address areas such as phonemic awareness, decoding, fluency, and comprehension.

Meet Our Tutors:

Our team of dedicated tutors are not only highly qualified professionals but also passionate advocates for dyslexia awareness and support. With years of experience in working with learners of all ages and abilities, our tutors are committed to creating a supportive and nurturing learning environment where every student can thrive.

Benefits of Online Learning:

One of the key advantages of our online dyslexia tutoring programmers is the flexibility it offers. Students can access sessions from the comfort of their own homes, eliminating the need for travel and allowing for greater scheduling flexibility. Additionally, our online platform provides interactive tools and resources that engage students and enhance their learning experience.

Writing Tutor for Autism in the USA:

In addition to our dyslexia tutoring programmer, iReading Tutor also offers specialised support for individuals with autism. Our writing tutors are trained to understand the unique needs and challenges of learners on the autism spectrum, providing tailored instruction and support to help them develop their writing skills and express themselves confidently.

Get in Touch:

Ready to empower your child with the gift of literacy? Contact iReading Tutor today at +1 561-601-5883 to learn more about our online dyslexia tutoring programmers in the USA. Our friendly team is here to answer any questions you may have and help you get started on the path to success.

Conclusion:

At iReadingTutor, we believe that every individual has the potential to succeed, regardless of their learning differences. With our Online Dyslexia Tutoring USA, we're dedicated to breaking down barriers and empowering learners to reach their full potential. Join us on this journey towards literacy and unlock a world of endless possibilities.

[vandroid-helsing]

2. Album of the year?

11. Something you want to do again next year?

14. Favorite book you read this year?

2. Oh geez uh

Ben Haana Wa Maana, DAM

Dyslexia, Emsallam

Javelin, Sufjan Stevens

Lekhfa, Maryam Saleh, Maurice Louca, Tamer Abu Ghazaleh

The Loveliest Time, Carly Ray Jepsen

That! Feels Good!, Jessie Ware

11. Announce another book 😅

14. Already answered but I’ll shout out a few more:

Ducks, Kate Beaton

Fugitive Atlas, Khaled Mattawa

The Killing Grounds, Joan Tierney

The Looking Glass War, John le Carré

Shahnameh, Abolqasem Ferdowsi

[rattytaffy]

No no I get it =^.^=!

Honestly I'm fucking psyched for where the series goes from here.

Scott has always had some uh themes and symbols that where rather subtle in his games. and Steel Wool is just saying "FUCK IT here's the symbols here are the Themes here is what they meant before and that was a deception"

And like I got a Tumblr essay on the topic i plan to post once i have a friend proof read it for me because of my dyslexia.

honestly no matter whose right in the end about what cannon goes ware I'm just glad that someone with an understanding of literature, narrative, and unreliable narrators clearly has the pen now.

Also anyone find it odd that in a set of games where Glitches are narratively and symbolically important Help wanted runs fine natively on an oculus quest 2 (a true feet of programing on its own) and RUIN had its bugs fixed damn fast, But the base game of Security Breech is still buggy? but in a way that makes it easier? in a way that's distracting? has anyone like data mined the base game since RUIN? Something Feels deeply off to me?

I hope this isn't a hot take, but Scott Cawthon is a shitty writer

The reason the lore makes no fucking sense is because he just randomly adds or retcons things with no explanation and, at this point, I think he just enjoys watching people (especially MatPat) go crazy theorizing

Like, the man may as well have confirmed dream theory a few years ago, only to go "wait, never mind, here’s Sister Location and everything is real, I promise"

I doubt even Scott understands his own story because it was written with the same grace and talent as an edgy middle school kid trying to write the next Jeff the Killer, so they shove everything they think is cool into the story, whether or not it fits

People say "oh, he didn't realize it would be more than (however many) games. He didn't plan that far ahead," but that excuse should only get you so far when you are writing a story

It's pretty clear that after at least game 4 (some say game 3, so I'm being nice), he stopped caring about the story and began just duct taping things he thought were interesting into a story that could've been wrapped up with MAYBE 5 games (1, 2, 3, 4, and pizzeria Sim with something in the other four to explain Baby and Molten Freddy, or get rid of them, I don't care), but instead it's a cluster fuck of weird details that DON’T MAKE SENSE

Look, I think a lot of us, myself included, can sometimes confuse a good CONCEPT with a good STORY

The storytelling of FNAF is dog shit, but the concept is just SO good, which is why people like the FNAF VHS tapes so much: these people are able to take a terrifying and interesting concept and make a truly good implied horror story with it in the way Scott NEVER could

And don't get me started on the books: First, they're not canon, then they're canon, but also, some stories may only be canon in another alternate universe or something, but if you actually want to understand something, you need to read some of the books

Your story should not have to be told across multiple different media for it to be even SLIGHTLY coherent. It's fine if you want to add in details that aren't too important to understanding the entire thing (like, we don't specifically need to know the names of each kid William killed, but it's a cool fact to know. Or maybe expand on how Freddy's and the incidents affected different people), but, as cool as it was, Golden Freddy being possessed by two children is a pretty crucial point to the rest of the series to be in just some activity book that so easily could've been overlooked as something fun to do related to FNAF (IMO)

Not to mention, we apparently can't even agree on the name of the Crying Child who, I think, was the catalyst for this entire story (because we can't even seem to agree if Elizabeth or CC died first)

TL;DR FNAF is a great concept, and it's been shown that it can make a great story by people who are much more skilled than Scott Cawthon (or maybe they just care more about this series than it's own creator, I don't fucking know)

Also, sorry if I'm incoherent or get anything wrong, I typed this while I was incredibly tired, but I did try to edit it as much as I could the past few days

[madsjohanogaard]

Still a week left of October so be why not ware something red and/or orange❤️🧡? —————- Check out more of me I make art about mental health, learning, dyslexia etc. Link to other platforms in my bio✨ @madsjohanogaard ▪️ Watch my short film @iamdyslexicshortfilm ▪️ Fakemon page: @hydonso ——— #Iamdyslexic #animation #orange #dyslexia #madsjohanogaard #dyslexiaawareness #orangeadhdribbon #goredfordyslexia #adhd #dyslexic #dysleksi #add #goorangeforadhd #neurodivergent (at World Wide) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj3Du_4MCCR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[monstersandmaw]

Female orc (Rakasha) x male character  (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Yes, her name is Rakasha, not rakshasa. Sorry if that’s confusing for those like me with some form of dyslexia! Why do I do this to myself. Anyway, folks, this is a story reward for one of my higher tiers, featuring a snarky orc, a Tired(tm) healer, and a pair of cursed rings...

I really hope you enjoy it!! Don't forget to let me know if you did by reblogging it! It means the world, but if you're shy, a click on the heart button is also great :)

Content: past family deaths, nsfw, and fluff. :) Word count: 9206

---

Virion stepped through the bazaar, trying not to gaze around him and gawk at everything as if he’d never been in a town before. That was a sure-fire way to stand out and attract a cut-purse, or perhaps worse. Trinkets here and there caught his eye, but he never lingered long, slouching along with his hands in his pockets.

Taller than many of the humans, he nearly tripped over a tiny fae creature as they scuttled along after a what he had thought was a puppy at first, but when he saw it had six legs, and scales mixed in with the fur, he blinked, shook his head a little, and moved on. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, and just let the current of people pull him along through the bustling, tightly-packed stalls until he came to a tiny, extremely narrow shop crammed into the space between two larger facades, almost as though it had been deliberately stuffed into the gap between two buildings. On closer inspection of the roof line, he saw that that was exactly what had happened.

Equal parts amused and intrigued at the odd little place, he pushed the door open, his palm pressed flat to the cool, warped glass panels, and stepped into the fusty old shop. A smell of damp paper and slightly mildewed leather filled the air, and despite the apparent narrowness of the space from the outside, a huge amount of ‘stuff’ was crammed into the shop. Cabinets of curiosities lined the right hand wall, while various trinkets and pieces of mismatching armour were aligned along the left. A helmet with a completely bashed in faceplate stood proudly on a small wooden pedestal on the table, and around it were an arrangement of bronze arrowheads etched with runes. Down the centre of the room were piled trunks and boxes and crates, right up to the spider-webbed rafters.

It was only as a shadow moved further down the shop that he realised he was not the only customer.

A tall, well-built, female orc wearing a studded, leather travelling jerkin moved idly to examine some daggers arranged in a stand, and Virion found himself drawn down the narrow corridor of space between the wooden crates and the left hand wall. He’d always found orcs a strange people, and one he knew very little about despite having travelled a fair bit. She had a lethal looking re-curve bow strapped to her back, and a number of other weapons glinted and caught his eye the longer he looked.

From behind a nearby box, a tiny, stoop-spined old man suddenly and rather gleefully croaked, “Visitors!” and both the orc and Virion startled, whipping round to face the source of the exclamation.

The orc growled softly to herself, fingers gripped around a knife at her hip and muttering under her breath in a language Virion didn’t recognise, but he knew softly-hissed curses when he heard them.

“Peace, peace,” the ancient little man laughed - a sound like a piece of dry, crumpled parchment. He poked his half-moon glasses back up his bulbous nose with an arthritic finger and grinned toothlessly up at the orc. “Ah,” he said. “I see you have found my collection of daggers. I would direct your attention to this one, with the hilt made of-.”

“I’m not interested in those,” she said, bluntly cutting him off. “I need some more arrowheads. You got any?”

“Hmm,” the shopkeeper said, bobbing his head repeatedly like a child’s toy and seemingly unperturbed by her rudeness. “Yes, yes. Finest goblin forged steel? Or perhaps you’re looking for something a little closer to home? We have orcish wares too…”

“I don’t care. It just needs to be about this big -” she held up her finger and thumb and Virion glimpsed scars and some dotted tattoos across her knuckles before she lowered her hand and shot him a nasty look. “And I need them sharp. I can’t be bothered pissing about sharpening them. I’ll take about twenty.”

“I’ve only got ten goblin forged -”

“Whatever. I’ll take what you have then.”

Virion’s brows knitted but he decided to keep back and mind his own business. Traditionally, as far as he knew anyway, orcs were quick to anger, and not the kind of creature you wanted to piss off.

Turning his attention back to the plethora of things arrayed along the wall, he found his eyes resting on a pair of rings in a simple wooden box. He’d always been curious as a child, and suddenly a very child-like urge to pick one up and try it on overwhelmed him. Unable to stop himself - after all, what was the harm in trying on a simple band of tarnished silver? - he reached for it and slid it onto his right index finger.

Holding it up in the dim light, he saw that it wasn’t a plain ring after all. Engraved into the band was the design of two dragons, their snouts almost touching, their wings outstretched along the middle of the band, while along the upper and lower extremities seemed to be some kind of text, ancient and unreadable to him at least. It caught the light in a pleasant way and he smiled, considering asking the shopkeeper how much he wanted for it.

The wizened old man, however, had disappeared to fetch the small batch of arrowheads, the orc wandered over and picked up the other one, turning it over in her jade green fingers. Her expression softened somehow, the tension melting from her brows, and she reminded Virion of his late sister trying on their mother’s jewellery. Not that she’d had much, but Clara had always held it with a wondrous kind of reverence. It brought a smile to Virion’s face to see the tough woman enjoy something so frivolous and harmless as trying on a ring.

The shopkeeper returned and handed her the arrowheads, and when he saw what she was doing, his blue eyes lit up with joy and he clapped his hands together.

The orc didn’t seem put off by his odd reaction, but then she actually slid it onto her finger and everything happened at once.

A light flashed between Virion and the orc, bleaching his vision blank, and a burst of energy exploded from its epicentre. Objects went flying from the shelves and rained down onto the flagstone floor around them. Virion was knocked back, landing heavily on his backside, while the orc reeled and staggered into what sounded like a tower of wooden crates.

Virion rubbed at his eyes, blinking furiously, and gradually his sight began to return to him. From the way the orc was mashing the heel of her palm into her own eye sockets, he assumed things were going as slowly for her as they were for him.

“What the fuck?” she rasped a moment later. “I… I can’t…”

Still blinking, his ears ringing a bit from the release of whatever force had been cooped up in the two rings, he tottered to his feet and looked down at his hand. The band, which had been darkened with age was now bright as a newly struck coin, but what sent a jolt of real, ice-cold terror through him, was the fact that it wouldn’t come off. It wouldn’t even budge. Somehow, a ring that had been a little bit too big for his finger when he’d first slipped it on, was now nestled snugly around it, and was refusing to come off.

The orc, he saw when he glanced over at where she still sat on the floor, was in the same situation.

“Where’s that little fucker?” she snarled, pushing herself up with the lithe speed of a panther and looking around for the shopkeeper. “He’d better not have been a fucking fae… I’ll rip his head off his scrawny neck if he can’t fix this…”

“Easy,” Virion murmured levering himself more carefully to his feet. “There has to be an explanation. He must be here somewhere. Perhaps he was knocked over by the explosion as well?”

The orc fixed him with such a derisive look that he actually took a step back, her amber eyes glowing in the dim light of the shop.

But the little man was nowhere to be found. They searched the entirety of the shop, finding nothing in the back but spiderwebs and the dry skeleton of what might have been a rat. When they emerged from the storeroom at the back, they passed through the shop - careful to touch nothing this time - and the orc growled, “Listen, there’s a goblin who runs a jewellery shop back up towards the town square. He might be able to get this off.”

Virion nodded, still shaken and feeling a little wobbly in the knees. Magic wasn’t something he wanted anything to do with, and yet here he was, with some ancient ring stuck on his hand. Just like him to barrel headlong into trouble without a care in the world.

“Since we’re in this predicament together,” he ventured amicably as the orc led the way through the street without looking back at the shop, “I’m Virion.”

With little more than a fleeting, sidelong look down at him from her impressive height, she grunted, “Rakasha.”

She seemed to have little interest in further conversation, so he simply strode along beside her, keeping pace easily enough, and occasionally bringing his hand up to stare at the ring in the sunlight.

The goblin, however, had no good news for them. He tried to cut the rings off using some beefy looking wire cutters, but they glanced off the surface without leaving so much as a scratch. “I suspect a saw wouldn’t do any better either. Might lop your finger off, and who knows what that would do to you…” He rubbed his long ear thoughtfully with gnarled fingers and said, “Mmm… these are magic, for sure. You’d be better off going to somewhere like the University up at Grantbridge. They’ll have mages there who’ll be able to help you. I’m sorry.”

Rakasha snarled and stormed out without so much as a thank you to the goblin, and Virion turned back to the tiny creature with a sigh. Before he was able to articulate even the first syllable of his thank you, blinding pain erupted in his stomach again and his knees buckled. Clutching his middle, he went down like a felled tree as white heat burst through his skull and he could barely think through the sudden shock of agony.

The goblin scuttled around the counter and crouched beside him, just as Rakasha lurched back in through the door. As she did, the pain eased, and Virion opened his eyes, panting. “What the…?” he wheezed.

The jeweller looked from one to the other of them and his black eyes widened. “I’ve heard of enchanted objects like this,” he said, his reedy voice grim and hushed. “You can’t go further than a short distance from one another…”

Virion chuckled mirthlessly. “You might have mentioned that sooner, friend,” he said, and the goblin shot him a sheepish look of apology.

“Oh fuck this,” Rakasha rumbled, still holding onto the open door for support and looking a little paler than she had done a minute ago. “As if having a cursed ring stuck to my hand wasn’t enough, I end up tied to a pathetic little human? How far is it to Grantbridge from here?”

Virion wasn’t exactly a hulking tower of warrior muscle, but neither was he small or weedy, and he scowled openly at the orc.

“Three weeks on foot?” the goblin hedged, steadying Virion as he clambered to his feet for a second time since putting on the ring. “Maybe a bit less for you two,” he added with a wry grin down at his own small boots.

“What if I just kill him and cut the ring off his finger?” she growled.

The goblin’s mottled grey-green skin blanched a little at that, and he held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, as if he thought she might just gut Virion then and there in his shop. Virion too took a step back, eyes fearful. The jeweller stammered, “M-Most of the time, or so I’ve heard, with such objects… if you were to do that, you’d only kill yourself as well… Your… Your life forces are linked, somehow… I’m not a mage though, so I… I don’t know the consequences of such extreme action…”

Rakasha looked at Virion with her amber eyes blazing like the setting sun, and said, “Tell me you don’t have some pressing business you need to get done first, right? Some wife and a brood of whelps you need to tend to…”

He shook his head sadly. “Just me,” he said. She seemed so full of anger, so defensive, so short-tempered and quick to dismiss others. This was going to be a long few weeks, he was sure of that.

After a brief stop at the tavern where he’d been staying, to collect his belongings and settle up, the two headed to the western corner of the small trading town, and began their journey up to Grantbridge. They would have to cross the Whispering Plains, a vast tract of grassland inhabited by centaurs, minotaurs, a few cervitaurs, and the bison folk, before hitting the Granta river, where they hoped to take passage on a barge, at the suggestion of the innkeeper at Virion’s former lodging. It should shave a few days off their journey time.

That first day as they trudged in almost complete silence along the Queen’s Road, through lush copses and gentle rolling hills, Virion thought Rakasha might still risk lopping his head off with the axe at her belt. She spoke no more than a few words to him, and by the time the sun was tipping towards the horizon, he had given up trying to make conversation with her. She just ignored him, as though he were some kind of yapping stray puppy who had decided to trot along at her heels for a while, and who would soon grow bored and go away.

Rakasha was tense, her shoulders set, her pace relentless as she marched along, and every now and again she would cock her head to one side, as though listening to the woods on their left for trouble. The sun grew warm in the late afternoon, and she shucked her long sleeved leather jerkin off to reveal her impressive torso, wrapped only in the bindings around her muscular breasts and leaving her smooth stomach and muscled arms bare. Virion, despite being more than wary of the orc and having only encountered her kind as vicious raiders in the past, couldn’t help but admire a being in the peak of fitness and conditioning. She was gorgeous too, he supposed in her powerful way.

Some time later, taking his eyes off the dirt track immediately in front of his boots, Virion glanced up and scowled. Up ahead there seemed to be a young looking cervitaur, lying limply on the side of the road. The two of them spotted him at the same time. Rakasha’s hand eased her axe in its holster while Virion immediately darted forwards, his mind already trying to evaluate his condition, even from that distance. The creature looked half-starved for a start, his hips standing out and his cervine and human ribs obvious as his chest heaved weakly.

Before he’d made it two paces down the road, Rakasha grabbed him by the top of his travel pack and hoiked him back as if it were the scruff of his neck, and growled at him to be careful. Biting back a hot flare of irritation, he batted her off with a carefully aimed swipe of his forearm. She released him more from surprise than his own martial arts skills - which were admittedly very limited. He’d just gone for the vulnerable bit where the muscle was thinnest and the bone unprotected. Who needed martial arts skills when your grasp of anatomy was as good as his…?

Kneeling at the dirty looking cervitaur’s side a moment or two later, he saw how thin and weak he looked.

“Help me?” he rasped.

“What happened?” Virion asked, wanting to run his hands over the cervitaur to check for injuries, but restraining himself to get permission first. “What hurts?”

Before he had the chance to hear any more, the cervitaur’s hazel eyes darted to a point just behind Virion’s head, and the man frowned, ducking sideways instinctively.

A gnoll had sprung silently out from the rocks above where the scrawny cervitaur lay, and launched himself at Virion. With a roar, Rakasha launched herself at a second bandit and at the same time, ripped the attacker back from Virion with her free hand. She cracked their skulls together, leaving them staggering and concussed, before knocking them out with the back of her single-bladed axe and turning to face the last bandit who had rounded a huge boulder just down the road.

Her hair fell down her back in its loose ponytail, and as she squared off, Virion’s eyes widened. The cervitaur she was facing now was huge, almost as powerful and muscular as a bison taur. With his stag’s antlers held high, he pawed the ground, and then lowered his torso a little and charged her.

Virion crouched beside the younger cervitaur, frozen with a kind of fascinated horror as the two fought. She was a complete force of nature. The cervitaur’s hooves lashed out but she ducked and dodged them, his antlers swept from side to side, but eventually she locked him in a wrestling move and tipped him onto his side, slamming him into the dirt of the road so hard he was left stunned and winded. Her axe blade hovered mere inches from his throat and he fell still.

From beside him, the younger cervitaur gasped, “Uncle…”

“That’s your uncle?” Virion blurted, horrified that the kid was so young and malnourished compared to his relative.

Rakasha still had her axe blade to his throat and was snarling something in his ear. The cervitaur nodded in response, and suddenly she’d bashed him on the side of the head too, leaving him unconscious as well.

“He’ll be fine,” she growled as she prowled over to the pair of them. Virion suspected that all three of them would need to see a healer though; concussions like that didn’t just go away. “I take it you were bait, kid?” she said and the cervitaur nodded. She shot Virion a look that told him quite plainly what she thought of him for falling for the ruse so quickly. “Can you stand?”

Shakily, he staggered to his feet and accepted the water skin that Virion handed him. “Thank you,” he said.

“You should run while you can,” Virion said. “Get to the town… This is no life for you, kid…”

“I’m not a kid,” he said with a watery smile. “I’m nineteen.”

“You need to get some meat on your bones,” Virion murmured. “There’s lots of work in the town, and it’s only eight miles or so that way. You’ll have to be careful.”

“I’ll be alright,” he shrugged.

Virion grinned at him, though it was hard not to feel deep concern for the underfed and malnourished young cervitaur. Virion had been there himself: alone, aimless, adrift from his family. He offered him the knife on his belt, but the cervitaur refused him gently. “Alright, well… take care,” Virion said, scratching the back of his head.

The two of them watched him trot off down the road, and Virion shot a glance over the three unconscious bandits. The male gnoll who had attacked him was still out cold, but the female flicked an ear groggily.

“Come on,” Rakasha snarled, and he turned to face her.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, only just noticing a bruised-looking gash on her upper arm, presumably where the stag’s antlers had got her.

She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait,” he said, picking up his pack from where he’d slithered out of it during the scuffle. Rakasha continued down the road, and when she hit about twenty five feet from him, she grunted, staggering. Virion, however, experienced blinding pain in his gut and head and was not ashamed to howl in protest. “Fucking shit, Rakasha, at least let me grab my stuff will you?”

The orc grudgingly let him catch up and then grunted, “We should make camp for the night soon… while there’s still enough daylight.”

With a glance over his shoulder at the still-prone bandits, Virion added, “Let’s get another few miles first, eh?”

He couldn’t stop fussing - silently and only to himself, however - about the cut in her arm, and when they finally turned off the road perhaps only twenty minutes before sunset, she surprised him by allowing him to tend the wound. It wasn’t deep, and hadn’t needed stitches, but he fished out some alcohol and a clean cloth from his bag and wiped it down, eliciting a hiss from her, and a softly spoken curse in her own language.

“You know,” he said, “I… I feel like I have an apology to make to you…”

“For that?” she snorted, jutting her chin towards the freshly-tied bandage around her arm. “Please. That didn’t hurt.”

“No,” he laughed softly. “No, for assuming you were just a brutish thug, I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he flushed hot. “Care to elaborate?” she laughed.

He swallowed thickly. “You could have killed those guys today…” he said. “But you didn’t.”

Rakasha shrugged and stood, moving over to a log and rolling it a bit closer to the fire pit before plonking down on top of it and inspecting the bandage curiously. “I was going to, but I don’t want the law on my hands for murder. I’ve already got enough shit to deal with, being tied to you and cursed with this ring…”

Virion’s shoulders dropped a little bit and he caught Rakasha’s amber eyes watching him over the flames, glowing in the dim light.

“I’d be halfway across the plains by now if it weren’t for you,” she added, her voice gritty and harsh.

“What? How?”

She laughed, and while wasn’t exactly cruel, it was gruff and spoke of a tougher race than his own, for sure. “You can’t run beside an orc all day, human. Get some rest. We’ll start before dawn.”

He shook his head, fighting the disappointment that had bloomed in his chest. After so long on the road alone, he’d half hoped that this might turn into a tentative friendship, but the orc clearly regarded him as little more than a bothersome parasite. Honestly, he was tired, and although he was fairly fit and lean, his muscles ached from the pace she’d set that day. The orc was right - there was no way he could have run all the way to the ferry crossing on the Granta. Self-doubt and misery began to crowd into his mind, bringing with it memories of the most painful night of his life; the night he’d ended up alone and wandering the roads of this corner of the kingdom.

Needless to say, what with the creaking of the woods and the roots digging him in the back, and the nebulous unease that clawed at the inside of his mind, he didn’t sleep well. When he had sat up and scrubbed at his eyes with his hands, he found Rakasha staring at him.

“What?” he grumbled.

“You look like shit.”

“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” he retorted immediately, oddly reminded of the repartee he’d had with his sister for a moment. The sudden reminder and pain of Clara’s loss lanced through him and almost brought tears to his hazel eyes.

Rakasha, perhaps more curious than concerned, grunted, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, though it came out as a croak. He cleared his throat. “You ready to make a move?”

She nodded but didn’t speak.

“How’s your arm?” he asked, standing and feeling the need to answer nature’s call.

She shrugged her beautiful, bare shoulder experimentally and pursed her lips. Her tusks were thick and short, her jaw heavy, but there was something monumental about her that he found strangely beautiful, especially in the dim pre-dawn light between the birch trees. “It’s good,” was all she said.

As he’d returned - not going all that far because he didn’t want to risk the flaring hot agony of getting beyond the permitted range of the rings - drawing closer to the campsite, he felt something odd tugging at him on the inside with each step. It reminded him of the intense pain he’d felt in his gut the day before when she’d gone on ahead of him. If he concentrated on it hard enough, he realised that it was drawing him towards her.

“You felt that too, I take it,” he said when he returned and saw that she had paused, halfway through scuffing out the embers of the fire. In answer, she simply shouldered her bow, axe glinting softly in the loop at her belt.

Stepping out onto the road, Rakasha rolled her shoulder again and said, “Where’d you learn medicine like that?” she asked. “You’re not a mage, are you?”

He shook his head, secretly pleased that he’d helped with the already-advanced healing process orcs possessed. “Nope,” he said, letting the consonant pop. His chest fizzled as he felt the conversation steering around towards his past, but he didn’t shy away from it. If they were going to be travelling together, he didn’t mind trying to forge some kind of relationship with her this way. And besides, her curiosity was better than her contempt from the previous day.

“My father was a physician,” he said, voice catching on the tense of the verb. “My older sister too.”

“Was?”

“They’re both dead.”

“Spirits shelter their souls,” she murmured reflexively, and he smiled at the unexpected sentiment. “What happened?”

Virion swallowed thickly and ran his hand through his scruffy brown hair. “I used to travel all over with them… helping people here and there, you know. Setting broken bones, stitching up cuts, that kind of thing. But I didn’t take it all that seriously. Not like they did.”

A stone scuffed beneath his boot and he kicked it along the path, watching it bounce off the ruts in the road.

“I… I was much younger than my sister, so their work always seemed like ‘grown-up stuff’, you know? I felt like an outsider a lot of the time, and even when I was seventeen or eighteen, I would usually go off and drink or show off for the girls or whatever instead.”

As lighting runs ahead of thunder, amusement flared in her golden eyes and Rakasha tipped her head back and laughed heartily this time, and Virion caught sight of a bead in her ponytail that was quite obviously made from an orc’s tusk. He immediately burned to ask her about it, but it felt like an extremely personal question, so he refrained from voicing it.

Instead, he asked, “What’s so funny about that?”

“Did it work?” she said, still chuckling. “Did you impress any of these soft human women into bed?”

“What do you think?” he grinned, encouraged by this more playful side of her.

She shook her head. “I can’t see anyone swooning into your lap, human,” she said, punching him on the arm. “But I’m an orc, so…”

“What’s impressive to an orc then?” he asked, trying not to show that her words had stung more than the punch had. “Rippling muscles and a bellowing war-cry?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said. “But I bet a mouse could fart louder than your war-cry.”

“I don’t even have a war-cry,” he said. “I’m a healer, remember?”

“True,” she hedged. “Maybe you don’t need one.”

They lapsed into silence after that for a bit before he continued his story. The sky above was cloudless and the pale blue of courtly silk, much like it had been that day when he’d walked into the village, heart heavy with dread and found them. The trees became sparser as they walked, and up ahead he could glimpse the sea of shifting grass that was the Whispering Plains and the start of the White Road.

“There… There was a report of plague and they… uh…” he cleared his throat, ignoring the prickling in his eyes. “They went to see what they could do for them.” He didn’t need to articulate what had happened next. “I didn’t hear from them in weeks, and eventually I went to look for them.”

Bodies bloated in the sun, the stench of death that the cloth around his mouth couldn’t mask, the withered remnants of his only family… He closed his eyes briefly, stilling his churning stomach, and then said, “I burned them and promised them I’d do better, that I’d be better.”

Rakasha blinked as he finished his story, looking down at him from her height, and tilted her head slightly. “That’s a terrible fate for anyone to meet,” she said respectfully. “And you risked bringing it on yourself as well to honour them…”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t leave them like that. They were all I had left.”

She nodded and returned her eyes to the road ahead. Something seemed to have shifted between them, like the stirring of a breeze after a week of stagnant calm.

In the two days it took them to cross most of the plains, using the White Road, so called because it had been cut into the chalk downland of the plains to leave a gleaming white ribbon across them. Virion learned something about Rakasha in return. She was the daughter of the chief of a big clan, came somewhere in the middle of eight siblings, and had set off on her own with her clan’s blessing to see a bit more of the world.

“It’s becoming more common,” she said, swatting a fly out of her face as they traipsed along. In the distance, a herd of centaurs looked up, sounding a short blast on a horn at their presence. Rakasha didn’t seem bothered, and the centaurs in these parts were not known for attacking travellers. “Younger orcs are almost taking it as a rite of passage. We’ve come to call it the Wandering.” She scratched at her tapered, pierced ear and shot him a look that was surprisingly self-conscious.

“What have you learned so far then?” he asked. He inferred from something about her manner that she’d found it a bit of a culture shock, but he was curious to see what she’d say.

The centaurs made no move to come any closer, but they were now all watching them now, perhaps half a mile away.

She shrugged. “Not to pick up shiny bits of jewellery in back-ally shops for a start…”

Virion chuckled and said, “Well, it’ll be a tale to tell when you get back to the hold.”

Her face darkened. “I hope this mage can help us,” she said, twisting the band of the ring on her finger.

“Tired of me already?” he quipped. He found he liked the challenge of trying to make her laugh, but the look she gave him this time took him by surprise; it was almost fond, behind the scowl.

“You’re like a stray dog that’s growing on me,” she said.

With an easygoing shrug, he laughed, “I’ll take what I can get.”

The centaurs turned out to be traders, and they exchanged a few objects and coppers for some roasted seeds and nuts, way-bread, and dried fruits to sustain them on the final stretch of the plains. It took a week to cross the plains, and in that time Rakasha opened up to him a bit more. She explained the meaning behind the dotted tattoos on her knuckles and when he dared to ask about the tusk  bead in her hair she smiled and said it was in remembrance for a dear friend she’d lost in one of the raids.

Finally, on a swelteringly hot afternoon, they made their way down through the sun-bleached and -blasted grasses towards the Granta river. A modest, wooden jetty stuck out a few yards into the slow-moving water, half hidden by tall, rustling reeds.

They only had to wait overnight for a river barge going downriver to come by the empty dock, and after bartering with the harpy captain for passage, the two were welcomed aboard. At the stern of the wide, flat river barge was a structure a bit like a shed, built to shelter the travellers and crew from inclement weather, but the rest of the deck was full of cargo boxes, crates, and barrels.

“There’s not much room for you to lodge,” the harpy said, as they stepped aboard, “But we’ll be there in three days and the weather’s set to stay fair.”

“Thank you,” Virion said with a deliberate smile that ruffled her feathers a little.

She scowled at Rakasha though and croaked, “You keep your weapons sheathed and cause no trouble, orc.”

To Virion’s surprise, his companion only bowed her head and strode to the other side of the barge to stare off into the water as it sloshed past.

He joined her briefly and she turned her head a little as she admitted, “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Hope you don’t feel sick,” he grinned. “If you do, I think I have some ginger somewhere in my pack.”

“I’d rather not chew on a tuber that’s been rolling around the bottom of your bag for spirits-only-know-how-long,” she snarled, but there was no venom in her tone now. “It’d probably make me sicker than the water.”

Their fellow travellers were not numerous, it being a cargo barge after all, but a small group of musicians was headed to the university town as well. Virion immediately settled down in their midst that evening after a day of reading one of the books he’d picked up in Sycamore Gap - the town where he’d first met Rakasha. He found himself welcomed by three tieflings, all with different skin colours and horns, and an enormous and extremely friendly firbolg. Rakasha kept very much to herself, but on their first night, when the group pulled out a bodhrán, violin, a small harp, and a flute, and started to sing, she looked up from the crate where she’d been seated for most of the day.

On the second night, the firbolg, named Aeqen, asked her if she’d like to come and have a drink with them, and she nodded gruffly, sitting cross legged on the deck beside the small barrel where Virion been perched.

Glancing down at her, he saw the way the fae-light in the lamps highlighted her cheekbones and glinted on her unadorned tusks. As if feeling the weight of his gaze, she looked up at him, and scowled. He laughed and handed her a beer from one of the tieflings, and she downed half of it in one go.

“Ready to make port tomorrow?” Aeqen asked conversationally, and began to beat a rhythm on the bodhrán in his lap. Liliana, one of the tieflings with freckled blue skin began to trill out a quick tune on her flute and in no time the other two tieflings were dancing.

He nodded. “It’s been a nice change of pace on the water though,” Virion said.

They sat finishing up their beers for a while, but every time Virion looked over at the firbolg, he saw the way the creature’s large eyes lingered on Rakasha as she sat there thoughtfully, her eyes on the dancing tieflings as if she’d never seen anyone dancing before. Assuming it was interest on the firbolg’s part, and that if anyone might have the physique to impress the orc, it would be him, Virion found that the dregs of his bottle tasted bitter, and he set it aside and stood, silently excusing himself and stalking to the back of the barge.

He was still sifting through the roiling emotions when someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned around to see Rakasha standing in the shadows, back lit by the fae-lamps further along the deck. “You alright?” she asked, her already husky voice gruff and quiet.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his back on her. “Just… wanted some air.”

“You want me to go?”

When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer to him, and they both felt the draw of their cursed rings. She put a hand on his lower back and tension ratcheted up his spine, one vertebra at a time.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her touch fluttering slightly.

Virion shook his head and the pressure of her warm palm returned for a moment before disappearing completely.  

“I wish I understood you humans,” she said, chuffing a soft laugh and leaning her forearms on the railings, mirroring his posture.

“Let me know if I can help,” he said. “After all, you are leashed to one…”

She nodded but didn’t go any further.

The water slid by in a river of inky blackness, the reeds whispering at the edges.

Rakasha broke the silence again a few moments later and said, “I wonder if there are merfolk in these parts…”

“Probably,” he said. “They’ll be upstream of a city, for sure. I think I saw one of the alligator folk earlier. Their eyes reflect in the dark a bit like orcs’ do…”

He shot her a sidelong look and found that her golden eyes were indeed flashing in the dark like a predator’s as she stared at him.

“I was wrong about you,” she said quietly.

“Oh?”

“Mmm. Remember when I told you that I was doing my Wandering when I first met you?”

Virion nodded, but didn’t dare move a muscle in case he spooked this new, gentler side of her.

“I’ve not mixed with other species much,” she said.

That much was obvious, but he kept that to himself.

“I… I guess you could say I was - am - pretty naive…”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” he said with false politeness and they both laughed.

After a moment she continued. “I thought humans were… honestly pathetic. Most of you have so little muscle and you’re so damned fragile… but… you’re not, are you?”

“There’s more than one way to be strong,” he murmured, watching the reeds slip by in the dim glow cast by the barge’s lamps. “You want to go and dance?”

She laughed, and perhaps her cheeks darkened a bit, but it was hard to tell in that light. “I think I’ll just watch for now, if that’s alright.”

They returned to the small party, and while Virion sat on his usual barrel, Rakasha decided to lean her body up against it so that her head was almost touching his thigh. He found it hard to get to sleep that night, with thoughts of what her long, dark hair might feel like and what her skin might feel like against his. He thought that he should have been surprised to be thinking like that, to be seeing the orc in a new light, but if he were honest with himself, he’d admired her physically from the beginning. It was only now that he was starting to get to know Rakasha that he found himself fantasising about her a little though.

Grantbridge, the city that cradled the university in its midst, was vast. Rakasha was obviously completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people, the chaos and noise, the bustle, the clatter, the shouting and the smell of it all, but she never flinched or backed down. Perhaps surprisingly, however, she did follow Virion’s lead as they found their way - eventually - to the university, and at last were admitted to the professor’s study.

“Thank you for seeing us at such short notice,” Virion smiled, and the tall woman in a long, white robe grinned at him. Her skin was dark and flawless, and her black eyes glittered with warm intrigue. “I thought we might have to make an appointment and come back another day.”

“When the clerk informed me that we had a case of cursed rings on our hands - oh, please excuse the pun - I couldn’t refuse you, my dears,” she said. “Now, if you’ll let me examine them?” she asked, stretching out her hand, palm up.

Virion cautiously obliged first, and she turned his finger over, examining the markings on the band.

“Oh, yes,” she crooned delightedly. “I’ve heard of such rings! These are incredibly rare. See this inscription?” she said, pointing at the writing that neither of them had been able to read. They both leaned in and then nodded. “It’s in Ancient Telvhen - a precursor to modern High Elvish, which in itself is a very old language. Fascinating. And the dragons - I believe this alludes to a very old story from the Telvheni empire about a prince and a beautiful dragon shifter… Oh, I’d love to hear where you got them from, but that’s a story for afterwards perhaps. Let me translate the inscription for you.”

She slid a pair of half-moon spectacles onto her nose and cleared her throat.

“It is more or less as follows: ‘Each with different heart, together shall they part.’”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Rakasha asked, a heavy scowl weighing down her dark brows.

“Let me see yours, my dear,” the mage asked, not even batting an eyelid at her coarse language, and Rakasha obliged with a wary glance at Virion. He nodded and she gave him the ghost of a reassured smile. “Ah yes, look, the same inscription. And you’ve travelled together from Sycamore Gap to get here? Impressive.”

“Fuck how far we’ve come,” Rakasha snarled. “How can we get them off?”

Bile rose in Virion’s throat, fearing that if the orc continued to insult the mage she would refuse to help them, but the woman only laughed brightly and said, “Have you tried just taking them off?”

“Of course we did, you -” she began, but Virion cut her off with a thwack across her stomach. She turned to look at him, about to snarl something at him for hitting her, but when she saw the look on his face, she cursed in orcish.

“That, my dear,” the mage chuckled, “Is a phrase I will have to remember for the next time I’m in the company of the necromancers from the Chapter at Arlesford…”

Rakasha didn’t even respond as she watched Virion slide the ring easily off his index finger. “How?” he breathed, staring at her with his hazel eyes wide. “We couldn’t… We… They were…” Astounded - and a bit embarrassed - he couldn’t fathom it.

The mage smiled. “‘Each with different heart, together shall they part’” she quoted. “Might I be wrong in suggesting that the two of you have come to see things differently during the course of your journey here?”

At that, Virion and Rakasha exchanged a look. “Well… yeah,” he said, “But…”

“You mean we didn’t have to come all this way here?” she said. “That we could have just taken them off before now?”

“It’s hard to know when the magic left the rings,” the mage replied, turning back to her desk with a twinkle in her eye. “But I believe they have done their purpose…”

“And what purpose is that?” Rakasha asked. Virion noted that she had made no move to take her own ring off, but he thought that perhaps she was still too stunned.

It was Virion who answered. “To bring two people with different views together.”

“It’s a famous past-time amongst the meddling fae,” the mage said as she sat back down at her desk. “I might suggest that if you were to go back to wherever you came across these, you would not find things quite as you left them.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough gold to go back to that place,” Rakasha laughed. “So we’re free of the magic completely now?”

“As far as my not-inconsiderable abilities can tell, there is nothing left in those rings. They are but ordinary bands of silver. Do with them as you please, and go where you will. Though I suspect that if you take them off, you will not find them in your possession for long. These things have a way of finding new owners and new people to help…”

“Interesting way of helping,” Rakasha grumbled.

“Thank you for your time,” Virion said, his voice a little shaky.

“Pleasure,” the mage said. “Though I suppose I should be thanking you for helping delay the inevitable…” she eyed a stack of papers at the corner of her expansive desk and groaned, “First year exam papers…”

“Good luck!” Virion laughed, and they left her to her marking.

Outside the university, in the wide square directly opposite the main building, they stood and watched the stalls and stages going up for the festival which began that very night. Too stunned for conversation, they just stood there like additions to the statuary that lined the walls of the old university. A short while later, in a far corner of the square, they glimpsed the musicians with whom they had travelled downriver, and the giant firbolg even waved at them across the open space.

Rakasha waved back and Virion nodded.

“What now?” the orc asked as the musicians returned their attention to their preparations for the evening. It was the first time either of them had dared address the issue.

Virion shrugged. “I guess we could go our separate ways… no need for you to delay your Wandering by - what did you call it? - ‘babysitting a stray puppy’?”

Rakasha’s cheeks did darken to a beautiful olive green at that, and she kicked at a pebble beneath her feet, sending it skittering under the iron rimmed wheels of a passing waggon. Her fingers twisted the band on her finger as she said, “I think you know I don’t see you that way anymore…”

With a grin, he said, “We could stay here for a bit then?”

She nodded.

The first inn they found charged outrageous prices, so they went a little further back from the market square and found a boarding house run by a drider who was friendlier to non-humans and offered them surprisingly reasonable rates for her one remaining room. A double, as it happened.

“You mind sharing?” Virion asked and she grinned.

“Do you?” she fired back.

The festival was beautiful. Mage-crafted fireworks soared into the sky from the crenellations of the university building, and music played and people danced. There was a play that utterly entranced Rakasha, and after they had sampled from a number of stalls selling food from all over the continent, Virion even managed to coerce Rakasha into dancing with him, the two of them slotting into line at the end of a simple partner dance before it started.

It wasn’t complicated, and he found himself entranced at the way her eyes glittered in the low light and how her tusks glinted as she laughed.

They caught up with the troupe from the barge some while later, but Virion could hardly take his eyes from Rakasha. Her skin gleamed with a slight sheen of sweat from dancing, and she seemed almost a different creature now.

“Here,” Aeqen laughed, putting a flower crown around her head. “Perfect.”

She blushed like a temple virgin and tried not to look at Virion, which only made them all laugh.

Eventually, when they’d had their fill of festival sweets and vigorous dancing, they shared a look that said the same thing, and they left the square, heading through the streets to their little boarding house room. Rakasha took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

“You enjoy tonight?” she asked, and he nodded. The rings clicked softly together as the bands connected briefly in their intertwined hands.

“Yeah. You… uh…” he said awkwardly. “You looked…”

“What?” she laughed, her long hair loose and flowing down her back. She was still wearing the flower crown.

“Honestly… gorgeous…” he finished rather lamely, and she grinned, halting.

They’d paused in a tiny little square with barely enough room for a stone fountain in the space between the houses, but she drew him close and leaned down, tilting his chin up. His jaw bore the scruff of more than a few days without shaving, but she didn't seem to object as she tilted his face up and lowered her own towards him. Her eyes were incredible and he forgot how to breathe as she began to kiss him.

He reached his hands up into her thick, dark hair and gripped her so tightly she growled and drew back.

She quirked a questioning eyebrow and he nodded.

The two of them made their way back to the boarding house without stopping again, though Virion’s dark leggings definitely seemed a size too small.

Inside their room, Rakasha backed him into the door by way of closing it, and ground herself against him. He wasn’t short, but he felt more than a little dwarfed by her size and strength. Exhilarated by that, breathless, dizzy, and thrumming all over, he kissed her back, his hands wandering over her body, desperate for a touch of her skin.

He pushed her back, and she obliged curiously. Virion’s fingers slid under her loose tunic and she shrugged it off, bearing her muscular torso for him. He jutted his chin towards the bed and she backed slowly towards it, coyly undoing the laces at the top of her loose trousers. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and watched her slide the fabric - trousers and undergarments as one - free of her wide hips. Next came the fabric binding around her breasts. The muscles of her abs clenched as he reached for them and with a feather-light touch, he pushed her back onto the bed.

She parted her legs invitingly and he struggled out of his own clothing, abandoning it all on the floor beside the bed.

When he returned his attention to her, her fingers had slid between her legs and she was slowly circling her swollen clit, her golden eyes locked on him. Her other hand had cupped her breast and she pinched her hardening nipple between finger and thumb and he felt his cock twitch and swell.

Her eyes tracked the movement and she jutted her chin, trying to get him to come closer. He obeyed and ran his hand over the clearly-defined muscles of her thighs, watching the way her breath hitched visibly, her back arching at the drag of his fingertips over her dark green skin.

“Rakasha,” he said, voice husky and a little deeper. “Tell me what you want?”

“You,” she snarled. “I want you.”

His hand closed around his cock and he worked himself to full hardness while he watched her teasing herself. She was slick and wet and so inviting that it didn’t take long for him to kneel between her legs and line himself up with her entrance. Her lips parted and her jaw went slack, and he watched her throat work as she swallowed. He wondered what it’d feel like if she did that with his cock in her mouth, and it responded accordingly, twitching and leaking pre-come down onto her clit.

“Hurry up,” she snarled, bending one leg at the knee and shifting her hips invitingly. He didn't need telling twice.

As he slid slowly inside her tight heat, he rested his left hand on her bent leg, stretching her as he entered her, and she let out a deep, guttural moan. Her muscles clenched around him and he fought the urge to come like a virgin inside her already. Breathing deeply, he sank hilt-deep into her and paused.

“You’re so tight,” he gasped, leaning forwards head bowing.

Reaching for him, she grabbed his hair and snarled, “Move…”

Unable to deny her request, he rolled his hips back and forth, breathless at the sensations of her body around his, the slick heat of her. Sounds began to roll out of her as her chest heaved and she played with her breasts. She never took her eyes off his face though. He moved his thumb to her clit and circled in time with each thrust, and he felt her react to his touch immediately.

Her breathing quickened, chest heaving, and she arched and thrashed as he took her closer. White hot pleasure coiled in him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Picking up his speed, he altered his angle a little and caught that place inside her that made her cry out. Her tusks jutted upwards, her hands abandoned her chest and grabbed the sheets as she arched and writhed beneath him.

“Come for me,” she demanded, opening her eyes again, and as her gaze met his, his release ripped through him like a landslide. A second later, she followed him, and the clenching of her muscles around his cock drew out his own pleasure until he was shaky and weak all over. He fell forwards onto his elbows, breathing hard, barely missing her face as he collapsed on top of her.

Her hands found his back and began to trace idle lines over his skin while he panted, heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Playfully, she squeezed her inner muscles around him and he grunted a half-hearted complaint, which only made her laugh.

Eventually he rolled onto his side, grunting softly as he slid free of her, and she followed and tucked his body gently against her side. Her lips landed softly on his sweaty temple and she whispered, “Little human, did I break you?”

He shook his head, unable to form words just yet.

“You sure?”

“Shut up,” he grinned, considering elbowing her in the ribs, and she laughed.

“If someone had told me back at that bazaar that I’d be lying in bed with a human who had just made me come like that,” she said, “I’d have sunk my axe into them… probably…”

“Funny how the world works,” Virion said, his words slurring a little as an immense exhaustion washed through him.

He barely noticed Rakasha slipping free of him and cleaning herself up, only to return and draw the sheets up over them both. She curled up on her side, facing away from him, and he rolled over and nuzzled up against the bulwark of her back, inhaling the scent of her thick hair and the expanse of her soft green skin.

He let his hand play over the dip in her waist for just a moment longer, and then hugged himself a little closer before sleep claimed him and he sank willingly down into it.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier or higher!

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[kelownahq]

Here’s a small list of disabilities and health conditions I think would be interesting to see more of around the RPC, and all of them (and more) will be welcomed here at Kelowna! This is a mere way to spark ideas and I do not wish to see romanticizing or stereotypes based around these conditions or mental illness in general. Make sure you do your research and try and figure out in which ways a disability or health condition would change their everyday life! This post is pinned for easy access and will be updated as I come up with further ideas. 

Bipolar disorder

Learning disabilities 

Dyslexia/Dyscalculia

Development co-ordination disorder/Dyspraxia 

Mute

Deaf/hard of hearing

Blind/limited vision (Mute, Deaf and Blind all work under a spectrum and one may not be fully one thing - as in, a person may be partially blind and could still be able to see outlines and shadows but consider their vision bad enough to simply warrant calling themselves blind.) 

Wheelchair bound/In the need of wheelchair aid (It’s the same here! Some may need a wheelchair 24/7 to get around, others may only need it for longer trips outside of the house etc.) 

The usage of a cane or other aids to move around (They can mix it with having to use a cane for support when they don’t use a wheelchair or other type of aid.)

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (This goes beyond being a compulsive cleaner, aka some might be obsessed with counting their kitchen wares or collecting trash on their way to places - always making them late etc.)

Type 1 or Type 2 Diabetes (One does not need to be overweight to be affected by diabetes! It can either be passed down through biological reasons or due to bad habits.) 

Antisocial Personality Disorder (Usually what people know as sociopaths or psychopaths, but has been changed to APD to remove stigma. They’re not all murderers and bad people and some will grow aware of their own differences to others without APD and thus can get therapy to make sure they don’t harm or manipulate people.)

Autism 

High blood pressure 

Heart conditions 

Rheumatism

Burnout 

Paranoia

Amputee

Dermatitis/Eczema 

Psoriasis

Tourette Syndrome 

[cosmosbv]

Cosmos Market

Hi All

It has been a little over a month since I started this project. 

The first Kickstarter was unsuccessful. I will be setting up a new one next week after I sit down to talk with the investor and after my meeting with the realtor. It took a while, mostly because phones and I are not friends, along with my dyslexia screwing things up, but I got through. 

I am leaving the GoFundMe up and running, because I am going to open a bookstore. I feel one step closer now then last week. 

Goal

I am going to crowdfund to open a small store. It will be a combination of a second hand and indie bookstore, farm market, and artisan crafts store. I already have seven farm market and artisans ready to work out contracts for spacing to sell their wares, more then a thousand used books boxed up and ready to go, plus several boxes of crafts.

Why a bookstore?

Prior to the car accident I wanted to open a bookstore. Then the accident occurred, and that was not an option at the time because of health problems. I didn’t stop collecting books for that purpose, with the thought that someday I would return to that goal in order to open that second hand bookstore like I wanted.

Now I write books to publish and thought: wait, what if instead of just a second hand bookstore, I make it an indie bookstore and secondhand store? Perfect idea! I can sell mine, and other indie authors books.

Why a farm and artisan market?

The idea of the market has two different sources.

The first is when I studied our community and realized there is nowhere besides the farm market to sell handmade crafts that are not paintings. That gave me the idea to combined my bookstore with an artisan craft store.

The second is when I was speaking to a vendor at the farm market, one who makes both artisan crafts and farm market foods. She made a comment about wishing to have somewhere she could rent a space for a reasonable price. that gave me the idea to work with the farm market vendors.

Thus far all but two have committed. Those two stated that they would consider it if I successfully acquire the building. There are still more to be spoken with.

Why both GoFundMe and Kickstarter?

GoFundMe - I am familiar with it, there is no time limit, and goals can be adjusted as needed. Beyond that, the GoFundMe is for individuals who would like to give to the project now, because they don’t know that they will have the money later. All money from it will go towards the goal of opening the store in some form, whether in advertising, product, or bills.

Kickstarter - it is an all or nothing funding. If I hit the goal, I have to open the store. Which if I hit the goal, I will definitely open the store because I will buy my building to do so. Yes, the time is getting close for the first one, perhaps I will change programs or goals.

There was some confusion with an individual earlier about how I would give the money back if the store failed. They didn’t seem to comprehend that is not how Kickstarter works. With Kickstarter, if I hit the goal, and I open the store, I have done as promised, no refund needed. If I hit the goal but don’t open the store, that’s when I have to issue a refund.

What if you are unable to get the building in the image?

That’s when I move on to plans B or C. In other words, that’s when I buy one of the other buildings I have picked out, those that might not be as great for the goal but would work over all.

What makes building one better then two or three?

Location! It’s in a great spot for my needs.

Size, it is three times bigger then building two and four times bigger then building three.

Apartments in the upstairs. That means I can update them sooner then later with any extra money after stocking the store and rent them out. Renting just one of them out would make the buildings monthly mortgage with the amount of money I have planned to put down, renting out both would also pay the electric, gas, and trash removal.

Extra rooms beyond the store that can be rented to artisans who might wish to have a new space or bigger space to work in.

Some of the extra rooms can also be used to host various classes, either by artisans, tutors, or even myself for creative writing.

Three to Five are part of Six: renting out the spaces and offering classes will make it so all the stores profits go into further stock and employees. Insuring that there is plenty to sell and that it continue on.

Then why have plans B and C if A is so good?

Someone else might buy A. In that case it’s a good idea to have a plan B and C. There aren’t a lot of buildings for sale in the area, and I would rather not rent or lease, as I want control over the building, that only happens if I own it.

Plans B and C are also for if the first doesn’t work out for a different reason. For instance, perhaps I have a investor who is willing to back purchasing a smaller building.

Investors

I am reaching out to various angel investors as well. Yet another way to try and fund this. There is a long list of individuals for me to contact who help small businesses get off the ground.

Depending on investors, I may change building plans if one is willing to work with of the smaller ones. Would it be as profitable as the larger building? No. However, I would be able to build up the smaller store, then either try again to get my plan A building if it is still on the market, or find a different bigger building. After all, the real estate market is always changing.

If you would like to be an investor, even a small one such as fifty dollars, please use my Contact Me form. It’s primary purpose is for commissions, but it also covers other questions and communications off this website.

Loans

Why don’t I try getting a business loan? That requires a decent credit score, which I would need a job to get. It is the lack of job due to my disabilities that has caused me to take this route.

Do you have a business plan?

Yes, though it’s hand written because that’s how I roll. Actually, I have several, because I kept redrafting it as I considered new details and points. It evolved!

I keep each to make sure details that are needed are not lost in the rewrites.

Do you have a budget?

Why yes I do! Checked multiple times, to make sure the math isn’t off. It is based on building costs, bills (gas, electric, trash, accounting), employee pay, advertising prices, permits, equipment, and stock.

A basic form of it can be found at the bottom of my first Kickstarter. If you’d like to discuss it, I am open to doing so. I have a projected finances excel, I will be creating a google sheets version as well, and will be updating it as I receive new information.

You have several disabilities, how are you going to do this?

With help. That’s why there is employee pay as part of the costs. I know I physically can’t do it alone, so I will pay someone to help me. I’ve already spoken to that person, we have an agreement set out and a pay schedule.

Why should we back you?

At the end of the day, I can’t tell you what to do, nor would I. What I can tell you is this:

I managed to get my family from 50k in debt to 10k in debt in 4 years (love the parents, they’re not the best at finances, plus there was that entire stroke that just added to the mess of bills) - so I know how to balance a book and raise money.

That does not count the times I asked for help for myself, only the family as whole’s situation. After all, hard to balance my own books with no money coming in during those months I did not have any commissions or ghost writing.

I was trained as a store manager

I have a bachelor’s degree in business administration

I’m a fast study

If you are an indie author, I’ll sell your books. That means I buy several copies to sell, so you automatically get paid, and then if they do well, I buy more copies to sell. 

You’ll be helping a small business get started You get a personalized signed copies of my book, yes they are digital copies but I will still be making the signing for each personal, scanning them in, adding them to the file and sending them off. 

You help a disabled writer stop living with the constant worry of how to pay the bills and when will the next need to ask for help happen. Thus I stop needing to ask for donations every time life goes sideways because I barely have enough to live before that happens.

I am also a firm believer in paying it forward, so once I am no longer stuck in the cycle of I have no money, I am barely paying the bills, and I have to ask for help, I will be able to help others who may need it. 

You’ll get updates on the business, what the current specials are, and even coupons for online purchases from time to time. 

For those who do more then the twenty five dollar pledge, they will get signed copies of more then just my first two books. Every five past twenty-five will get one more book, unless told to stop. Example: If you do fifty dollars, you get the initial two plus five more personalized signature books. 

I have done a lot of research, this isn’t just a whim, it’s not a lark, while most my notes are hand written, they are repeatedly checked as I wish to make sure that I am successful. Once it is open I do not want to have to ask a second time for help with it. 

It’s a New Year, if you are feeling generous, consider helping someone start it differently then years past.

All I can ask is you take a chance. Money is important, as it funds everything. Sharing the GoFundMe is just important as it shows it to new people. All I ask is you take a few moments to share this, or the GoFundMe. I understand however, if you are not willing or able to.

Thank you all for reading this,

Jaimi

1/5/19

[ranuel]

Yes, this is good to raise wareness of one kind of dyslexia but it’s not hte only kind. Reading and writing are not done eith the exact same part of hte brain and someone can hve dificullty getting words on paper witout the same degree of diffucilty reading.

That was really, really hard to type without automatically correcting the words with red squiggles but I wanted to demonstrate what I experience and to see the difference between what originally comes out when I write and the rest of this post which is the end result of using spellcheck and re-reading what I’ve written 4 or 5 times to catch all the errors. Or at least as many as I can.

I have an above average IQ and a college degree but that sort of thing up there had me flunking spelling in grade school. It cost me points on written work and brought all my grades down in school. Thank God we now have spell check and being able to stick the words I misspell so bad spell check can’t figure them out into Google is amazing.

I went for years without being diagnosed and endured outright bullying from some of my teachers because they all were trained that dyslexia means you can’t read because all the letters look scrambled, or backwards, or even upside down. It’s mixing up your Ds and Ps. If I’m tired or stressed I get a little bit of scramble when reading but nothing like OP experiences.

I was reading above grade level from the time I started school but getting Ds and Fs in spelling so obviously I was just goofing off. It was obvious to them I wasn’t studying or I was spelling the words wrong on purpose to be bad.

Our grades came out every six weeks and one grading period my mother made me sit in the kitchen while she made dinner every night and drilled me in spelling and I managed to pull my grade up from an F to a very low C but I was often in tears and the real lesson I learned was that I was bad and wrong and if I only tried hard enough I could learn how to do this and the fact that I couldn’t meant I just wasn’t trying hard enough or else I was just that stupid. I was reading at college level by 6th grade (probably because of working so hard at spelling really) but still getting low grades in spelling and yet nobody figured out there had to be a problem somewhere beyond me being “difficult”. There’s a post that goes around that demonstrates that as long as the first and last letters and the word length is right then most people can read a sentence where most of the other letters are scrambled. We actually read using the shape of the word and the context once we learn it. It was really hard to learn to read some words but most of the time I could understand the sentence anyway and I was scoring in the 98th percentile on standardized tests for reading comprehension. No way was I dyslexic, right? 

Then one day in college my Developmental Psychology professor did a lecture on processing disorders like dyslexia and dyscalculia and the different ways they can represent and I sat there not daring to believe I was understanding what she was saying. Dyslexia WASN’T just seeing mixed up letters or backwards Rs? Maybe I wasn’t just a screw up? After class I asked her a few questions and then went home and cried. When I went to visit my parents that weekend and excitedly told my mother I finally knew what was wrong she dismissed it. Of COURSE I wasn’t dyslexic. Don’t be silly, people with dyslexia can’t read. They write letters backwards. I wasn’t dyslexic  I was just sloppy when I wrote things.

The sad thing is, my mother? She was a middle school English teacher. Not only could she not accept my disability but who knows how many kids went through her class without being diagnosed.

The very long point of this is there is no one size fits all when it comes to learning disabilities. If you are trying your best and struggling then you aren’t being lazy or stupid any more than someone who is near sighted is lazy for not being able to read a blackboard without their glasses even though they can read a book if it’s held up close.

If you know a kid who is struggling please don’t assume they are acting out even if they don’t fit what you think someone with a learning disability looks like. Even if the issue isn’t dyslexia there is likely some kind of issue going on and only someone trained in diagnosing learning disabilities can make that call.

Sorry this got so long but I’m not putting it behind a cut because this is important.

This is what it’s like to have dyslexia. Web developer Victor Widell is hoping to shine a light on the learning disorder with this creative coding simulation.

[mywritingnarwhal]

I see a lot of grammar mistakes these days...

It's understandable if you have dyslexia or if English isn't your first language. If this describes you, than feel free to use this small guide, but don't feel affronted because this is mostly targeted at the people who CAN get it right, but choose not to try hard enough.

Now, everyone makes grammar mistakes, even purists like me, but if you notice that you might be using the wrong word or case, but you choose not to check, that is lazy and has no excuse. Of course, some people have trouble with remembering these sorts of things, so I have devised a little guide on how not to screw up the English language. (Also, I'm not an English teacher or in any position of authority over the English language. If I have made an error in this list, please point it out to me.)

Their, there and they're. This is arguably the most common mistake. Using the wrong spelling of this word. Let me break it down for you:

Their is possessive. You say, 'That is THEIR car.' Or, 'When can I see THEIR puppy?' Simple enough.

They're is a contraction. It is simply a shirtened version of 'They Are'. If you could change the word 'they're' into 'they are', then you need to use the contraction version.

There is used for just about any other case where the other two are not. It is normally used to point something out; 'THERE it is' or, 'Look over THERE.' Basically, the three theres seem hard, but they just take some time to get used to.

Who, whose and whom. This is easier than you have been led to believe. Here's an easy trick I've discovered. (I am using he, him and his because they are closer to the sounds of who, whom and whose, not because I'm against women or something)

Who=He. Example: who did that? He did that.

Whom=Him. Example: you know whom? You know him.

Whose=his. Example: it is whose? It is his.

See? Easy as pie. (Nobody will get mad if you don't use whom, but if you did want to use it, here's how.)

To and too. Okay, this one is simple as well. All you need to know is the uses for 'too' and then use to for everything else.

Too can be used in the place of 'also'. For example: 'I also like that band.' 'I like that band too.' See? It can also be used in cases to show an excessive amount. Example: 'I ate too much.' Or 'There are never too many puppies.' Use too in these cases and to for anything else. (Except for two, the number, but I assumed you got that.)

Your and you're. You're is a contraction. If you can split it into 'you are' and the sentence still makes sense, then use you're. End of discussion.

Me or I. This is corrected less, but is still used incorrectly. Here is an example of an incorrect sentence: 'John and me went to the store.' Wrong! Why? Take away John for a sec. 'Me went to the store.' See? You sound like cookie monster. The correct use is, 'John and I went to the store.' This also works in reverse. 'Don't insult my siblings and I.' Take away siblings and, 'Don't insult I!' Complete gibberish. Thankfully, this is easy to check. Just take away the part that isn't a pronoun. It shall become clear.

Xe or xir. Same thing as above. 'John and him went to the store.' Wrong. 'John and he went go the store.' Right. Enough said.

Where, were, ware and wear.

Wear is a verb. Example, 'I'm wearing a skirt.' Or 'It's really wearing me out.' That is the only time to use that.

Ware is a noun. It means "manufactured articals of a specified type." Example: Silverware. Warehouse. Sell these wares. Only a noun.

Where is asking a question. 'Where is it.' This is the only time to use that.

Were. This isn't pronounced like the others. It sounds like Wurr. Despite this it is often used instead of the other words I have listed. Don't. It has It's own use. Thank you. (This is only pronounced ware in the word werewolf. Don't know why. Monster names are a language if their own.)

Then and Than. These are not interchangeable. In fact they are even pronounced with slight differences. Here's how they are used:

Then is used to show order. Example: 'I ate my snack, then I went outside.'

Than is used to compare. Example: 'Snakes are better than lizards.' You are comparing the two, so you use than.

Congradulations! Now you have no excuse to misuse grammar! It might be wise to save this list or write down the words that you personally struggle with. I'm not trying to be mean or call anyone out, I just noticed that a lot of people struggle with this so I decided to put my own knowledge to use. If you can think of any grammar mistakes I missed, please feel free to add to this post. Again, this is not meant to be mean, it is just to help people learn. Thanks for reading, and may the grammar Nazis never come to your door.

[starsgivemehp]

Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus crossover!!

Because I’m always a slut for crossovers!

Red: Son of Nemesis, the Greek goddess of balance, justice, and revenge. He has a strong moral compass that he sticks to, and he’s snippy or nasty to those he deems to be too full of themselves. He holds grudges. Standard demigod abilities (strength, speed, good healing, ADHD/battle reflexes, dyslexia). Without a specific specialty related to his godly parent, he spends his time mostly at the forge with the children of Hephaestus.

Vex: Son of Nike (they are half-brothers), the Greek goddess of victory. A desire to do right by his godly mother and impress her has led him to place himself in a vigorous, structured routine to hone his skills. He’s a self-made perfectionist. Generally, whichever team he decides to be on for capture the flag will win.

- - -

Arum: Son of Vulcan, the Roman god of fire, volcanoes, and metallurgy (counterpart to Hephaestus). He was a part of the second cohort and was centurion for a short time, until a terrible head injury in battle forced him to retire from that position. Given that he still must complete the standard 10 years to become an official citizen of New Rome, he ‘serves’ the legion by crafting weapons but not fighting.

Tox: Son of Mars, the Roman god of war and military (counterpart to Ares). They are half-brothers. When Arum had to resign from being centurion, Tox took his place. He is known for being granted the Blessing of Mars (temporary invulnerability and no feeling of pain) multiple times due to his leadership and fighting skills. He plans to serve well beyond the required 10 years.

- - -

Legall: Son of Zeus, the Greek god of the sky and thunder. Not only is he constantly in danger due to being a child of the Big Three, he was cursed to live a challenging life inevitably ending in horrible tragedy, by a furious and jealous Hera. He’s better at flying and using windy powers than calling on lightning, and he is very anxious to please his father and live up to his expectations.

Prise: Son of Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic and crossroads. She, upon hearing how melancholy Zeus was about the fate of his newly conceived child, used magic to create a twin within their mother, this one of her heritage, in the hopes that the second child might ease the burden of the first. He is skilled with magic and the Mist, and he has mild prophetic abilities, though not as strong as children of Apollo.

- - -

Howl: Son of Pluto, the Roman god of the dead, the earth, and riches (counterpart to Hades). His very esteemed ‘father,’ the husband of his mother, got them both into the first cohort shortly before dying a mysterious death. He excels in cryokinesis, one of the less common powers of such children, and osteokinesis, which is typical, but he struggles with umbrakinesis and geokinesis . Though he doesn’t explicitly use ferrokinesis, he has a knack for making sure New Rome is constantly wealthy. He is now praetor.

Daemon: Son of Pluto, the Roman god of the dead, the earth, and riches (counterpart to Hades). He is known for the rumors that he was so wild and aggressive when reaching the Wolf House that Lupa herself was uneasy about him. He mellowed when his brother stepped up, but remains one of the best fighters in the legion. After politely handing his proffered centurion position to Howl, he waited patiently for Howl to become praetor, and only then accepted the role of centurion. He has a knack for summoning the dead, and fares better with pyrokinesis than cryokinesis.

- - -

Chaos: Daughter of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, beauty, and pleasure. She is extremely talented at Charmspeak. Her warrior father insured that she was far better at combat than her half-siblings, but she was still always charming and vain enough to get along with them. When Harmony died she went mad. She bathed in the River Styx with her newfound hatred for the gods as her tether - her achilles heel is her right capitate, which is always covered by Harmony’s scarf. She is now a serial demigod killer.

Harmony: Daughter of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, beauty, and pleasure. They are not twins, as Aphrodite was apparently so impressed with their father that she visited more than once. She, unlike her sister, had no Charmspeak abilities and no interest in love or fashion. She devoted herself to noble causes like her father and was excellent in combat. Not long after joining camp, she met the Hunters of Artemis and gladly joined them. She was killed in battle several years later (the only way a Hunter of Artemis can die).

- - -

Vega: Son of Iris, goddess of the rainbow and messenger of the gods beside Hermes. He attracts little to no monsters, so he only attends camp for social purposes and doesn’t train much. He’s semi-kinda-sorta interested in helping his godly mother sell her wares, having more than once offered to someone a  “gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulation” and shrugged when they claimed it to be a Ding Dong. His only photokinesis ability is temporarily turning invisible, and he is very fast. He has excellent communication skills and has a heightened sense of empathy. He has number -> color synaesthesia mixed with spacial sequence, to the effect that every ten numbers, the color changes. He also has voice -> color synaesthesia, a narrowed version of chromesthesia that only crops up from voices and not other sounds. The tone and volume of the voice influences the color.

[mybeniciafernandes]

Proposal

My area of interest for my final major project is based on Dyslexia. I particularly chose to make this my topic of interest because I may still have some trace of Dyslexia in me and I feel going through it personally gives people a different aspects and understanding to Dyslexia than trying to describe dyslexia from people who don’t or aren’t going through it. For instance, there may be educational psychologists, Neurologists and other medical professionals who have a sense of what a dyslexic person is going through. However, as a Dyslexic person i believe they don’t know for sure what Dyslexia is and how a Dyslexic mind works.

Personally, I feel going through Dyslexia is actually quite fun because your brain becomes creatively more active. Therefore, everything you see, you find a creative solution to it.

However, to this day and age there isn’t much awareness made around it. Like people who go through it are sort of hidden under a rock and in some regions of the word having Dyslexia means you are a dumb. Only people who are Smart in education get to shine the most. There isn’t really much help and we don’t really get to creatively express ourselves either.

Also, growing up with this learning disability I felt really shy to tell people i had it and that I used to get extra classes to help me through the disability and help me through my studies. I felt extremely self continues to tell people about my learning disability because I felt people would judge me and call me out for having it.

What is Dyslexia?

Dyslexia is a form of learning disability. People affected by it process words and numbers slower than people who can process words and numbers. Having Dyslexia means that the child may find it harder to progress in the educational future and therefore need further aid to help them. You can easily find out a person maybe suffering with Dyslexia from a young age when you notice they are not progressing with the kids the same age.

According to research one in 10 people are affected by Dyslexia which can range from minor to major and is a lifelong disability. So, imagine every 1 in 10 people from 7.7 Billion people from this earth. Therefore, Dyslexia isn’t really uncommon. It is very common.

What is my aim for my final major project?

For my final major project, I really want to show off my creative skills since I am a dyslexia suffer. I want to be able to make boring text or things I used to or still find challenging into pieces of art. I did and still do, find creative solutions to texts when I go out of focus. Majority of the times if I’m really stuck, I end up doodling patterns. Curly and swirly patterns that I would draw at the end of the book or in the margins.

Other outcomes that I would like to consider would be something 3D. Something you can feel and view from every angle because I believe having a creative mind as a dyslexic person there isn’t really a right or wrong answer it should be about however you perceive things.  

Biography

1.     Dyslexia-and-literacy.international. (2016). The Problem | Dyslexia and Literacy International. [online] Available at: https://www.dyslexia-and-literacy.international/the-problem/?doing_wp_cron=1577739270.2645099163055419921875.

2.     Tabassum, M. and Manju Kumari (2016). Dyslexia: A learning disability in the Indian context. Taylor & Francis, [online] pp.187–198. Available at: https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/e/9781315562414/chapters/10.4324/9781315562414-23

3.     Rosen, P. (2019). Dyslexia and Anxiety: What You Need to Know. [online] Understood.org. Available at: https://www.understood.org/en/learning-thinking-differences/child-learning-disabilities/dyslexia/dyslexia-and-anxiety-in-children

4.     NHS Choices (2019). Overview - Dyslexia. [online] Available at: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/Dyslexia/.

5.     ‌Kidshealth.org. (2018). Understanding Dyslexia (for Teens) - KidsHealth. [online] Available at: https://kidshealth.org/en/teens/dyslexia.html.

6.     View all posts by faithhartin (2017). Explanation Kills Art. [online] Faith Hartin. Available at: https://faithhartin.wordpress.com/2017/09/19/explanation-kills-art/

7.     Nordqvist, C. (2010). What you need to know about dyslexia. [online] Medical News Today. Available at: https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/186787.php.

8.     Newstatesman.com. (2018). “Forgotten children”: Our education system is excluding, and failing, more pupils. [online] Available at: https://www.newstatesman.com/politics/education/2018/07/forgotten-children-our-education-system-excluding-and-failing-more-pupils

9.     Akshat Rathi and Ware, G. (2014). Education equality gap failing immigrants and poor students. [online] The Conversation. Available at: http://theconversation.com/education-equality-gap-failing-immigrants-and-poor-students-22549

10.  Bbc.co.uk. (2014). BBC - Movies - review - Taare Zameen Par (Little Stars on Earth). [online] Available at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/films/2007/12/17/taare_zameen_par_2007_review.shtml

[vandroid-helsing]

Best of 2023

As always: a list of things new to me that I enjoyed this year, regardless of how old they are.

BOOKS & COMICS

Blood Meridian, or, The Evening Redness in the West, Cormac McCarthy 

Death in Spring, Mercè Rodoreda

Ducks, Kate Beaton 

The Echo Wife, Sarah Gailey 

Fugitive Atlas, Khaled Mattawa

Grass, Sheri S. Tepper

The Honourable Schoolboy, John le Carré

Inferno, Dante by way of Daniel Lavery

The Killing Grounds, Joan Tierney

The Last Dragoners of Bowbazar, Indra Das

Leech, Hiron Ennes

The Looking Glass War, John le Carré 

The Saint of Bright Doors, Vajra Chandrasekhera

Shahnameh, Abolqasem Ferdowsi

The Spear Cuts Through Water, Simon Jimenez

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, John le Carré 

Thieves, Lucie Bryon

Time Is A Mother, Ocean Vuong

Un-American, Hafizah Geter

MOVIES/TV

Amadeus, Milos Forman

The Birdcage, Mike Nichols

Blue Velvet, David Lynch

The Exorcist, William Friedkin

Hair, Milos Forman

The Harder They Fall, Jeymes Samuel

Middleditch & Schwartz

Sap, Mae Martin 

Bill Cunningham: New York, Richard Press 

Trigun

MUSIC

50 Words for Snow, Kate Bush

Alcina, George Frideric Handel

Antar, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov 

Bayti al-Fitr, A-WA

Ben Haana Wa Maana, DAM

Benhayyi al-Baghbaghan, Maurice Louca

Brahms

Heaven to a Tortured Mind, Yves Tumor 

Hit Parade and Róisin Machine, Róisín Murphy 

In These Times, Makaya McCraven

Javelin, Sufjan Stevens

La Traviata, Verdi

Lekhfa, Maryam Saleh, Maurice Louca & Tamer Abu Ghazaleh

The Loveliest Time, Carly Rae Jepsen

“Nautilus,” Anna Meredith

N3rdistan, N3rdistan

Postcolonialism and Dyslexia, Emsallam

Symphony No. 1, Jean Sibelius 

Symphony No. 3, Louise Farrenc 

Symphony No. 4, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky 

That! Feels Good!, Jessie Ware 

MISC

Kottu 

The Stopgap

Book announcement 

Turns out it feels pretty good to announce a book!

The By the Bywater live show

Meeting internet friends irl

Uta Hagen’s acting class

[atravelingcrescendo]

Discover How Grammar Checkers May Help With Dyslexia

Syntax Checkers include many features and are completely user-friendly; they're primarily built to establish the most typical grammatical problems in a text. They could discover thousands of popular grammatical problems, syntax problems, misconstrued words, idioms, subject-verb incongruity, misuses on most generally used words like its and it's, your and you're, etc. Many of them even have integral classes for grammar german grammar and spell check online free, preposition, noun, verbs, posts, and conversion of sentences like from active to passive, Primary to Indirect, etc. ergo allowing an individual to understand and use correct grammar. That delicate ware's also have characteristics like Cause Always check and Thesaurus. Additional features might include the provisioning of statistics tool calculating word and sentence counts in addition to normal word and word length. Grammar Checker assists consumer in a number of ways to enhance their writing skills and allow them in constructing professional phrases with small odds of errors. But still one must not be relying on these resources an excessive amount of since such applications could be exact to a certain stage, however not always. Indeed these tools can't be as intelligent as humans. Sometimes the instrument may overlook certain conditions since the provisioned functionality relies on collection rules. Like, an instrument may comprehend a particular word as a noun, even if when it is used as a verb. Likewise some of the application comprehend it improper whenever a preposition can be used to change a verb as opposed to as a connecting word. In short, one can be gained from Grammar pc software and indeed may learn too much to enhance his/her writing abilities, but to depend totally on such application is totally perhaps not recommended. Correct syntax checker is more complex. While a computer development language features a really specific syntax and grammar, this isn't therefore for organic languages. Although it is possible to create a relatively complete formal grammar for a natural language, there are usually so many conditions in true usage a formal syntax is of small help. Among the most crucial elements of a natural language is a dictionary of all phrases which constitute the language, alongside elements of speech. The truth that normal words may transform in to different areas of presentation greatly escalates the complexity of any grammar checker. All-in-one British publishing and modifying pc software, like Grammar Pc software, is the right room of instruments for each British writer or proofreader. Aside from your overall degree of competence or expertise, these instruments exist for the good. Benefit that advanced Grammar software will provide you is to guide and coach you on the skills you will need to understand English publishing, alongside specification of suitable synonyms to spice up your write-ups.

[g-a-b77-blog]

The Computer Analogy

By Dr. Kyre Adept, Director of ART of Integration Computers are made in the image of people, just as people are made in the image of God. Every creation is, in some respects, a self-portrait of its creator. So although we are not limited to the mechanical functions of computers, we work in similar ways. Of course, we humans are also our own programmers, as well as being the data, hardware and software that runs those programs. The three main components of a computer are hardware, software and information or data. Let's start with hardware... the components that make up the physical equipment: oThe hard drive is your bio-magnetic field, or the area of charged particles around the body. All your information is in the field, stored in digital form on rings that are read by light. oThe CPU is your brain. An astonishing range of problems are caused by glitches in the brain chemistry. For instance, dyslexia arises when communication is unable to cross the mid-line (top to bottom, side to side, or front to back). Each quadrant of the brain deals with different types of processing; when those are repaired or re-stored, many other physical disorders can also be rectified. oWiring has several equivalents in the human body: it's the nervous system, plus the meridians and a couple of other systems. The most significant type of wiring is the connection between the brain and the body, which operates on both physical and non-physical levels. oYour mouse, keyboard and other input devices correlate to the eyes, ears, and other senses, because those are what convey external information to the internal processors (CPU) and information storage devices (like the hard drive). oAn optional component is a printer, which creates physical output from the internal processes in your computer. In your human energy system, your output is your physical LIFE! So... just as with an electronic computer, information is scooped up and filtered through the CPU before being deposited in the hard drive, or field. From there, it is retrieved, sifted, manipulated using programs, and stored again - or sent to the printer or other output device. All of these components must be compatible; a PC mouse or keyboard won't work with a Mac computer, or vice versa. They cannot recognize each other or work together. The same thing happens when your components have glitches - they cannot do their work properly, separately or as a system. We looked at hardware, so now let's look at software, or the automated patterns we use to manipulate data and create output. oSoftware is the interface between hardware and output. Any computer program is an ordered series of steps in a programming language or code. These steps must be compiled in the precise order required for the program to work. In the human system, the equivalent of software is our thoughts, feelings, beliefs and desires - all the automatic patterns by which we find ourselves acting. oSystem architecture is the layout of the logic circuits, and it determines what kind of operating system will work in the overall system. oAn operating system provides the overall framework that allows the software to connect with the hardware and the operator. Examples of an operating system are Windows, OS/X for Mac, and Unix. Programs generally work in only one operating system at a time. Your operating system is your Immortal Soul. oFormatting is the exact way information must be aligned for a given program to act correctly. The data must be in the right kind of file or else the program can't read it. Other people's files tend not to be correctly formatted for your inner computers. oEvery program is susceptible to internal glitches and external attacks such as computer viruses. When you pick up a computer virus, there are three possible outcomes: you run a program that you don't want, or you use a lot of system re-sources getting past the incorrect programming, or your computer crashes. When you attempt to run other people's programs or automatic patterns that do not suit your operating system or some other aspect of your inner computers: eventually your whole system will crash, leading to exhaustion, illness or even death. Thus, as with electronic computers, software compatibility is just as important as hard-ware compatibility. Unless the operating system matches the system architecture... and the computer programs match the operating system... and the data is in files that match the computer programs... and the data is stored correctly in the hard drive... well, you get the picture! Even if all the parts are compatible, any or all of them can fall prey to both internal and external problems ranging from misunderstandings to deliberate attacks and general epidemics. And of course the results in your human bio-computers are about what you would expect: unreliability, brain fog, loss of memory, physical ailments, exhaustion, and all manner of other negative conditions. We looked at hardware and software, so now let's look at information or data in the human computers. Every computer needs information to work on, otherwise there is nothing to apply those programs to, right? So what creates or loads information in your system? The basis of all your data starts with sensory impressions. Every day, your eyes, ears, taste buds, nose and skin perceive gazillions of impressions, and they are ALL stored in your bio-magnetic field or hard drive. These impressions are filtered by your thoughts, feelings and beliefs, and only the significant one make it into consciousness... but they are all there somewhere, and they form the basis of your Akashic records. The Get Social with Cloud Ninjas Akashic records 'ripen' and form the basis of your next 'lifetime' - and in every physical incarna-tion you have dozens of lifetimes. But that's another story... No matter what you know or remember consciously, everything that has ever happened to you is stored somewhere in your hard drive, plus everything you've ever thought, felt, believed, or done. This information exists forever as files in your hard drive - unless you change, clear or delete them. Your system cannot tell the difference between what actually happened, your memories, interpretations, or what you imagine. Thus we can shift and reorganize those files to allow or create what we actually want, rather than running or recycling earlier traumas. Your field is your memory. Left to their own devices, your inner files will run themselves from time to time and recreate earlier situations, both positive and negative. The more negative files you have, the more they will attract or create similar results. This is why some people have multiple accidents, or have the same relationship over and over again, just with different people. Their files keep them at that lower resonance. (Of course, there are other reasons bad things happen, too, but this attracts them.) From time to time you need to clean up your desktop or laptop computer, and the same is true for your inner bio-computers. You are constantly creating from your hard drive, for good or for ill, because whatever's in there is attracting similar results. So if you want to have a great life, start filling up your database with what you want to create: your happy life with great relationships, opulence and vibrant health. There's a lot to be said for reading a couple of verses of inspirational writing every day, just to fill your database with higher frequencies based on faith, hope, charity, higher love, patience and faith. Whatever's in your files will come out in your life. That's what Geotran human programming is for: to change your files, wiring, software, and all the rest. Once everything is compatible once more, you can start creating from a positive, conscious database... whatever that looks like to you! Author's Bio: Dr. Kyre Adept is a certified Geotran(TM) human programmer and integration coach. Her practice ART of Integration is based in Santa Barbara, and she works with clients all over the world via phone and skype. Ready to create your rich, delicious life? For details and your FREE consultation, contact Dr. Kyre at www.ART-of-Integration.com, or by email at DrKyre@DrKyre.com. http://www.selfgrowth.com/print/4081376

[sophiethelhasa-blog]

The Computer Analogy

By Dr. Kyre Adept, Director of ART of Integration Computers are made in the image of people, just as people are made in the image of God. Every creation is, in some respects, a self-portrait of its creator. So although we are not limited to the mechanical functions of computers, we work in similar ways. Of course, we humans are also our own programmers, as well as being the data, hardware and software that runs those programs. The three main components of a computer are hardware, software and information or data. Let's start with hardware... the components that make up the physical equipment: oThe hard drive is your bio-magnetic field, or the area of charged particles around the body. All your information is in the field, stored in digital form on rings that are read by light. oThe CPU is your brain. An astonishing range of problems are caused by glitches in the brain chemistry. For instance, dyslexia arises when communication is unable to cross the mid-line (top to bottom, side to side, or front to back). Each quadrant of the brain deals with different types of processing; when those are repaired or re-stored, many other physical disorders can also be rectified. oWiring has several equivalents in the human body: it's the nervous system, plus the meridians and a couple of other systems. The most significant type of wiring is the connection between the brain and the body, which operates on both physical and non-physical levels. oYour mouse, keyboard and other input devices correlate to the eyes, ears, and other senses, because those are what convey external information to the internal processors (CPU) and information storage devices (like the hard drive). oAn optional component is a printer, which creates physical output from the internal processes in your computer. In your human energy system, your output is your physical LIFE! So... just as with an electronic computer, information is scooped up and filtered through the CPU before being deposited in the hard drive, or field. From there, it is retrieved, sifted, manipulated using programs, and stored again - or sent to the printer or other output device. All of these components must be compatible; a PC mouse or keyboard won't work with a Mac computer, or vice versa. They cannot recognize each other or work together. The same thing happens when your components have glitches - they cannot do their work properly, separately or as a system. We looked at hardware, so now let's look at software, or the automated patterns we use to manipulate data and create output. oSoftware is the interface between hardware and output. Any computer program is an ordered series of steps in a programming language or code. These steps must be compiled in the precise order required for the program to work. In the human system, the equivalent of software is our thoughts, feelings, beliefs and desires - all the automatic patterns by which we find ourselves acting. oSystem architecture is the layout of the logic circuits, and it determines what kind of operating system will work in the overall system. oAn operating system provides the overall framework that allows the software to connect with the hardware and the operator. Examples of an operating system are Windows, OS/X for Mac, and Unix. Programs generally work in only one operating system at a time. Your operating system is your Immortal Soul. oFormatting is the exact way information must be aligned for a given program to act correctly. The data must be in the right kind of file or else the program can't read it. Other people's files tend not to be correctly formatted for your inner computers. oEvery program is susceptible to internal glitches and external attacks such as computer viruses. When you pick up a computer virus, there are three possible outcomes: you run a program that you don't want, or you use a lot of system re-sources getting past the incorrect programming, or your computer crashes. When Cloud Ninjas you attempt to run other people's programs or automatic patterns that do not suit your operating system or some other aspect of your inner computers: eventually your whole system will crash, leading to exhaustion, illness or even death. Thus, as with electronic computers, software compatibility is just as important as hard-ware compatibility. Unless the operating system matches the system architecture... and the computer programs match the operating system... and the data is in files that match the computer programs... and the data is stored correctly in the hard drive... well, you get the picture! Even if all the parts are compatible, any or all of them can fall prey to both internal and external problems ranging from misunderstandings to deliberate attacks and general epidemics. And of course the results in your human bio-computers are about what you would expect: unreliability, brain fog, loss of memory, physical ailments, exhaustion, and all manner of other negative conditions. We looked at hardware and software, so now let's look at information or data in the human computers. Every computer needs information to work on, otherwise there is nothing to apply those programs to, right? So what creates or loads information in your system? The basis of all your data starts with sensory impressions. Every day, your eyes, ears, taste buds, nose and skin perceive gazillions of impressions, and they are ALL stored in your bio-magnetic field or hard drive. These impressions are filtered by your thoughts, feelings and beliefs, and only the significant one make it into consciousness... but they are all there somewhere, and they form the basis of your Akashic records. The Akashic records 'ripen' and form the basis of your next 'lifetime' - and in every physical incarna-tion you have dozens of lifetimes. But that's another story... No matter what you know or remember consciously, everything that has ever happened to you is stored somewhere in your hard drive, plus everything you've ever thought, felt, believed, or done. This information exists forever as files in your hard drive - unless you change, clear or delete them. Your system cannot tell the difference between what actually happened, your memories, interpretations, or what you imagine. Thus we can shift and reorganize those files to allow or create what we actually want, rather than running or recycling earlier traumas. Your field is your memory. Left to their own devices, your inner files will run themselves from time to time and recreate earlier situations, both positive and negative. The more negative files you have, the more they will attract or create similar results. This is why some people have multiple accidents, or have the same relationship over and over again, just with different people. Their files keep them at that lower resonance. (Of course, there are other reasons bad things happen, too, but this attracts them.) From time to time you need to clean up your desktop or laptop computer, and the same is true for your inner bio-computers. You are constantly creating from your hard drive, for good or for ill, because whatever's in there is attracting similar results. So if you want to have a great life, start filling up your database with what you want to create: your happy life with great relationships, opulence and vibrant health. There's a lot to be said for reading a couple of verses of inspirational writing every day, just to fill your database with higher frequencies based on faith, hope, charity, higher love, patience and faith. Whatever's in your files will come out in your life. That's what Geotran human programming is for: to change your files, wiring, software, and all the rest. Once everything is compatible once more, you can start creating from a positive, conscious database... whatever that looks like to you! Author's Bio: Dr. Kyre Adept is a certified Geotran(TM) human programmer and integration coach. Her practice ART of Integration is based in Santa Barbara, and she works with clients all over the world via phone and skype. Ready to create your rich, delicious life? For details and your FREE consultation, contact Dr. Kyre at www.ART-of-Integration.com, or by email at DrKyre@DrKyre.com. http://www.selfgrowth.com/print/4081376