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thatonealise · 3 years ago

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On Worlds.

We inhabit them. We've christened ours Earth, but there are some who call Middle-Earth their home. I've heard many dashing tales from the Borderlands, and on all too many occasions guested in Azeroth. All these faraway lands are unique in their own right, sporting flora and fauna so diverse it really does make one wonder how such things came to be, whether out of nothing, or out of the wilds of human imagination.

I've always been under the impression that it would take a person too much blood, sweat and tears to fashion one. But here I stand, alone, and I need a place to set my latest overambitious and never-ending enterprise. It's a habit I'd always detested deep down, but came to respect over time, and now I say it is the prospect of making something grand, chipping away at it day and again, that gives me one more reason (among many, mind you) to get up early in the morning, and wonder what aspect of it am I going to work on next.

So it is, that I've been pondering on the sort of a world I would want you, the Player, to quench your wanderlust, and perhaps take your subconscious somewhere it has never travelled.

My research -- that hunt for inspiration, artistically speaking -- took me to media I have and have never ever witnessed, or heard, or read, or seen. I've browsed art, played this game and that; I've watched film and series, and I've brushed the dust off some of my forlorn literature. I've even dared to show up in the local library for once in an embarrassingly long (by a reader's standards) while, and borrow a "manuscript" or two I thought had a few interesting ideas. But, I have to admit, Stack Exchange remains my personal favourite. There are so many great minds there, with an equal knack for world-building, and even more thought-provoking questions granted inspiring answers. I can't recommend it enough.

On to the point, though, and it is that I've compiled a list of "archetypes" to take into consideration building my own world:

Earth-likes

What a surprise, huh? I believe it to be the most widespread archetype, and it is rather self-explanatory. An Earth-like world is more often than not a carbon copy of the blue planet (or our rather milky galaxy), with oceans and continents shuffled a notch to dodge the cosmic copyright, so to speak. It is again most common, and for a good reason: we know plenty about the science that keeps such worlds (and, by extension, our own) spinning, and the life living the way it does. It is a solid point of reference, backed with facts and studies so easy to look up on the web, or anywhere bookish, and it is always oh so tempting to use.

A few notorious examples taken from modern authors include...

...a continent under the influence of Celtic and Germanic myths; known as Middle-Earth of J. R. R. Tolkien.

...the super-continent of Stillness by Nora K. Jemisin.

...the Present World, to some extent a mirror of ours, and found in Kentaro Miura's Berserk.

...or the unforgiving deserts of Arrakis, credited to Frank Herbert.

...or Faerun, the iconic setting of Forgotten Realms.

...or even the Journey, courtesy of thatgamecompany, and the dunes one has to slide down rushing to the mountain's peak.

If at least two of the above ring a bell, you may have an idea of what brings all these worlds together, and by extension, what I think constitutes an Earth-like world. If not, then let me illustrate my point instead:

Go on, draw a comparison! It wouldn't take a particularly perceptive eye to notice that even a seemingly outlandish example, the desert planet of Arrakis, shines features not too unlike those we may find here on Earth, albeit "turned up to eleven," for the lack of a better expression. They are planets filled with oceans, and continents in between the oceans, most of them, and in general they follow the same rules we follow in our universe: desert storms rise as the wind blows, plates collide to erect mountains, and sentient life is soon to usher in an age of civilisation. Physics and passage of time progress the world as you would expect them to.

Naturally, there will be a degree of variation between Earth-likes. George Martin's Westeros, for one, is an otherwise conventional continent subject to unconventional seasons, some so abnormal they shape entire cultures -- consider the Long Night, for instance, and the impact it had on the Westerosi folklore.

Let's touch on Arrakis again: it is too an Earth-like world at the core, that suffered from a speculated misfortune of a near-miss encounter with a comet, and what once might have been an arid and bountiful world has now been left a scorching desert inhabited by massive sandworms that have evolved to swim through the sands as though they were oceans, and gobble up the teeny-tiny human wanderers crossing their "soil." A few similar worlds come to mind: Kharak, just as extreme and featured in the Homeworld series, and the much more famous Tatooine, the brainchild of George Lucas.

This big quirk -- extreme weather, unpredictable seasons, or morphed geology, or fictional species -- I prefer to dub "the Twist." It is something, a phenomenon or fact of life, that sets this world apart from ours -- something you can use to suggest that the world at hand is its own, and not Earth put in an alternate reality. Extreme biomes of Arrakis or Kharak, and bizarre seasons of Westeros, are just two examples of the Twist. Magic and magical beings found on Azeroth, or in Faerun, is another.

While the Twist is found in all archetypes, I'm of the opinion that Earth-likes depend on it more than others. Take away the Twist, and you will be left with yet another exoplanet, abiding by the rules we all know and, to be frank, find them too mundane to entertain us, or to leave a lasting memory.

As you'd expect, this was the first archetype I visited and considered for my game. The Twist I wish to feature, to go hand in hand with game mechanics I have devised, is the marriage (or clash, depending on your point of view) of science and magic, and the many ways cultures practicing either-or-both would balance them out, or tip the scales in one's favour if they so desire. I'm also very keen on endangering the Player on their journey, which I want to be perilous, and for it to matter more than the destination. Think of it as a world of vagabonds and gallivants, travelling from one bizarre place to a place twice as otherworldly, and embarking on life-threatening quests.

I've considered several worlds, most notably Kharak -- whose native species, the Kushan, traverse it on trucks and jeeps and other sand-crawling machinery. Cities on that scorched planet exist as only safe havens around, surrounded with lifeless sands, and to make it from one city to another is a dangerous affair indeed. The theme resonated with me quite a bit, but I did not find desert planets a good choice for my game, for many reasons:

It is, as the name suggests, a giant desert. There aren't that many biomes (just two, in fact, if you count largely mechanical cities as one) for the Player to explore, and there is little challenge in generating them on the fly, as opposed to a more varied world.

Throwing in arid biomes we discover in worlds like Middle-Earth or Narnia, or Faerun, felt far too conventional to me, and in my mind there would not be much room for an apocalyptic event so crippling as to make exploring this world nigh fatal.

Even if I dodged the desert altogether and rolled with a different biome or biomes, I'd still have to balance between two problems I doubt are easy to solve: featuring more biodiversity in a fundamentally monolithic environment, or more extremes in an Earth-like world that would not fit in very well.

Banality. Banality was a major concern for me, as there are oh so, so many Earth-likes out there in the industry, and the last thing I wish for my little side project is to offer yet another one. No sir!

Scope was the last but nevertheless just as important. It is difficult to fill up a giant continent, or continentS, with enough quests and points of interest to keep the Player invested. It is hard enough to produce enough scripted content, a la World of Warcraft, and it is harder still to delegate the creative matters to an automaton (Talking about you, Left 4 Dead!). Earth-likes, to my understanding, necessitate imposing scale, that I can not hope to achieve neither alone nor in company.

So I scratched this archetype off my list, and again I went searching every nook and cranny of the game industry and beyond for patterns and clues to make into archetype...

Otherlands

Perhaps not the best title to describe a world so otherworldly as to defy all laws native to our universe, but I nonetheless thought it described what I had in mind for such worlds best. Exotics, Otherlands, Alternate Realities, you name it: they spit on the natural laws we've always known, and turn what we consider to be natural upside down, from a relative point of view (I'd image they'd think we earthlings bend their ideas of what is natural, vice versa). They more often than not have so little in common with a conventional; continental world, that as a Player, you ought to be born anew, in a sense, as you have to come to terms with the new reality, and learn the rules alien to your human brain-box.

While not so abundant in fiction or film, there is an unexpected plethora of otherworldly examples found in video games. I suspect, as little more than a humble writer and not at all a qualified game designer, that the blame (the reason, rather) is at least in part to be pinned on the freedom of mechanics worlds detached from all physical boundaries allow. You're no longer on Earth; seldom even in our universe, and more often in a dimension forged by game designers to fulfill a very blunt purpose: to serve the gameplay, in full. I'd imagine it is times easier to set a game built on mechanics hostile to laws of physics somewhere abstract; mallable, in a way, to the designer's whim.

Thinking of examples took me to these fine pieces of digital entertainment:

William Chyr's Manifold Garden is, to me, a quintessential Otherland. It is set in an abstract world wrapping on itself, juxtaposing impossible geometry against Euclidean space. About the only link to our reality it maintains is the presence of gravity. Look up and down, try interacting with the objects or solving the puzzles, and you will very soon understand this is NOT the realm accomodative of your earthly instincts.

Alice: Madness Returns, too, features an Otherland (not Otherlands, fellow Alice fans!), a level set among the clouds, far above in the sky -- none other than Cardbridge! Playing cards dwell there, and glide along the windy streams to form marvellous paper castles in the sky, and bridges, and gates for Alice to cross on her way to the evil (is she really?) Queen's heartful (quite literally) domain. Like in Manifold Garden, physics still permeates this world, but the only "actor" it appears to affect is Alice herself. All that surrounds her, on the other hand, behaves in a way we would think odd.

Oddly enough, Valve's Ricochet is one more example of an Otherland, the way I see it. It's set in a pitch black void, a pocket dimension of a sort, and constricts its gunslinging inhabitants to a small archipelago of quasi-futuristic-looking platforms. It is in many ways abstract and disconnected from what we would brand a "real" world; akin more to a simulation than something even an advanced civilisation would be able to orchestrate in the vacuum of deep space. It instead serves a solitary purpose: to be an open and clear arena for the Players to pull off dextereous ricochets and physics-bending leaps from one spot to the next. There are no other earthly rules to govern this world, and beyond the dark arena is the thrice as dark abyss.

Of course, by this logic, one could consider more abstract games along the lines of Tetris Effect or even Pinball Dreams, to also fit under the same umbrella of otherworldness, and I reckon they would be right. Both games take place in places foreign to our expectation for a, dare I say, traditional setting. This is not to say, oh no, that Otherlands belong to just the games -- far from it! Otherlands are to be found in many other media.

Off the top of my head, I'd count that one scene from the cult-classic 2001: A Space Odyssey, as a "classic" Otherland in a mind-boggling nutshell:

The message I'm trying to convey, if not clear, is that Otherlands are very stubborn, and insistent on breaking you as an earthly thinker; to augment your mind and let it comprehend and utilise the new reality and the rules it enforces, like one would use the laws of our universe. "When in Rome," is the mantra they will have you etch into memory, until you think and interact with it as though you had never known another home.

The entire world, in other words, is one big Twist, standing in stark contrast to the little twists applied here and there to an Earth-like dimension. Furthermore, one could even assert that the Twist in an Otherland is turned on its head -- whereas in an Earth-like Twists were other-landish phenomena many in number but little in scope -- the Twists in an Otherland are instead few and far between, and grounded in reality. They are the links linking an Otherland to the Earth-like law. Say, physics would be very much expected in an Earth-like world, but treated as an exotic Twist in an Otherland.

To be a little more precise, an Otherland does not bother to stay true to the mechanics we think mundane and natural. It instead moulds or kills them outright, and throws itself at the mercy of the designer's wants and wishes.

Otherlands were an option, but not the option, that I'd choose for my world. I cherish the freedom they bestow upon you as a designer, but it alone did not convince me to opt for this archetype. Simply put, the downs outweighed the ups:

The world I wish to create will host fantasy far too Tolkien-esque to distance so much from Earth and earthly law. There is, in my view, a strong pull among many dungeon-crawling aficionados towards fantasy, and fantasy I will deliver. My own strain of fantasy, to be clear, but it will nevertheless mandate a degree of reality deemed by me too Earth-like to belong in an Otherland. I just can not see, at this time, a world of fantasy that is also an Otherland, not if I want my world to radiate welcoming familiarity.

This game being an open-ended RPG, it is difficult for me to envision it in an abstract environment. It calls, as I see it, for landmarks sensible to someone never ever "tainted" by the quirks of Otherlands, familiar and homely in a way, based in laws of physics and around points of interest grounded in our reality. Elevating it to be the Twist of an Otherland, brings the latter much closer to an Earth-like, but not quite. Neither this nor that, if you will, and that in turn leads me to the next and last archetype...

Near-Earths

Should you ever run into the same predicament as yours truly did in the paragraph above, I'd strongly advise you to consider Near-Earths. Not entirely Earth-like, but also too Earth-like to fit as an Otherland, a Near-Earth world is based to some considerable extent in the laws and traits of an Earth-like. It takes the best of both worlds -- mind-boggling Twists of an Otherland and experiential familiarity of an Earth-like -- and mixes them up to shape up something in-between.

Near-Earth remains ultimately an extension of an Earth-like world at its core, but to set itself apart it puts an emphasis on large-scale Twists -- that would be considered too outlandish for an Earth-like. One popular trope among Near-Earths is to feature earthly topology, strewn around the universe in the form of isles or even whole continents. Fundamental laws that define an Earth-like it bends to a fictional degree, but preserves the essentials, such as planets or stars or faimiliar dimensions, that make up our universe. Thus the link between our universe and that lives on, and it's easy for a newcomer to the world to find their way around with little to no hand-holding required.

I can't help but conjure up a few shots from Treasure Planet, which I gather needs no introduction, to illustrate my line of thought. Take one of the more iconic stills from this flawed masterpiece, R.L.S. Legacy docked at the spaceport of Crescentia:

It is in many ways familiar, I think, to anyone who has ever been to any run-of-the-mill harbour, except that ginormous frigate appears to stay suspended mid-air, not even ropes to hold it in place, and not at all swaying side to side on the high seas as one would assume. No, in this universe carpenters and shipwrigts build 18th century vessels propelled by internal combustion engines to fly through the breathable expanse that they call Ethereum. Indeed, there it is possible to breathe in space, so long as one stays careful not to lean too much on the taffrail and fall into the Ethereum proper, doomed forever to be a cosmic castaway.

Treasure Planet is very representative of a Near-Earth world, as I reckon the aforementioned scene proves. While grounded in culture and (partly) science of our universe, it strays a lot from what our scientists would deem feasible, to the point that it is fundamentally different from our universe in some respect, such as there existing a breatheable atmosphere everywhere in their universe, but not so fundamental as to defy every law of science we know in our world. Physics, and planets, and other celestial bodies and phenomena still exist there, albeit altered in a variety of ways.

Another such example would the High Wilderness, that we're told to travel aboard a literal locomotive, in the brilliant game and one of my many favourites -- Sunless Skies:

It, too, features all the same biomes and structures and many laws with a basis in our universe, and like Treasure Planet, it introduces a major twist: the space beyond the confines of Earth (which does exist in Sunless Skies, and generally follows our history with significant deviations perpetrated by Masters of the Bazaar) is an intricate maze of seldom interlocked and often overlapping topology, stacked on top of one another, and filled with an atmosphere reminiscent of Ethereum, breathable but named a different name.

It is still familiar enough to us as earthlings, and it would not take a seasoned Otherlander to pick the thing up and know the rules of play by instinct. Sure, we are driving a locomotive through time and space, and pass by living stars that govern all, called the Judgements, but the spaces we traverse and people we meet and phenomena we witness are not confusing in the slightest. Shrouded in mystery, maybe, but ultimately sensisble if given enough thought. There is not another dimension for us to consider, and impossible geometry wrapping on itself to comprehend, as seen in Manifold Garden. Nay.

On the Judgements, as a side note, I've found them to be an interesting twist in and of themselves: they are intended to be the law-makers that decide what is real in this world, and what is not. Kill, or posses them, and the world will return to a chaotic state, easily a contender for the quintessential Otherland.

One last sample for you to taste would be the city-state of Sigil, the center of all planes in the planar world of Planescape (pardon the tautology!). Also an earthly world in many ways, it departs from tradition by dabbling in the ideas of interplanar travel, and whole planes of existence drifting from place to place depending on the belief of its denizens. Name me a single spiral-shaped medieval town suspended miles in the air:

I hope my criteria is now clear, or clear-er, better still if as a day. A Near-Earth has some of its fundamental laws thrown away, or meddled with, but there is always at least some foundation identical to that of an Earth-like.

Enter the Wild

In the end, I had a choice to make; a choice of three options, all of which bore pros and posed cons. Weighing all of them took me several restless nights, about a week in total, and some creative encouragement from a colleague, who suggested I turn to Sunless Skies-esque worlds for inspiration: islands floating in the sky, nurturing islanders and their peculiar settlements. I fell in love with the idea in a heartbeat, and on and on I went searching for references. It implied to me a Near-Earth, and all the marks of distinguishment I outlined before for other archetypes pointed to Near-Earths as the perfect fit for my world.

I settled for a few points of reference, among them...

Variably-sized islands and quasi-continents of Dragon Hungers, complete with pocket cultures and hosts of creatures that dwell there:

"Outdated" and outlandish means of transportation between the islands, like airships or fire-breathing dragons, a la Sunless Skies:

Celestial bodies of Treasure Planet, like black holes or nebulas, making an appearance, though toned down a bit to ditch some of their more destructive and lethal properties. A black hole wouldn't spaghettify you in the blink of an eye, but falling into one will nonetheless bring a swift (albeit not quite so fast and unavoidable) end to your career:

What they amounted to, ultimately, is an amalgamation of varied islands, some as big as a continent, others as small as my balcony, and all sporting ecosystems never-before-seen on most other islands. They are suspended in the sky, fortunate to have a man-friendly atmosphere, with a devilish twist I'd rather keep a secret for the time being.

Wannabe heroes make their living sailing through this sky aboard mighty airships or fire-breathing dragons (among many other means of transportation), from one island and on to the next, undertaking quests and accepting commissions from the locals to earn themselves some sustenance. It's a floating world of vagabonds, gallivanters, and legends-in-the-making.

OR! Those same gallivanters may find a particular island, or spot upon on the island, very tempting to settle on. Indeed, if they so desire, players would be able to adopt a sedentary lifestyle, and see what the wilds beyond the comfort of their heart might bring one treacherously blissful morning...

Us locals have entitled this universe the Wild. Enter at your own risk, traveller, for you may never return. This theme seemed to me like a good middle-ground between all the problems I've outlined reviewing archetypes:

Scope was confined to the typical bounds of an island. Some are bigger than others, no doubt, but all of them are a far cry from the usual dimensions of a continent. A narrow scope, as such, is a scope amiable to developers limited in number, or readiness to tackle an enormous landmass.

Narrowed scope in turn shortens the distance one must travel to leave one point of interest for another. We're feeding two birds with one scone -- there is no need for us, as developers, to fill up the lands betwixt with something for you to do, and you won't have to drag yourself through an overstretchesd piece of half-arsed (pardon my French) filler to finally reach the objective that caught your eye in the first place.

At last, as my colleague pointed out, islands in space are capital. Done before to be sure, that road has been travelled many times (and so were most others), but it is still the Earth-likes that proudly keep at the victorious spree as the dominant archetype among the developers. A Near-Earth to me felt like a fair and much-wanted change of scenery, for once in a blue moon.

A floating world shattered into many habitable pieces by far imposes so many more factors upon the cultures, languages, civilisation, technology, and nature of the wild, that to turn it down in favour of an all-too-researched Earth-like world seemed a lazy way out the massive creative problem, I think, many people of letters and pencil and other trades would be thrilled to approach.

P.S. I do realise all my scribbled judgements are arbitrary, and the lines separating Near-Earth from Earth-likes, from Otherlands, is apparently fine, and entirely subjective. These are little more than my five cents; my five thoughts on the subject, and I personally found grouping these worlds into archetypes a good "bookmark" that I've used and will likely come back to designing my own worlds. Peace.

#worldbuilding #devlog #gamedev

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trainsinanime · 5 years ago

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Adrien v Batman

Just so we're clear here: This is all about Miraculous Ladybug on its own, it is not about the oddly popular Miraculous Ladybug/Batman crossovers in the fandom.

For months now I've had these thoughts that don't really coalesce into anything. It starts with this old webcomic from 2011. That comic discusses the frequent idea that "men are just sexualised as women in comics" by pointing out that Batman, as we see him normally, is meant to appeal to male, not female audiences. And to illustrate this, it shows what a Batman designed to appeal to women might look like. You get some things like larger eyes for more emotion, a leaner build for dexterity over power, and more visible face. Good point, done well, deserved its run in the limelight in 2011 and probably doesn't hurt to bring it back now either.

But watching Miraculous Ladybug, I can't help but wonder: Is that comic the origin story for Chat Noir? Because those descriptions match him pretty well.

In general, Ladybug seems to be inspired by Spiderman (red outfit, rope powers, teenage angst, just all a lot less intense), and the conclusion that Chat Noir is inspired by Batman seems very simple, too: Hangs out on tall buildings, dresses in black, his outfit has extra ears on it, he lives in a big empty manor, parental abandonment issues…

But a lot of Adrien's defining characteristics seem to be the exact opposite of Bruce Wayne, and in particular the brooding, serious, hyper-masculine version popularised by the Nolan movies and parodied so beautifully by the Lego movies.

Most importantly, Adrien is emotionally very open (even more so when he's Chat Noir). He doesn't hide his emotions, his pain at all. On the flip side, he is incredibly open to making new friends. He even went out of his way to become friends with that one super-judgemental girl who saw him, went "you're rich, that means you suck", and falsely accused him of putting gum on her seat. People go to great lengths here on Tumblr to point out how actually Bruce Wayne is really kind you just don't notice because it doesn't come up that often. No need to do that for Adrien; it's always 100% out in the open.

In fact, being kind and emotionally open is a huge part of his role in the superhero team dynamic. He does the Spider-Man quipping, and when things have gotten really bad near the end of a season finale, he provides emotional support to Ladybug by telling her how much he believes in her. That is not something Batman would do to Spiderman most of the time, and even if he did, it would be framed as this big revelation, not as reaffirming something we've always seen anyway.

It even goes down to the superhero costume. Ignoring all the changes they made to avoid copyright infringement, the costumes are fairly similar: Black mask, dark suit, all designed to blend into the night, and black extra ears because, as the title of Gintama episode 43 said, "Make Characters So Anybody Can Tell Who They Are By Just Their Silhouettes". But artists over the years have gone to great lengths to make Batman's suit seem powerful, masculine, regal, and not at all silly, despite it being a grown man dressing like a bat.

Adrien, on the other hand? His suit features a bell. They didn't just leave the silly in, they draw attention to it and made it a key part of the design, because silly and emotionally open and honest is a key part of who Adrien is.

And finally, of course, the descriptions from the comic: Adrien is lean and has large expressive eyes. Both apply to most characters in the show, of course, that's its aesthetic, but they could have easily changed the aesthetic (early in the design process) if they had wanted a more classic Batman-type Adrien. Even within the show as it is, you have quite a range of body types, so an Adrien built more like a prize boxer would have certainly been possible. But that's clearly not the character they were going for here.

So… I'm not sure if this is deliberate. I think you can read Adrien as an alternate take on Batman; a Batman who sees strength in connection with others, instead of brooding, and ends up much happier as a result (plus, he got Spider-Man to crush on him). To me, the similarities seem too clear for this to be an accident, but who knows. Not sure what the conclusion is either; it's just something I found interesting.

#adrien agreste #chat noir #miraculous ladybug #batman #bruce wayne #mlb meta

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haledamage · 5 years ago

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Bless Me With Your OTP

Rules: answer as many of the following questions as you want, and add art/screenshots to show off your OTP!

Tagged by @queen-scribbles :D tagging… @allisondraste @risualto @serenbach86 @shimmer-like-agirl @ariela-of-aedyr

I’m gonna do Vesiya/Jorgan because that’s who I’m writing right now :)

I feel like I’ve already answered most of these, in some variation, with Kai and both her boys as well as Cait/Nate, and this way I don’t have to choose a Bravo Boy for Kira :P

Do they fight often? If so, what is their dynamic like?

They butt heads a lot when they first met. They’re both headstrong and natural leaders, but it wasn’t so much fighting as it was posturing.

Now that they’ve settled down around each other, they don’t fight, but they do have Disagreements that mostly involve them both using their Commanding Officer voice and referring to each other entirely by their rank rather than by name. It doesn’t happen often, they agree with each other most of the time, and when it does happen it’s almost always about work things not about personal things. Ves will only pull rank to stop an argument if they’re in public, and she hates doing it.

They will, however, fight anyone and everyone on each others’ behalf. They will pick a fight with the Supreme Chancellor himself if they think he’s insulting their spouse. That part started all the way back at Ord Mantell, long before they’d even considered a romantic relationship - really, even before they were friends. Ves almost lost command of Havoc as soon as she got it because she argued so strongly against Jorgan’s demotion.

Who is the most skeptical of the two?

Definitely Jorgan, which I’m sure surprises no one. The man’s never believed a single word that comes out of a politician’s mouth, and only half that come out of Republic Command. And don’t even get him started on what he thinks of the SIS. While Ves is certainly not a push-over by any means, she’s a lot more likely to give someone the benefit of the doubt than he is.

Who would be most likely to suggest a night of dancing?

Ves. She loves dancing and is very good at it, though her experience with it is mostly either by herself at a cantina or out with a group of friends. Jorgan surprises her when she asks him to dance by saying yes, and surprises her again by being skilled at it. She even lets him lead… for a little while. I’m actually in the middle of writing this scene as we speak

What would they do if the other was injured in battle?

If Jorgan is injured, Ves’s first priority is getting him away from the fighting and out of harm’s way. As long as he’s conscious, Jorgan’s going to keep fighting, and she can’t help him if he’s still fighting. She’s not above ordering him to stand down. Her second priority is healing him. She’s a trained medic, though not as skilled as Elara she’s definitely good enough to deal with an injury in the field until they can get to a medcenter to take care of it properly. Even at the medcenter, she prefers to treat his wounds herself if she can, rather than let Elara or the medical droid do it; if it’s not something she has the power to treat, she hovers, needing to be useful or have something to do to help.

If Hallis is injured, I feel really sorry for whoever hurt her. The first thing Aric does is make sure it’s not life threatening, and if it is, to patch it up enough to stabilize her. He’s no medic, but he’s been in the field for a long time and knows how to patch a wound enough that it won’t kill you anymore, even if he can’t do much more than that. The second thing he does is kill whatever is responsible for hurting Ves and anyone that might be working with them. Then he gets her to Elara or a medcenter as fast as he can. He refuses to leave the room while she’s being treated, and won’t leave her side until she’s recovered.

How do their fighting styles complement each other?

If Ves had had any say in who the first member of Havoc Squad could have been, she’d have still picked Aric. She’s an assault cannon specialist, he’s a sniper, so generally she goes in loud to draw the enemy out and he takes them out as soon as they pop their heads out of cover. Quick, clean, surgical, with barely a word spoken between them. Honestly, by the time she’s promoted to Captain, the two of them can clear an entire battleship without a word, they understand each other on such a fundamental level that they don’t need to call out corners or targets anymore. There’s a reason Havoc ends up with the reputation it does, and it sure as hell ain’t because of Tavus and his squad.

Do they want children? Does it frighten them? How many do they want?

Vesiya would love to have kids. Her brother’s kids are the light of her life and she’d love to have some of her own someday. Jorgan I don’t think had ever really considered it before, he’s a career man through and through, but things change after he meets Ves. And after she was missing for those five years… when he gets her back, I think family is a much higher priority to him then than his career ever was.

I don’t think Cathar and Mirialan are reproductively compatible, but adoption is an option, and one I think they’d both be happy with. I could see them with a whole litter of kids from various races.

As parents, they’d both be a little on the strict side, but fair. Ves is great with kids, and very patient, and Jorgan would be a fantastic dad once he warmed up to it. Can you imagine, a little army of younglings following him around?

What happened when they took them home to their families? If their families aren’t in the picture anymore, how do they feel about it?

I maaaaaay already have some fic ideas floating around for this.

I don’t know if Jorgan has any family? I can’t remember if he mentions it, he hasn’t so far in my playthrough, and the last one was years ago, so I’m gonna skip that. If he does, I’ll edit this and come back to it :)

But Ves’s family adores Aric. She comes from a very Republic-centered family - her mother is a senator, her father a retired admiral, her twin brother and his wife are both SIS, and she has a younger brother who’s a Jedi (though she hasn’t seen him in like 15 years since he first showed Force sensitivity because Jedi can’t have attachments and all that) - so chances are good that he’d met some of them before he met her, or that they’d already heard of him at least. He makes a better first impression with them than he did with Ves XD

Vitrin, her twin, is probably the slowest to come around, but only because he’s very protective of his sister, and Vit’s wife Lena is the fastest to accept him because she’s got really good instincts about people. Ves’s nieces, Scout and Zan (Scout is a nickname, her name is actually Kesiya (after her aunt, sort of), but no one calls her that anymore), are already calling him Uncle Aric before they’ve finished that first dinner.

After Ves is declared MIA, Jorgan still keeps in touch with her family - though at first, mostly at their insistence. Vit and Lena have a 3rd kid while Ves is “missing” and they name him Aric, and if that doesn’t tell you how much they love him, I don’t know what will.

How does each person show affection towards the other?

Both of their main love language is Acts of Service, so the biggest way they show affection is by doing things for each other. Jorgan does weapon checks and makes sure Ves’s armor is in good working order, that she’s as safe as he can make her. Hallis makes sure he isn’t hurt, checking for injuries after every combat situation even when he claims he’s fine (he is not always fine. He doesn’t like to worry her about the small stuff. She worries anyway); she does most of the talking, especially to politicians, so he doesn’t have to. Whichever of them wakes up first makes sure the other has a cup of caf waiting for them. They watch each other’s backs.

Besides that, Aric likes to give gifts. Not big ones, necessarily, though he does some of those, too, but a lot of little things. Like a beer at a cantina after the end of a long mission, or an upgrade for her cannon that he knows she had her eye on. Little things that say “I was thinking about you” or prove how well he knows her and what she likes.

Ves likes physical affection. A hand on Jorgan’s shoulder or his arm, a quick kiss before a mission, she’s especially fond of the forehead lean. She won’t do much more than that in public, they’re both very professional, but it’s still her way to silently say “I’m here with you, I love you”. In private, there will never be such a thing as too many hugs. She could wrap herself around him and just stay there all day and be happy.

Who cries the most? Who is better at comforting?

Oh boy, neither of them are big criers. I won’t say they’re repressed, because they aren’t, they both are fairly good at expressing emotion, especially for career soldiers, but any strong enough negative emotion that would elicit tears mostly just turns to anger for both of them. There are a few major exceptions, but they all revolve around that pesky time Ves was pronounced dead for a few years. That was obviously a very hard time for Aric, and when Ves got free she had to make peace with the idea that she’d missed five years. She definitely had at least one very large breakdown.

If I had to pick one, I’d probably say Ves cries more, if only just and only very rarely. And only in absolute privacy where no one can see it at all.

Ves is probably better at comforting, by merit of having a lot of family, especially young children. Or rather, she’s very good at verbal comfort, but Jorgan is probably better at physical comfort. Just look at him. Clearly the man gives good hugs, just look at those arms. Plus, don’t Cathar purr? :)

Who is the bigger flirt?

Jorgan, believe it or not. He’s the one that initiates, most of the time, and Hallis just plays off of what he says. Neither of them are very good at blatantly stating their feelings for each other for a really long time, but admitting attraction is easier. They’re very playful flirts, much more playful than they are in absolutely any other aspect of their lives. It’s a dance, a push and pull, a subtle competition between them. They flirt for a long time before they ever make a step toward an actual relationship.

They very, very rarely ever flirt in public, and when they do it’s always just a quiet aside, not meant to be heard by anyone else, and it’s never anything incriminating. Poor Elara, though, for having to put up with these two. Patience of a saint, that woman. Anyone else would have thrown them out the airlock ages ago.

Of course, it takes them months to get to the point where they’re comfortable enough with each other to start flirting. And outside of each other, they don’t flirt. Like, at all. Ves didn’t even flirt with Balkar.

#vesiya hallis #ves/jorgan #picture if you will: aric jorgan sitting on a sofa with two young half-mirialan half-twi'lek children asleep in his lap #scout is 7 and zan is 4 and they are both adorable #that was the moment ves decided beyond a shadow of a doubt 'I am going to marry this man'#that fic will be coming once I'm done with the one I'm already working on and the ones that I'm supposed to be working on #I'll just put it in the queue :)#I really need some good screenshots of them together #but I haven't gotten to the good screenshots together part of their relationship #maybe I should commission some art #though I feel like even outside of the limitations of the game engine #most of their time together is spent with her talking to whoever they need to talk to #while he stands slightly behind her right shoulder and glares threateningly and whoever she's talking to

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cacpartmobile · 4 years ago

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sparc! interviews Teaching Artist, Maddu Huacuja

"I know what's in my heart and what's on my mind and I start creating images and have a conversation with the canvas."

This interview took place on the Zoom platform on June 10, 2020 Ekua: I want to introduce Maddu Huacuja, who is a friend, an esteemed artist, a very passionate involved community member who works with sparc! as a lead artist for our Paint Nights - along with many other things that she does with sparc! She attends and participates in Paint Jazz, she's done community based murals for Paint Salsa, so she's a part of our family.

We thought we would start our series by interviewing her with maybe some questions that I had and maybe some questions that you also had.

So welcome Maddu.

Maddu: Thank you it’s a pleasure to see your face.

Ekua: My first question for you Maddu, was how do you begin a painting?

Maddu: *chuckles* First I take a nap, after my canvas is ready I go to sleep in the studio.

Doesn't matter what time it is, day or night. I just lie down. I guess it’s a meditation but I feel like I’m dreaming the painting first and then I just make a mark anywhere on the canvas, just to break the whiteness of it. I generally have a vague idea of what I am going to paint. I never have a finished sketch or anything like that, it’s a general idea. I know what's in my heart and what's on my mind and I start creating images and have a conversation with the canvas.

Ekua: I think that's very admirable, given the beauty of your work. Another thing that I think is very admirable is how large you are able to work sometimes. Can you tell me, why do you work large, what's important about working large to you?

Maddu: Even though I seem like a very calm person and I am, I need to be moving. So the large canvas - I can move from one end to the other. Sometimes I have to get on a ladder or a step stool, and then I really feel like an artist, but I like the movement. I feel that if I’m moving the image moves. I also always have music playing, often loud and active music. I have a lot of different music. I put it on a roll and the mood of the song or piece moves me in a certain way, so that becomes part of my imagery. I feel like the movement is really important. I don’t want to paint a painting that isn’t moving.

Ekua: So you're not sitting down, you're not standing in one spot, you're moving around that canvas. Do you work in oil or acrylic, what kind of mediums do you use?

Maddu: I often mix acrylic with drawing. I rarely work with oil. I think again because of the movement, acrylic is faster, but I do like oils. Everytime I think about it I'm like, “Oh I want to paint with oils”. But when I get to the studio it’s like I’m in acrylic. I like having a bucket of water near me, maybe that’s all it is.

Ekua: Well It certainly does dry faster, which allows you to move through a very large painting a little bit faster. Do you feel that your subject matter is in a particular area that you don’t really stray from? Is your storytelling about a particular kind of story or do you move around? How would you describe that aspect of your artwork?

Maddu: It’s not a decision, it's sort of how it works out. My focus is mostly… well, I do a lot of abstract but also I don’t know if I’m mostly figurative. When I do figurative work I am focused on people that “don’t matter”, either symbolically or specific people. For instance years ago there was a massacre in Mexico and all these men were murdered and the women were left as widows and the children were all orphaned. They were very poor to begin with. So they went to the local city hall to make a statement to try to get help, etcetera. There was a tiny photograph in the magazine of these women with their babies and every single one of them was barefoot, and I decided to paint their portraits. As I was painting I was like, “Why am I doing this, here in the United States no one even heard of this place, let alone cared about it?” I just thought, “Well If I don’t do it nobody is going to do it” and it seemed important to me. So I struggled through all those toes and little baby feet. It was in the show that you saw at the Roxbury Community College gallery many years later. So sometimes an event that touches me is my theme. I think I am very connected to my Mexican roots, so it's not just in the events that happen but in my image making. It really is part of my DNA; the colors, the kind of images I create. I think it is influenced a great deal from my childhood in a city that was thriving: vibrant with public art, murals everywhere, beautiful fresco murals, with the famous three muralists Diego Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros , José Clemente Orozco. And also by Frida Kahlo's work. My mother was a painter, so even though she wasn’t painting I knew she had been a painter and her oils were in the closet. So, you know, it just became part of who I am. I think that still comes through. Sometimes my focus is specifically on women.

Ekua: So we mentioned RCC as the sight of one of your exhibitions. I know recently you’ve been spending some time over at Bunker Hill Community College and you had an opportunity to do some teaching. I am wondering how you feel teaching influences your artwork or has an impact on your artwork. Working with young artists, not just young artists but artists that you are mentoring within a classroom setting or within a community arts setting like sparc! the ArtMobile. How does that seep into your consciousness or into your work?

Maddu: I love teaching. I enjoy teaching spanish or art. I like all ages, so sparc! in particular is perfect for what I love because you have 2 year olds and 82 year olds and everything in between. I think teaching is fun, and as far as what I paint it’s freeing, it just loosens my hands, my mind. At Bunker Hill most of the teaching I did was around the exhibition that was up. It was called Open the Way and it was up from October through the end of February. So it was a long stretch and a lot of classes came in, and I learned a lot about my painting from my teaching these students.It was fascinating because, particularly in Bunker Hill, there's a really international student body. Every time there was a class there were at least 10 countries represented and several continents. It was very interesting because I said in one class that in a previous class people were not speaking up, and a student from the African continent, I don’t remember which country, it might have been Ghana, said “That’s because they are being polite. You don’t just speak in front of your elders.” I was like, “Oh.” I was humbled by that. Also, about my paintings, they saw things and told me things about how the work affected them and what they saw in it. That was wonderful for me to hear, really an eye opener for me.

Ekua: That’s so interesting that you can learn about your art from a viewer.

Maddu: Yes, totally.

Ekua: Revelations about the richness of your own artwork.

Maddu: Yes, I wish that I could have recorded everything that was said. Of course nothing was recorded and I always regret that I didn’t take half an hour afterwards to write down the things that I heard. That’s something that I definitely want to make part of my practice.

Ekua: When you're teaching at an event like Paint Night, and you have this audience from 2 to 92 and everything in between, do you come in with one sort of thing that you want everyone to leave with? You know some people obviously have more skill with painting. Children are interested in mixing all the paints together and sticking their hand in it. Everybody’s entering from a different standpoint, but what do you as an artist hope to impart as a takeaway for each person?

Maddu: You know, the didactic part of me wants them to learn one thing at least. Even if it’s just what blue and red make, or something. I really want them to learn how to use a brush. There's always something that is very gratifying for me that they learn. But mostly, I usually come after my day job to a Paint Night because they are always on a Monday night, and very often I am like, “God, how am I going to make it through this class?” I’m so tired and my mind is mush and I get there and I just get this energy from sparc!. From all the helpers that are amazing, and without it I wouldn't do it, and from the students because they come with their own positive energy. So I hope they leave the class like I leave the class, which is feeling really happy. You know it’s uplifting to me to do the class. I figure if they are happy they are going to like art because it is a happy experience, and so I like them to feel good about what they did, and about themselves. I like to bring each kid up and show his work or her work and introduce themselves, and say something about the painting, which I think is a good thing regardless of what you’re teaching or what they are learning. Just to be able to get up in front of a group of people that they mostly don’t know and introduce themselves and speak up. It leads me to my other piece of my art and being an artist is, in this time - where I feel we are on the brink of many things - I think it’s really important for people to speak up. If they learn to speak up, to say “Hello! I’m over here and I have this much to say!” and to be able to say it. I think if they learned that we have accomplished something

Ekua: I totally agree with that. You know, initially I thought people would be very shy about getting up and talking about their work, but the overall atmosphere of a Paint Night seems like an environment where people feel comfortable, safe and feel welcomed. Little kids or people who have never spoken before a crowd get up and talk about their painting. They receive so much warmth and appreciation. I think it's such a key part of the Paint Night experience and I believe that you are the artist who started doing that, and now it has become a part of our best practices. So thank you.

Maddu: I’m very happy to hear that. I remember one kid in particular - putting her on a chair because she was so tiny. ”You stand over here and show everybody.” It’s like 45-60 people in the room, and it's a wave of “Aww that’s beautiful, that's wonderful!” Clapping. “Congratulations!” And the kid just seems to overcome their shyness. So yeah, I love it.

Ekua: Well I am sure you know we miss being able to do our Paint Nights this semester and we are looking at an uncertain fall. We don’t know if we will be able to be together in that room with 50-60 people. We will have to create something new. If you were speaking to some of the folks at home, sheltering at home during this pandemic, how would you encourage them to bring more creativity into their life - even though they aren't at a Paint Night, or they might not even have paints or supplies. Is there anything you can share with them about your life as a creative maker that they can apply to their lives now?

Maddu: I think the only way anything gets done is if you make room for it, and that goes for everything. So we tend to give prime importance to our job. You have to be there by 9 o’clock no matter what happens there you are. But when it comes to our own personal stuff we tend to give it less importance, like going to your exercise class or going to your studio seems to be less important - but it really isn't. I think the only way, particularly when we are sitting around and no one’s telling us that we have to be anywhere, we have to initiate on our own. “Today at noon I’m going to drop everything and go to my studio.” Or “I’m going to pull out my little art stuff.” Whatever you have at home, put on some music or tapes whatever it is that inspires you and motivates you and just do something. It doesn’t matter how much you get done for an hour - or maybe that’s stretching it.

Ekua: I guess that can even be dancing or singing. I mean it’s not necessarily all visual art but just the idea that each of us has a creative spirit that is longing for expression.

Maddu: Right. Or sit down and write for an hour regardless of if it's your masterpiece or not - or your future novel. I signed up online for an app called Ulysses that is a writing app. I love it because it is very intuitive and you just write. You don’t have to save or anything, whatever you write is saved automatically. You don’t have to format. So it makes it easy. You have to find ways to know yourself enough to make it happen for you, make it easy.

Ekua: Well here is my last question. I was in another zoom meeting the other day and someone said we need to reframe all of our work as social justice work. I thought that was really interesting to think about everything I do in the context of social justice. So as not just an artist but an arts activist, how would you apply that to your life in this sort of immediate time? Being an activist and reframing as a social justice activist?

Maddu: Well the fact that this is a pandemic and we are all locked down - but here we are. We can still influence and speak up through all the media. We all need to be political. There is no option. It's not like, “Oh I’m not into politics.” Everybody has to be into politics. Making art, the decision to create is, in my mind, a political statement. The one thing I would say is, vote at every level, not just for the presidential elections but all your local elections. Find out who your local representatives are, call them up. You can do that, it's not hard. Write letters if that is what you are prone to do. Again it's a matter of everybody has to act and find what it is that you deeply care about and act on that even if it is about saving polar bears. You know if it's about politics or if it's about...

Ekua: Global warming, climate change.

Maddu: Everything is so dire, you know.

Ekua: Mhm feels that way.

Maddu: If you just hold it in you're going to die, so just do something, do anything. And do it with somebody else. Join a group and see what is going on. Meet on zoom and see what people are talking about. Together we rise. I think it’s always been a crucial moment, but this one is really obvious. People are dying everyday, thousands of new people are sick. This is really life and death, and if we allow the current president another 4 years I dont know whats going to happen.

Ekua: Heaven help us.

Maddu: I mean really seriously it’s not even like “Oh I like this candidate or that candidate”. Forget that. I think everything you do to influence the social fabric and what's going is literally saving the world. Saving the world for our children, for our grandchildren, for ourselves. And if we let this moment pass it’s going to be that much harder.

Ekua: And all of the tools at our disposal include painting, poetry and dance - things that touch the heart and soul.

Maddu: Absolutely.

Ekua: So everybody can do something.

Maddu: Everybody! Children can do something. They can write letters.They can study. They can read books and find out their history, find out what's happened before. I also don’t mean everybody has to go around in a panic and freaking out. I think we need beauty, we need to feed our heart and our soul and our mind with poetry and beautiful paintings, or intense paintings. But it’s not just about the intensity, but about the beauty and the love.

Ekua: Love is at the center of everything good, I would say.

Maddu: I think Rumi said “Love is the bridge between you and everything else”.

Ekua: Like that! Well, I want to thank you for taking this time out to be with us. I’m sure you and I could talk for another hour at least but I want to keep it within a framable amount of time that people can squeeze in or listen to while they are painting or whatever. We don’t know what will happen in the fall but whatever we're doing Maddu, we know that you're going to be a part of it, in terms of sparc! the ArtMobile and the Center for Art and Community Partnerships. We thank you so much for being a part of our family, contributing to the beauty in the world, and we will be back in touch with you very, very soon.

Maddu: Thank you for everything you do, especially for this community. And I am a total fan. I think you're a hero.

Ekua: Thank you so much.

#contemporarywomenartists #sparctheartmobile #madduhuacuja

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edmund-valks · 5 years ago

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What Lies Beneath... the Barn

“Wait, if you can think of that, why do you need me?”

Ilandreline brushed dark hair back from her sweat-slicked brow, carefully pouring molten metal into gear molds. “Because I can only do the calculations, not the actual magic. Also I would prefer to be able to validate it before I get my friends sucked into terrifying cosmic voids.”

She was really glad for this setup, even more glad that nobody seemed to notice she’d built a basement into the barn using a disintegrating arcanodrill while they’d been off engaging in weird things like “commerce”, whatever that meant. Not that she didn’t know what the word meant, but. Is my internal dialogue supposed to be this bad? No, it’s not. Maybe you’re not as smart as you hoped. Fair.

“Anyway,” she said aloud, setting the fresh gears to quench, “you’re the only one I know who even cares about my planar work, much less understands how to use it in this fashion. You already made it better, remember? That second letter of yours?” She spared a glance for the other elf, trying to gauge her reaction.

Perched on a corner of her workbench, the diminutive ren’dorei was… blushing? Either that or suffocating; her cheeks were flushed a soft violet rather than her whole face, so presumably it wasn’t asphyxiation. “Well, I mean, anyone could have if they-”

“If you finish that sentence I’m going to hit you with a wrench.”

She stopped so fast her teeth clacked.

The Fence Macabre’s resident -- whether they knew it or liked it -- engineer continued. “If anyone could do it, then I’m a fool for not having done it myself, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t just call me a fool. And second of all, no, they couldn’t have, so stop trying to downplay your work. You’re smart about this stuff and you’ve got a unique perspective. You’re a valuable colleague and I’d love for you to be a co-author when I publish this theory.”

More colour rushed to her cheeks, making Sentua look something like a blueberry. Poor thing! Whatever the ren’dorei had done to themselves, it had really screwed them out of any fashion choices they may have liked beforehand. Red and gold just… didn’t… with that complexion.

“I… would like to be published with you, thank you. Are you sure- Wait, of course you are, otherwise you wouldn’t have said it, right?” She took several deep breaths. “Sorry.”

Ila shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. You about studied up, ready to try out the first one?”

“Um. Let me take one more look at the diagram and re-check the math. Then I’ll go over the runes again.”

“Sure thing, take your time. I got a bunch of these brass bastards to make anyway.” Anyone from the Fence who wasn’t her was unlikely to have any idea why she was making multiple copies of something that was already built. That was probably for the best. Nobody else really seemed to appreciate the old grandfather clock the way she did.

While she worked, her visitor did exactly as she’d said she would, tracing the structure they’d slowly developed using extraplanar theoretics combined with several known nexus points. If they’d had access to a superior medium (who wasn’t also wholeheartedly opposed to their purpose), maybe they would have been able to determine if it was going to work without having to craft a prototype. But what would be the fun in that?

Well, it would certainly involve less child endangerment.

Hey! That’s not fair, she’s an adult!

...In human years, yes. How old is she? Twenty?

Twenty-three? Give or take a year.

This is wildly irresponsible parenting!

I’m not her parent!

Good point. It’s really irresponsible of them to let her hang out with someone like us.

No kidding! What are they thinking!

“Okay, I’m getting started now. Try to keep quiet and stay over there. I’m… not sure what this is going to look like when I get it going.”

That made two of them. Ilandreline very casually moved behind a thickly armoured panel she used in case one of her iron molds exploded. “Righto, let ‘er rip, Senny!”

Despite her youth, she sure looked like she knew what she was doing. Having grown up around an assortment of arcane manipulators (as well as normal manipulators), Ila could usually follow spellwork as it happened. She was utter rubbish at it herself, but that was why she’d done theoretical work. That way she never had to prove anything except on paper.

The interweaving runic designs began flaring to life, unexpectedly nightblue with pinpricks of starlight within them. A brief peek without her goggles in place confirmed that wasn’t a trick of the lenses, it was the Real Deal. Since she had no idea what it meant, if anything, the sin’dorei kept waiting and watching.

A subaural thrum filled the air, slowly building intensity. Sentua seemed unbothered, continuing to do… whatever a wizard did during a lengthy ritual. Concentrate or something. The vibration became more sensible until it started to feel like her teeth were going to rattle from her skull. Then it stopped and things got weird.

When your family was exiled due to a misunderstanding involving the regular sacrifice over centuries of sentient beings to dark powers, you grew up with a different baseline for weirdness from others. As a result, this wasn’t the weirdest thing Ila had ever seen, but it was certainly up there. She pulled her goggles off to see with the tainted vision that same “misunderstanding” had gifted her.

Portals were opening and clothing, like mouths made of eyes, evaporating as soon as they formed. A loop made of itself (what?) turned outside-in until they disappeared inside it. Eyes of darkness flared against the backdrop of interminable void within one of the gaping portal-maws and she felt uncomfortably seen. Maybe I messed up the math after all.

A crackle of power flared through the starlight rune-circles, drawing constellations like the antipodal counterpart of what she’d seen in drawings from Ulduar. This was a place she recognized, but not in a way she’d experienced it before. There was the old, familiar whisperings, comforting as ever, slipping over and through her being with their gentle rubberiness. The sensation of being watched, as always, and knowing what was heard wasn’t her own thoughts; just another day looking at what the authorities of Silvermoon had called “the wrong side of things” when they’d been exiled a couple hundred years back.

The ache in her jaw was new, though. And… getting worse. Something was affecting the pressure in the room. Maybe I should open the door up to the barn, help equalize it? Ilandreline tried to move but her body wouldn’t respond right. She tried to talk but nothing came out. The air felt like molasses, though, and it started to… ooze… into her open mouth in one of the more unpleasant sensations she’d ever encountered.

This is definitely bad, this is going to keep increasing until we pop like overfed ticks. It wasn’t a comforting thought. She’d die like she’d lived, though: making bad decisions with dangerously undertested experiments. Her jaw was being forced wider and wider, until it felt like it was going to pop out of its socket. Then something did pop and there was a roar like an entire storm’s worth of thunder if it was packed into a giant’s sneeze.

Wetness -- blood? Probably! -- trickled from her ears, but she could close her mouth again. She did so, gingerly, rubbing at it. “Faoh,” she mumbled, unable to make real words quite yet. Her brain didn’t want to form them, her mouth couldn’t. She blinked far too often for several minutes before recovering enough to replace the tinted lenses through which she typically viewed the world.

Sentua was still standing, looking… mostly normal. Maybe slightly dazed; half catatonic? No more than that, maybe only a quarter. But she was also grinning like the cat who’d eaten a smaller, weaker cat to gain its feline prowess.

“Ah wubna!” she said in triumph.

“Fwah?” was Ila’s response as she stuck her little finger into an ear, trying to pry loose the inability to understand. It came back covered in what was definitely blood, possibly with a little extra something she didn’t want to think about too closely.

The ren’dorei worked her jaw a bit, then tried again. “I did it!” The words formed right that time, managing to get through the sticky haze in Ila’s ears. “I don’t know if it worked, but it went off just like we expected it to.”

“Hleva nuhs!” Frowning, she slapped herself once, then a second time, harder. Wiggling her jaw from side to side, she formed the words very deliberately. “Ve...ry… nice.” Moving over to where the first pocket watch -- more staggered, really, as if she was quite drunk -- Ilandreline examined it. It looked right.

She turned it just so, opened a back panel to look into the mirrored surface there, checking behind her. And sure enough, just as she’d hoped, there was the leering grin of a lurking specter, axe poised and with a hungry look in its eyes. “Hey, fella! Good to see you again. We made you portable.” She laughed, gave a wink that the cursed entity could never see. “Look out, world! The Fence Macabre has portable curse detectors now!”

Her new partner came to look over her shoulder and practically jumped out of her skin. Sentua glanced hurriedly back to the real world then into the gleaming silvered expanse. “This… this is what you were trying to do?”

“Absolutely!”

“But… why?”

Ilandreline just stared for a moment. She didn’t understand why people kept asking that. It was clearly a great idea. “Because why wouldn’t you want to be able to see what kind of horrific spirits are lurking in an area? This is a much more portable form of the curse, one that can be replicated multiple times using the demiplanar transpositionalities we derived, augmented through a series of linking and magnifying matrices. So long as I keep at least half of the original gears in the grandfather clock, I can use the rest to create portable horror viewers!”

Sentua stared at her for rather a long time. It got awkward. Eventually she shrugged, though, which was probably for the best. “Well, as long as you’re happy and it works, I guess that’s good enough for me! I think I’m gonna go home and sleep, though, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Get your rest, that was probably pretty draining.” She grinned, squeezed the young elf in a one-armed hug. “And be proud! You did great.”

“Thanks! I… don’t know if replicating a curse into multiple other objects was what I thought I’d be doing, but at least it confirmed our theories.” She grinned weakly, then stumbled off to the designated teleportation corner, keying one of her completion-tokens to zap her back home.

Ilandreline kept turning the pocket watch over, chuckling. It didn’t tell time worth a damn, but she didn’t care about that. It had worked. And she was going to be published again for that work, damn it, preferably somewhere that would absolutely irritate her parents to no end.

Truly, she was living her best life, and it was all thanks to the Fence.

#Wow Rp #fence macabre #warcraft rp

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godsofterror · 6 years ago

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Land Draugr Mythology

Draugr, much like the Kraken, is a legendary Norse creature. As discussed in part one, the name Drogo derives from the Old Norse word draugr. I've surmised that Hugor (of the Hill) is siimilarly derived from hugr, and that the original Hugor, who lead the Andals during the fight against the evil of the Long Night

To frame the discussion about draugrs, Hugor/hugr, barrows, and the boundaries between the living and the dead, we need to better understand Norse draugr myths. In the essays to follow, I'll discuss how they have been interpreted by fantasy writers, including Tolkien.

Definition of draugrs

Draugrs are the Norse undead. The soul (hugr), upon death, refuses to leave the material plane, and instead reoccupies its former body. There are two types of draugrs: land (or barrow) draugrs, and sea draugrs. This section will focus on land draugrs.

The will appears to be strong, strong enough to draw the hugr [animate will] back to one's body. These reanimated individuals were known as draugar (or draugr). However, though the dead might live again, they could also die again. Draugar die a "second death" as Chester Gould calls it, when their bodies decay, are burned, dismembered or otherwise destroyed.

Barrows

Draugrs are inextricably linked with barrows in Norse mythology. Barrows, also known as "howes" or "tumuluses", are artificial low mounds (or hills) where people are buried. They are often assoicated with kings or royal families, and offer both the living and the dead a home. For the living, the descendents of those buried in barrows are able to point at the barrows as proof of their long-term [ownership of the land][dragur2]. For the dead, the barrows are home.

Because of this association, draugrs have often been called barrow-wights. This translation of draugr is from the mid-19th century.

Within these Old Norse myths, Draugrs lived in barrows, guarding their burial treasures. While they are not contained by the barrow (they will leave to raid sheep or humans) the artificial mounds are their homes. Even in more modern times, archeological excavations of Viking barrows caused locals to worry about draugrs attacking their livestock- or their loved ones.

The barrows represent a "liminal space", a place of crossover between the worlds of the living and the dead. Draugrs, living when and where they should not, represent beings between the living and the dead. They are the undead, whose hugr would not leave the body, returning by sheer will to continue to live.

A draugr's presence might be shown by a great light that glowed from the mound like foxfire.[15] This fire would form a barrier between the land of the living and the land of the dead.[16] The draugr could also move magically through the earth, swimming through solid stone as does Killer-Hrapp:

Then Olaf tried to rush Hrapp, but Hrapp sank into the ground where he had been standing and that was the end of their encounter.[6]

Hvammr, the Shadow Valley

Another liminal space of crossover between the living and the dead, the "Hvammr" is a geographic feature we might call a dell or valley. These valleys are surrounded by tall mountains, which cast shadows enough to keep the hvammr dark for weeks or months at a time:

Scandinavian draugar are further associated with certain types of landscapes, notably the "hvammr," "a short valley or dell, surrounded by mountains, but open on one side in one direction". Certain traditions record a tradition of the dead "dying into a mountain," equating this sort of mountain with a burial mound. The hvammr represented a boundary area between valley and mountain, between farm and burial mound, between the living and the dead. The hvammr, surrounded by tall mountains, would receive little direct sunlight, and none at all for several weeks in midwinter. Forsaeludale (literally, "Shadow Valley"), the site of Glamr's hauntings in Grettirs saga, was such a place.

Draugrs and Iron

A strange relationship between draugrs and iron is related in the Norse myths. Apparently the dead can be prevented from becoming draugrs if iron scissors (or swords?) were placed on the body after death. This prevented the hugr from returning to the body. Iron was also threatening to the draugr, as it could injure them:

Iron could injure a draugr, as is the case with many supernatural creatures, although it would not be sufficient to stop it. Sometimes the hero is required to dispose of the body in unconventional ways. The preferred method is to cut off the draugr's head, burn the body, and dump the ashes in the sea—the emphasis being on making absolutely sure that the draugr was dead and gone.

Iron was to be placed on the deceased body because draug, like other undead, vættir, and fea folk, hate iron. Iron was often used as a means of keeping the undead away by placing iron somewhere at the threshold.

Powers

The draugr have many magical powers, including incredible strength, shapeshifting, and more:

Draugar are noted for having numerous magical abilities (referred to as trollskap) resembling those of living witches and wizards, such as shape-shifting, controlling the weather, and seeing into the future. A draugr can change into a seal, a great flayed bull, a grey horse with a broken back but no ears or tail, and a cat that would sit upon a sleeper's chest and grow steadily heavier until the victim suffocated. The draugr Þráinn (Thrain) shape-shifted into a cat-like creature (kattakyn) in Hrómundar saga Gripssonar.

Draugar have the ability to enter into the dreams of the living, and they will frequently leave a gift behind so that "the living person may be assured of the tangible nature of the visit".[14] Draugar also have the ability to curse a victim, as shown in the Grettis saga, where Grettir is cursed to be unable to become any stronger. Draugar also brought disease to a village and could create temporary darkness in daylight hours. They preferred to be active during the night, although it did not appear to be vulnerable to sunlight like some other revenants. Draugr can also kill people with bad luck.

Some draugar are immune to weapons, and only a hero has the strength and courage needed to stand up to so formidable an opponent. In legends, the hero would often have to wrestle the draugr back to his grave, thereby defeating him, since weapons would do no good. A good example of this is found in Hrómundar saga Gripssonar.

The Draugr are even ascribed motivations:

The dead budy was a vehicle of plague and illness, such as that ofthe sorceror Mithothyn of Saxo Grammaticus, but in a day and age in which germ theory was unknown, the causative agent was perceived to be the evil intent of the draugr. Thus it followed that the dead might also make physical attacks against the living. The draugr was believed to feel a longing for the things of life, and even envy of those yet alive.

Blue

Famously, the draugr of myth were blue corpses:

The draugar were said to be either hel-blár ("death-blue") or nár-fölr ("corpse-pale").[7] The death-blue color was not actually grey but was a dark blue or maroon hue which covered the entire body. Glámr, the undead shepherd of Grettis saga, was reported to be dark blue,[19] and Laxdæla saga describes how bones were dug up belonging to a dead sorceress who had appeared in dreams, and they were "blue and evil looking."

In part III, I'll examine some famous draugrs in fiction from ancient epic sagas to modern fantasy writing.

#draugr #barrow-wights #asoiaf #hugor #hugr #tinfoil

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xxmisty · 6 years ago

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email [email protected] or send me an ask to buy a commission!

Hi everyone! I’m Mist, I’m a disabled transgender artist from the UK and I’m opening up commissions for the first time. I’ve been unable to work for the last couple of years but spent 2018 rebuilding my art skills after a long hiatus and I’m ready to take on some projects! I work in lots of different styles depending on what kind of art you're looking for. You can check my art tag for more examples of my work: http://xxmisty.tumblr.com/tagged/my-art

~ Special discounts available for the first few slots :) ~

I love drawing anything fandom related, and whilst i’m a member of a ton of different fandoms already i’m also more than happy to tackle projects for pretty much anything I’m familiar with and I'm happy to draw your OCs, fursonas (or other -sonas) etc :)

Prices:

Prices are an approximation because every piece of art is - and should be - different!

Prices start at £8/$10 for a quick outline sketch or £15/$19 - £20/$25 for shading or full colouring (like Spider-Gwen above), up to full portraits (like the thirteenth Doctor, above) for around £40/$50 (head & shoulders) or £70/$82 (full body in detail)

B/W detailed illustrations (like Hagrid) will cost between £15/$19 - £40/$50 depending on the situation, how many characters are involved, backgrounds etc.

Extra characters, backgrounds etc may alter prices.

Also available for icons, avatars, YT thumbnails, all kinds of illustrations

Basically, if you tell me what you want then I'll give you a definite price and pour my energy and effort into creating the art you want.

About Me:

My health has meant that I've been unable to work for the last two years and I'm struggling to make ends meet after facing a sharp rise in medical costs at the end of last year. I take on average 10 different medications per day, often needing in excess of 40 tablets every day plus various other medical devices to improve my quality of life. I suffer from fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, endometriosis, migraines, narcolepsy, cataplexy and a handful of other physical conditions as well as severe anxiety and PTSD. I'd still always managed to find a way to work to support myself but three years ago I developed meningitis for the first time which basically levelled my health at zero. Unfortunately that wasn't the last time either (I had no idea you could even have it more than once) and recurrent meningitis is still very poorly understood. I suffered several further bouts since then, the latest of which was in November last year. I've been left with permanent damage and both my sight and hearing are deteriorating. This is likely my last chance to make a living from my art.

I would be extremely grateful for any support... If you can't afford or don't want a commission that's absolutely fine! But reblog would definitely help a great deal. If you know of someone who's been looking for someone to buy a commission from perhaps you can nudge them my way ;)

I also have a ko-fi page so if you've enjoyed my art and have a couple of pounds or dollars to throw in the pot I'd be SO grateful! https://ko-fi.com/xxmisty

I 've also started a patreon and will be posting a bunch of extra unseen art there in the next few days: https://www.patreon.com/xxmisty

Any questions? Hit me up and I'll do my best to answer!

[email protected]

#commissions #commission #artists #commissions are open #open commissions #my art #about me #my health #i would be so grateful for any support guys #you're awesome

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thetreecorner · 6 years ago

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To Fall In Love With Emotions (Blankgameplays x fem!Reader) Part 1

Request?: Yep!

Requested by who?: @pastanestor

AU: N/A

Characters: Blank and Henrik

Warnings: Not that I can think of? A really badly written German accent (I do not mean to be offensive by the way I write Henrik’s accent. I listened to him speak and attempted to copy his dialect). Blank draws on his skin with a sharpie marker

Words: 1764

A/N: Okay so this comes from the idea that Blank was created by @the-wild-ego’s character Gear. A few other things before we get into this: The way Blank was created in this, is that Gear discovered what it would take to remove a human soul, and attempted to rip Blank’s soul from his body. While he failed to do so, the soul was severely damaged and he became a “Blank Slate”.

Unsatisfied with this result, Gear ‘threw him away’. After weeks of wandering, Blank was found by one of the Septics, who brought him in for Henrik to look at. Blank, in this, lives with the Septics.

Also this is only part one!

Blank.

Blank, blank, blank!

He took a sharpie to his skin, tracing from one freckle to the other to try and create… something.

Anything.

A distraction.

A freckle here.

A freckle there.

A line in between, a line through, a line around them. Twisting and turning.

These lines weren’t making any sense; then again, nothing really made much sense to Blank as of recent.

His heart often felt as if it was on fire, it felt - for once - like the soul his tormentor has so viciously tried to rip out of him was finally alive again.

He wasn’t too sure how to explain it. It felt like… he felt like… he could do anything.

Blank sighed, tossing away the pen, and attempting to rub away the ink from his skin. He wished he understood what he was feeling. All these… unnaturally natural senses that he was experiencing for the first time - or maybe not, he didn’t know.

He looked at the clock - the doc would be here any minute, probably to check his vitals again. Blank was getting tired of getting his vitals checked. He knew he was healthy. He knew his blood pressure was good, that his ears were clean, that his reflexes were just a smidge bit slow, but nowhere as slow as Robbie’s.

He wanted to know about his soul, but Henrik said the soul wasn’t his area of expertise. Blank wasn’t sure what the doc’s expertise was. He wasn’t very sure he wanted to find out.

No, the soul was Marvin’s area - and bless the magician, but Blank couldn’t help but wonder if he could be any slower at finding a solution. Blank yearned for… Well, he wasn’t exactly sure.

What Blank was sure about about though was that this feeling could be nothing good - he hadn’t felt any good feeling other than content since he could remember, and he couldn’t remember very much.

Sadness. He felt that often, though he didn’t know why. He felt it while he was in the shower, or while laying in bed alone. He felt it while he ate breakfast and while he helped the others cook dinner.

He felt bored, too. He never had much to do other than eat, or drink, or sleep. He didn’t feel much like reading, regardless of how many times Henrik, or Jamie, or even Chase suggested it. And he didn’t want to go out much. The looks people threw his way made him uncomfortable, and Blank would rather be bored than uncomfortable.

Yes, people tend to stare, but he could understand. He had a feeling the darkness of his eyes, and the paleness of his skin threw others off. He felt as if he was some freak who belonged in horror movies, though the Septics all told him he looked just fine. A bit rough around the edges, but just fine.

He didn’t want to look just fine, though. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to look like, but he did know one thing - he liked the solitude of the Septic household. No one to stand around and judge. A whole group of others just like him. He didn’t feel so alone.

Then there was her. One of Chase’s good friends, who came over rather often, and who’d known about the “egos” for a very long time (according to Marvin, she had a few egos of her own of whom liked to cause a ton of mischief).

Blank didn’t know exactly what an ego was. He knew the basics - they all belonged to a certain group. The Septics. The Ipliers. The Battles. And those in a group, like the men he lived with, all looked exactly the same.

Blank didn’t know which group he belonged to, but he wasn’t too worried about finding it. As far as he knew, Gear was in that group, and Blank wanted nothing to do with that machine ever again.

He also knew that, the egos had an “original” - the Ipliers had Markiplier, the Septics Jacksepticeye, so on, and so on, and so on. Some originals knew about the egos, like Mark and Jack. Blank wasn’t sure if his original (Henrik once called him Ethan) knew about them, but that didn’t bother him either way.

The burning in his heart bothered him. It seemed to consume him from the inside out, licking at his skin and yearning to break free.

His thoughts were broken when Henrik entered the room, which had been designated as Blank’s very own room (not like the cage Gear had kept him in), with a clipboard and blood pressure cuff.

Blank wordlessly lifted his arm, and without looking Henrik fastened the cuff around his upper arm.

“Good morning, Blank.” Henrik greeted while he did his work. His eyes never left the clipboard, but Blank didn’t say a word. He let the doc do his work, scribbling down numerous numbers and words before finally bringing his gaze to the young ego.

“You are writing on your skin again?” Henrik didn’t like when Blank did that. He always claimed it was because of blood poisoning, but Blank knew it was because Schneep didn’t understand the lines either.

“Didn’t even notice.” Blank’s joke was flat, and bland, like most things he said, but Henrik gave a small smile anyway. Blank guessed it was because he was at least trying. Trying was all he could do at this point.

“Vell, I would suggest you stop zat. It can lead to a very bad case of blood poisoning.”

“I know, doc.” Blank attempted a smile, showing more teeth than was necessary, and Henrik chuckled.

“If you know, zen why do you do it?” He took his stethoscope and lifted the back of Blank’s shirt. “Deep breath, please.” Blank did as he was told.

“I don’t know.” Henrik moved around to place the cold metal against the centre of Blank’s chest.

“Again.” Henrik moves the stethoscope around a couple more times before putting it back around his neck.

“I wish I knew.” Blank sighed, holding out his arm so that Henrik could take a blood sample. He and Marvin had been attempting to find out what Gear had done to him, and if there was anyway to fix it, or at least help piece together Blank’s past.

“Vell, whenever you feel like doing it again maybe try somezing a little less… permanent.” Blank looked back down at the dark lines on his arms.

What the hell do they mean.

“I will keep that in mind.” Blank agreed, waiting for Henrik to get a bandage. He poked gently at the blood, to which Henrik slapped his hand away.

“Don’t do zat.” He scolded him. Blank said nothing, wiping the small drop of blood off on his dark colored pants.

“Is Marvin coming by today?”

“Nein, he has some business he needs to attend to today. Vill you be alright?” Blank frowned. Marvin was a sort of… therapist. Blank could usually describe how he was “feeling” and Marvin did his best to make sense of it, both in a logical and a magical way. Marvin told him that any information could help them towards a solution. It helped Blank a great deal to have someone he could tell things, without judgement.

“I… I don’t know.” Blank shook his head gently.

“Is somezing wrong, Blank?” Henrik set aside his clipboard and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. Blank shook his head again.

“It’s nothing, doc. Just… thinking.”

“Well, I might not be Marvin, but if you vould like, I’m here to listen.” Blank pursed his lips. He and the doc were close. Blank would consider him a very good friend, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure what made a good friend.

Curse that damn cyborg bitch-

“Do you ever feel like your heart is on fire?” Blank stares down at Henrik’s shoes, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt.

“How do you mean? Does it hurt?” Blank could hear the worry in his friend’s voice.

“No, no. Not… hurt. It… aches, I guess. But it’s not painful. Not yet. It actually makes me feel… alive again?” The idea scared Blank. Yes, he would like nothing more than to feel alive again - but not like this. Not with emotions he didn’t understand.

“How so?”

“Well, doc. How… I don’t exactly know how to explain it.” This was how most of his and Marvin’s sessions went. Blank would make a vague remark about his thoughts, Marvin would ask what he meant, and Blank would scrap his mind to find an answer only to turn up… blank.

“Take your time, Blank. Ve have time.”

Blank took in a deep breath. Maybe it would be better to not think before he spoke, this time around.

“I don’t exactly remember anything before the incident. There’s faint flashes of memories, here and there. I don’t see any faces, I don’t hear any voices. But I remember how I felt. And those feelings… it’s like they’re happening all over again. Doc, I… I feel such adoration.” He wasn’t sure what the word meant exactly. But, out of all the thoughts in his head, this was the clearest.

Adoration.

What the hell is adoration?

“Adoration? If I may ask, for what?” Blank thought hard, scouring his brain for anything that could cause it. He shook his head gently.

“I don’t know. I just get so flustered, and I can’t stop myself from yearning to feel it more, but it’s so fleeting.” Blank wondered if the strain he put on his words exhibited the emotions he wanted them to, that the broken part of him would hold together just this once.

“Vell, I am no therapist, but, uh…” The Doctor’s face twisted into one of deep concentration as he rubbed gently against the scruff on his face. After a long, silent moment, the german man let out a sigh - whether it be from frustration, or from being tired, Blank would never know. The doctor was usually both. “Vhen you feel this adoration again, try to notice your surroundings. Where you are, what you are doing, who’d there with you. Do that every time, and eventually you should get some kind of idea who, or what, you adoration is for.”

“What if I forget?”

“Vell, that is all up to you mien friend.” Henrik clapped Blank’s shoulder, startling the young man, and gave him a smile. “I believe in you.” Blank attempted to return the smile, though the best he could get was a small twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, Henrik.”

#blankgameplays x reader #blank x reader #blankgameplays #blank #x reader #reader insert #youtube egos #crankgameplays egos #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magician #septic egos #female reader #youtube egos imagine #reese writes #tree writes #my writing

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draco-omega · 6 years ago

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10 months ago, I decided to make a game.

10 months later, I have a bunch of art and a bunch of interface code and a whole pile of design notes, and not much game.

This is my story.

(Now in bullet point form so that I can stop redrafting it >.>)

I have a treatment-resistant anxiety disorder which significantly interferes with my ability to work - both on my own projects and other things that might be called 'gainful employment'. (I still feel some shame at admitting this so bluntly, even though I feel ideologically that there should be no more shame in this than any physical impairment that resulted in the same. Fuck mental health stigma, defining self-worth by employment is toxic capitalist dogma, etc, etc.)

In part because of this, I had been effectively unemployed and living with my mother for a number of years. (I still did my best to hammer out projects, but nothing, y'know, actually PAID anything... >.>)

Then in late 2017, my mother died (somewhat unexpectedly) of cancer, which left me with no home (we'd been sharing an apartment that she had been covering most of the rent on) and literally zero income. Obviously grief and upheaval did not help with any of my prior difficulties managing employment, either.

After some debate, I decided to combine the savings I had left over from my last stint as a network administrator with a (modest) inheritance from my mother and try to actually make a living at making games. This is something I had always theoretically wanted to do, but never put actual money on the line for. (Okay, in a perfect world, I'd happily give all my work away for free and live on some minimum guaranteed income, but we do not yet live in such a world).

One of my historically biggest gamedev weaknesses was a lack of artistic ability, so this seemed a perfect thing to put money towards. I could hire an artist, which would not only allow me to make a more commercially appealing product, but would also free me up to focus on the mechanical and writing aspects of gamedev, which are the areas I most wanted to be working on and also consider myself best at. (Any followers that remember my work on ToK may recall me complaining there about how it seemed I spent my time on nothing but graphics? >.>

This was shortly after Touhou fangames had been given the official blessing to be sold on Steam, and some had already achieved great success there, so this seemed like a good way to create some instant appeal and interest in my game, while working with a franchise that I already loved to death and had written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction for (eg: This or that or this other thing)

And so Chronicle of False History was born!

...and yet I somehow still spent most of my time working on art. You see, having never worked with an actual artist before, I underestimated a number of things:

1) I underestimated how much work it would be to find a suitable artist in the first place (though at least this part is done)

2) I gravely underestimated how much of my time would be spent on 'art direction' or 'project management' or whatever you want to call it.

Every sprite that is created, even for canonical character designs, requires making a large number of decisions regarding:

What attack and spell poses it will have (and how to cover the broadest range of signature abilities with just two 'frames', for budget reasons)

Which of enumerable (and sometimes mutually-exclusive) costume details from canon (and fanon) should be selected (and do you have any idea just how many variations there are on things as straightforward as 'the hilt of Miko's sword'?)

Gathering a pile of reference images that clearly detail every element of the character (and action poses) to be drawn (which is also harder than you might think; a lot of art is sufficiently suggestive of details to view without actually being a good reference to reproduce and anything that isn't exactly what I'm looking for risks my artist misunderstanding my request entirely)

Designing alternate-history variants of this character in a way that can be clearly conveyed with minimal costume and color changes alone (as any significant redrawing would cost far more and the cast of the game is so large already) and doing so before the part of the game they would appear in is even written.

Gathering reference images for all of those things

Writing up a detailed description of all the decisions listed above (and often drawing actual diagrams of action poses and projectile overlays that are ambiguous to express with just words) and handing it over to my artist

Waiting a while, then getting sketches back and finding out that there is inevitably a whole pile of things that need changing (either because the artist misunderstood my request entirely - despite all that previous effort - or because an idea of mine looked far better in my own head than it does, or just the usual 'incremental improvements' to something that is on the right track but not quite there - like a sort of collaborative redrafting.)

Spending hours poking at these sketches in an image editor, testing how well individual details resolve at in-game size, how well the action frames snap together, and how I feel about each questionable element. This often extends to (crudely) adjusting and readjusting the position and angle of individual limbs and eyebrows and projectiles that feel 'off' so that I can figure out what I would like her to do with them (and whether it's even worth making her take the effort to do anything with them at all)

Finally, summarizing that feedback into a detailed list of change requests (often with new diagrams to clarify my words) and repeating the last two steps over and over and over again.

Like, she does great work - don't get me wrong. I'm very pleased with the end results and this is just an inevitable part of the process of making something professional. But it does also mean that my original idea that paying an artist would free me up to work on things other than art has been... laughable in retrospect, to say the very least. In fact, it's very possible that a greater percentage of my dev time is spent on art-related tasks than on previous projects where I was doing all the art myself - I just get better art for my trouble (and money....)

This is especially true given that:

3) I underestimated just how much art work I would still need to do completely independently of her

Raven is doing character sprites. These are arguably the most individually important art content in the game, and certainly the ones that give it the most screenshot appeal, but that has left me to do everything else. Which has included:

Figuring out how to make battle backgrounds that passably match the art style of the game (since commissioning enough of these to fill all the locations needed would absolutely blow my budget)

Designing the entire look and feel of the combat screen to mesh well with Raven's sprites while also being something I am personally capable of making (using only cheap/free resources)

Creating all tweened animations and particle effects

Designing every single little UI element that exists in the game:

Elemental symbols

Dialogue boxes

Spellcard icons (and the entire menu design that requires them in the first place)

Combat action menus

Icons to indicate spellcard usability

Spellcard tooltips

Targeting overlays

A turn order bar

Spellcard availability reminders

Font choice for damage/healing numbers, spellcard names,

More cursors that you can shake a stick at

Lots more stuff, I'm sure

And even the completed sprites I get from Raven still need multiple hours of processing each to split them into component parts with sufficient information to re-composite and animate in-game. (If you've ever wondered why my screenshots seem to only involve Nazrin while I've already shown sprites for multiple other characters, this is why)

It never ends!!

...which is a fact that has been extremely draining. Like, it is probably difficult to overstate just how demoralizing it has been to pay this much money and work this hard and long and still somehow be mostly doing art (or visual-related coding) when I naively thought this project would offer some freedom from this after the endless, endless hours I spent doing this for ToK.

And it has also revealed a very tangible (and extremely stressful and troubling) fact about this game's development:

I am going to run out of money before I am remotely close to having a saleable product

When I first laid out plans for this project, I ballparked a modest but realistic budget for the artwork. I chose an art style that could provide pleasing visuals for a very large cast of characters at a cost-effective rate (for a game, at least). I deliberately limited my cast size based upon the agreed-upon cost per character with my artist (and have repeatedly held myself back from various fun ideas because I felt I simply could not afford to make a habit of such things). I studied sales figures for comparable games to aim for a target that had a reasonable probability of sufficient return (or at least breaking even). Game development is always a gamble, of course, but I felt (and still feel) that I made a sensible budget call and it was an amount I was fully able to pay.

But in all this, I neglected to factor in what has been, by far, my most costly development expense: remaining alive.

You see, at the rate my artist is able to produce work, the cost of retaining her is utterly dwarfed by such banal things as food and rent and not freezing to death in the winter. I live about as modest a lifestyle as possible - a one-room apartment, no car, no eating out, nothing in the way of luxuries (I don't even own a cell phone) - but that is still awfully expensive when you have no income and no prospect of it in the immediate future either.

It's a vicious cycle. The less work I get done, the more I feel future financial pressures breathing down my neck, the less work I'm able to get done (due to stress and general demoralization), the more I feel future financial pressures, etc, etc, etc.

And there's a logistical problem even outside of my own stress and anxiety and being damnably human in my need for actual rest: I've spent nearly 10 months working together with my artist and thus have a pretty good sense of how fast she's able to get character art done. And unless something changes dramatically, the time required for her to finish the art assets for the game will be several years longer than I will have any savings left to pay for them - because, as it turns out, hiring an artist is actually a tiny expense compared to merely continuing to exist.

I... don't really have a good answer for this problem and I've spent a lot of time consumed by it at this point. I have faith that Chronicle of False History can be a great game... eventually. But that does no one any good if I can't stay afloat long enough to make it. I've considered pivoting to another smaller-scope game project in the meantime, in the hopes of generating some modest influx of cash that could be used to fund the rest of CoFH's development, but there are a whole slew of reasons this is dicey (not least of which is that small-scope projects have a tendency to not be nearly as small as one anticipates...)

I've also thought about exploring Patreon, but like... I'm fully aware that I don't currently produce nearly enough interesting content for people to just want to throw money at. Tantalizing glimpses of it, perhaps. The promise that in the future I might. But what do I really have to show for this at the moment?

And so, here I am, exhausted by a marathon of work I did not properly anticipate and without the tangible reward I'd expected to have by this point (not a finished game, by any means, but like... much more of one than I actually have). And every month that passes by in which I get less done on my game than anticipated is yet more cash bleeding out of my bank account, like I'm trapped on a badly leaking boat with no shore in sight. I need a rest from all these stressors (and some more personal ones not described here), but when time spent not working has itself become a stressor these days, where can I even find it?

...wow, this sure sounded upbeat, huh?

In any case, I still care a lot about CoFH and have no intention of stopping work on it. I just... need to figure out some way to allow myself to continue to do so without this enormous capitalist behemoth crushing me beneath it.

(I had originally intended to provide more of an overview of the useful work accomplished over these past 10 months here, with mockups showing the evolution of the game's visual design, but clearly that goes into a future post at this point).

#Chronicle of False History #Gamedev #Game Development #CoFH #Personal (Kinda)#What; surely posting a massive wall of text at 5 in the morning is _completely sensible_#And not at all inane #I am... tired #But these sure are words #So many words #I apologize if I drown anyone in them

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wonderalwaysland · 3 years ago

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...

I have this confession to make, that I still measure myself based on how much I’ve accomplished. I don’t do or think about it every day and I know it’s wrong to do so and it harms me but I can’t help but do so sometimes. It comes out unexpectedly and hurts actually. And rn I feel like crying, I’m hurting ig. Maybe it happens when my life goes a bit not the way I wanted to or just when I’m feeling emotional, but we always have emotions tho.

I have several reasons in mind as to why I’m feeling like this. One of them that I don’t draw enough. I can’t help but procrastinate and spend time in the phone doing various things. Another reason is I still haven’t got the job and I want to go to drawing classes somewhere, but admission time is soon to be closed and I have no money to pay for it, and my parents are already tough with money, yeah sometimes I feel useless to them (I don’t want to b;ame them but they disregard my accomplishments pretty often, I used to say it’s fine and I’m used to it, but now I see that it actually hurts as hell, and ig I still have this feeling of being useless or idk how to describe it. They would say to me that I my worl is not hard enough that I can do better, and I know I could maybe if I deemed it as worthy. But if I find sth not worth spending my efforts on I wouldn’t be going out of my way to do it the best I can. So if we consider it from the point of view that I wasted my efforts to do it at all I’ve out some work, right? And they tell that I’m ungrateful sometimes and have no sense of responsibility, u know everybody has to be f*cking ReSponSible and do their freaking duties and it’s nothing to be praised for.) It has always been so irritating to me and has often caused us to have this falling outs. Now I just keep my thoughts to myself and go my own way or trying to at least. I admit that my parents are right to some extent but why should they always cause us these negative emotions, not only they do this to us(Imean my siblings and me) first of all they are doing this to themselves too. I mean I can survive the fact that they see me as someone irresponsible and childish yet expect sth cool and great from me.But it’s their expectations that are failed not mine when the results aren’t so great. And as such they rarely tell that they love us or that they are glad that we are born or anything. It feels like they gave birth to us only because it was their f*cking duty and to have their desires fulfilled through us( I mean my mum always complained that grandma didn’t take her to any extracurricular activities and that she couldn’t get the major she wanted and etc, so now she does all these things she wanted grandma had done to her. BUt obviously it’s just an excuse for her to not do what she wants to(and I’ve no idea what she wants to do now already, seems like she doesn’t understand it either or just doesn;t see us worthy talking to us about that cuz we are her kids) as she thinks that u can do sth only if u have a talent and still she insists that we work hard(esp my sis whose major is medicine rn), I wonder where her logic lies sometimes. ANyway it’s obvious she runs from her ownself.

Yeah all this turned into my complaining about my parents. BUt I’m healing and I hope one day they’ll see things in different light, for now I don;t want to waste myself trying to persuade about things they don;t quite want to listen, esp coming from me, their child who doesn’t have much experience in life and therefore has no right to teach them how to live and sometimes even state her opinion. Yeah it f*cking hurts.

But I better concentrate on myself. I love myself now even tho I can;t help but be a bit disappointed in myself, but I’m working on it and building my better self bit by bit. I’m weak but I want to be strong, I’m coward but I want to be brave, I’m lazy but I want to be more productive, I;m timid but I want to be confident. I feel that I;ve had a considerable progress and now I feel much better and more positive about life in general, not just daydreaming anymore.And I’ll keep going even if the steps are tiny it’s still worth it and I have a whole life ahead so I gotta enjoy it and do my thang. Amen

p.s. Loves and hugs to my future and past self I’ll always love u the most, no matter what <3 xoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxxoxoxxoxoxxoxxoxoxoo

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lickstynine · 7 years ago

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Happy Holigays

This is a sequel to my Secret Santa gift from @builder051, featuring young! Min and Kazu. Make sure to read it first, cause it sets the scene for this. I really loved it, and had to build (ha get it) off it. I know it’s set on Christmas and I’m like a week and a half late, but... I don’t really give a fuck. it’s all fiction anyway. Enjoy.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when the two finally made their way to bed. Kazu pulled Min against his chest, keeping the small blond from falling off mattress's edge. The old twin bed was far too small for two people, and nearly half a foot too short for Kazu, but as the alternative was a park bench, he really didn't care. Burying his face in Min's bleach-blond fluff, Kazu started to doze off, the exhaustion of fever taking a toll on his battered body.

As Christmas morning rolled around, Minato got up bright and early; the bakery was closed today, but he still wanted time to have breakfast and watch the snow fall outside. Settling in at one of the small tables out front, he gazed out the big glass window, nibbling on warm, fresh pancakes and sipping hot chocolate. Normally he would have milk or tea with breakfast, but fuck it, it's Christmas.

There was a sharp chill in the air - the bakery didn't have a very good heater, it usually relied on the running ovens for warmth. Shivering slightly, Min stole a throw blanket off the couch, wrapping it around himself like a cape. He made his way back to the kitchen, cleaning off the griddle he'd made pancakes on and setting it aside. He turned instead to the kettle, pouring more hot water into a new packet of cocoa mix. He had the ingredients to make it from scratch, but he was feeling as lazy as he was indulgent.

Grabbing a candy cane from the jar on the counter, and a few cookies from the plate next to it, Min settled on the couch, turning on the TV, but leaving the volume low so as not to bother Kazu. He had a feeling his boyfriend would still be in pretty poor shape today, and Min wondered whether he had the ingredients to make chicken soup. Shrugging to himself, he cozied up under his blanket; soup wouldn't matter for at least a few more hours - Kazu wouldn't be up before noon unless the house was on fire.

Min was deep into some tired old hallmark movie when footsteps behind him alerted him to his boyfriend's presence. Kazu had dragged the comforter out of bed with him, and he shuffled over to the couch, dropping down next to Minato with a groan.

"Hi sweetie." The tiny blond ventured, "how are you feeling?"

"Shitty." Kazu's voice was barely there, a hoarse shadow of his usual deep baritone. He felt like he was dying - a hangover and a high fever were a nasty combination, and the added pain in his hurt wrist didn't help. He closed his eyes, the dim light of the old TV aggravating his headache.

Minato frowned sympathetically, scooting over to cozy up against his boyfriend. He ran a hand through Kazu's messy hair, loosening some of the tangles with his small, nimble fingers. Despite how quiet the dark-haired boy was being, Min could tell he was miserable, and tried to think what he might do to help. "I'm gonna go to the kitchen. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Mm." Kazu nodded vaguely; it was unsure whether he actually heard Min, or was just pretending to listen. Either way, the tiny blond shuffled off, reheating the kettle and putting a pot on the stove. Minato ended up being gone nearly forty minutes. Kazu started to grow bored, opening one eye to scan the tiny living room. The shitty hallmark movie was currently on a commercial, which was debatably more entertaining than the film itself.

There were two presents hiding under the tree in the corner. Well, 'tree' was a generous term. It was a cone of cardboard wrapped in green tinsel, with dollar store ornaments stuck around it; Kazu had assembled it a few weeks ago, when Min broke down crying upon realizing they couldn't afford a tree. Kazu knew what one of the gifts was - the large, flat envelope concealed a portrait he'd spent weeks on, of him and Min in their favourite garden. He assumed the wrapped box to be holding something equally cheap and symbolic - perhaps some homemade jewelry, or a crocheted blanket. He couldn't know for sure, though. Min had been intensely secretive about the whole gifting process, wanting them both to be surprised on Christmas. Kazu couldn't help but feel a little guilty; he stayed in Min's house, ate his food, wasted his time, and all he had to offer was a drawing. It was an excellent piece of art, but it still felt worthless compared to all that Minato gave him.

His focus on the tree started to blur, and Kazu stretched out on the couch, grimacing and groaning as he struggled to get comfortable. His whole body ached, and there was an intense pain lingering in his right hand. He couldn't even remember what he'd done to hurt it last night, but it had to have been nasty. He was just glad it hasn't been his shoulder again; it still hadn't quite recovered from the last dislocation, and was also aching quite a bit with the aggravation of illness. Kazu closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his good hand. His body was such a wreck - it'd be a miracle if he made it to thirty at this rate. He wondered if he even wanted to make it to thirty.

Kazu's morbid train of thought was cut short by the cheery voice of his boyfriend. Minato had returned, bearing soup, tea, and painkillers. Kazu sat up, reaching first for the pills, downing them dry before grabbing the tea to ease his sore throat. "You're the best, babe." He croaked, "is your church still doing the saint thing? Cause you should be one."

Minato giggled, rolling his eyes and sitting down next to his boyfriend. "I'm not that great. Besides, I think you have to actually be a devout Catholic to be a saint. I haven't even been to church since I was like seventeen."

"Eh, you're better'n those stuffy old fucks in my book." Kazu shrugged, wincing regretfully at the twinge in his bad shoulder. He wondered if it was acting up because he was sick and achy, or if he'd messed it up again last night, and just been too wasted to notice. He set his tea aside after a few sips, tugging the comforter around himself with a shiver.

Min frowned in concern. Kazu was normally very resilient to the cold; just last week, he'd been hanging out in this same chilly room in his boxers. For him to be shivering, he had to be seriously ill. Minato pressed a hand to Kazu's forehead, his icy fingers absorbing the heat as it radiated off his boyfriend. "Don't drink any more tea for a bit. I need to check your temperature."

"Won't the meds 've kicked in?"

"Not that fast." Min explained, climbing to his feet to find the thermometer. It was still on the bathroom counter, left over from last night. He tucked it into the sleeve of his sweater, stopping in the kitchen for a cookie before returning to Kazu. The dark-haired boy was curled up on the couch, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed. Min flapped his sleeves in concern, almost losing the thermometer in the process. Though he'd taken care of hurt Kazu many times, he'd never seen his boyfriend sick before, and it was worrying on a different level. He sat back down on the couch, fidgeting anxiously as he looked over at the dark-haired troublemaker.

Turning to the Hallmark movie to keep himself occupied, Min still found himself glancing obsessively at his phone, checking it every thirty or so seconds until enough time had passed. After about fifteen minutes, he picked up the thermometer, reaching over to stick it in Kazu's mouth. The dark-haired boy mumbled something unintelligible, likely a dick joke, and Minato poked his nose.

"Hush."

The mercury crept slowly up the thin glass tube, and after a moment, Min gently retrieved it, squinting in the dim light to make out the tiny numbers. "One oh... oh my god..." His jaw dropped, and his sleeves began flapping again. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"You're stressing too much, babe. 'S just a fever. I always run hot, it ain't as bad as it looks." Kazu wasn't actually sure of that, but he was an excellent liar, and he put his good hand on Min's shoulder to further reassure his tiny boyfriend.

Minato sighed, still waving his sleeves as he spoke. "Okay, but if you're not feeling better tomorrow, doctor."

"Sure. That's fine." Kazu knew he could talk his way out of it, even if he was literally on fire tomorrow. Min was soft and naive and relentlessly optimistic; just saying "It's okay" was often enough to win him over.

"Good." Min tried to think of something more cheerful. "Do you feel up to opening presents?"

Kazu nodded, "Yea, why not. You first."

Minato hurried over to the tree, grabbing both gifts and setting them on the coffee table. He picked up his present, working his finger under the flap of the envelope to unstick the glue rather than tearing it. After a bit of fiddling, he pulled out a large sheet of heavy drawing paper, filled with easily forty hours' worth of intricate graphite.

Min's eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. "It's beautiful..." he beamed, "I love it." He tucked it very carefully back into the envelope, making sure not to bend or smudge it. "I'll find a frame tomorrow when the stores are open. I want to put it up on the wall."

"Eh, it ain't that great..." Kazu shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise.

"Are you kidding? You're such a good artist, it's crazy." Min scooped up the box now, offering it to his boyfriend. "Come on. Open yours. I got a great present, now it's your turn."

Kazu struggled with the wrapping for a moment; it was hard to untie a bow one-handed. Once he'd loosed the ribbon, he tore into the paper, lifting the cardboard lid without much expectation. As he focused on the gift inside, Kazu let out an audible gasp. It was a sleek leather jacket, sturdy and warm, with a hooded inner layer. He recognized it immediately, and felt a pang of guilt in his chest; it must've cost Min two months' savings at least.

"Do you like it? I remember you ogling it when we were window shopping last month." Minato smiled softly, hugging his boyfriend's closer arm.

Kazu nodded, barely able to force out the words. "I... I love it. Thank you."

"I thought you might. God knows you need a new one." Minato mused, his mind drifting to Kazu's old jacket. An amalgamation of fleece and denim, it was once black, but had faded to grey, and was more patches and cigarette burns than fabric. Though originally quite warm, it had long worn thin, and was well overdue for a replacement.

"Well, yeah, but... It's expensive..." Kazu's scratchy voice wavered in distress. "I didn't spend shit on you..." he mumbled shamefully.

Minato rolled his eyes. "I know that. You think I care? I love you, and I don't want you freezing to death. It doesn't matter if you repay me."

Kazu shook his head, too exhausted to argue. “You’re crazy, babe.” He croaked, carefully folding the jacket back into the box before setting it aside.

“Crazy for you.” Min corrected, climbing into Kazu’s lap. “Mm… you’re nice and warm.”

“No shit,” Kazu rolled his eyes, “I gotta fever.”

Minato shrugged. “At least you’re good for cuddling.” He tugged the comforter over them both, cozying up in Kazu’s lap.

The dark-haired boy wanted to protest. Despite having taken medicine, he was only feeling worse, and he’d been planning to retreat back to the bedroom after presents. The pounding in his head and churning in his stomach had him ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but when Min let out a tiny content sigh, Kazu knew his fate was sealed. He’d be on the couch for the foreseeable future whether he liked it or not. Not that Minato wouldn’t have moved if Kazu asked, but because Kazu couldn’t bring himself to ask. He knew the tiny blond was happy and comfortable, and he’d already been enough of a thorn in Min’s side this Christmas. He could suck it up and be sick later.

Stuck on the couch with nothing to do but think, Kazu couldn't help but reflect on his gift. Was he a piece of shit for accepting an expensive present from Minato, when he already stayed at the bakery rent-free? Or did stuff like that stop mattering if you were dating the person in question? Should he have worked more last month, and maybe wasted a little less cash on his own vices, so he could get Min a real gift? Min had seemed pleased with the drawing, but maybe he was faking it…

No. Minato couldn't tell a lie to save his life, and he was very easy to please. If he said he liked something, he did. Kazu twisted his hair around the fingers of his good hand, the voices in his head still debating about how he was a piece of shit who didn't deserve Min, much less nice gifts from him. A shaky sigh rattled out of Kazu, and the seemingly distracted Min leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“If you don't feel good, go back to bed. We can do something together when you feel better.”

The dark-haired boy blinked in surprise, looking down at Minato through bleary eyes. “Are ya sure? I already crashed your Christmas Eve, I don't wanna make today suck, too.”

Min rolled his eyes, gently booping Kazu’s nose with his fingertip. “I don't care what day it is, stupid. I just want you to feel better. I'll be happy whenever we get to do stuff.”

“You… you will?”

“Of course I will.” Min nodded, wrapping his arms gently around his boyfriend. “You need to get some rest. Are you more comfortable here or in bed?”

Kazu just shrugged; both the couch and bed were too short for him, it was really just a matter of laziness - did he want to get up, or stay where he was?

“I won't move you then.” Minato decided, pecking Kazu on the cheek again before climbing to his feet. “I should make sure the kitchen is ready for tomorrow. Just call if you need anything.”

“Mm.” Kazu nodded, more dismissive than acknowledging as he curled up on the couch. He didn't need anything aside from sleep, and he knew Min would be careful not to bother him.

Min leaned down over the couch, making sure Kazu was well tucked in before walking off. “Sleep well, sweetie. Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“Yea… love you, too.”

#whump #illness #fever #cold #kazuhiro #yokota #minato #kurosawa #some real gay shit #builder051

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thesundaymorningpost · 7 years ago

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The Sunday Morning Post

August 13, 2017 7th Edition

Current News: YoI Appreciation day, was August 11 & 12th.

“fandom-wide day of creator appreciation is a day (or in this case, a set of days) dedicated to showing how grateful we are to the people who create, and how much we admire their hard work and dedication to the fandom and to their craft. this includes but is not limited to the following medias: fic, art, graphics, edits, music, meta, translations, fsts, amvs, rpers, event organizers, and bakers.” - @katsukifatale

It’s been a couple days of love and support shown all around. Something that is especially important when the rest of the world seems to be having in a crisis of hate. Keep spreading the love and appreciation everyday!

Story Recommendations:

Pole-Mance by SeptiplierIsMyFire

When a 25-year-old MALE pole-dancer, Mark Edward Fischbach (stage name: Markiplier), starts another day in his sinful job, he's feeling meek. Problem with being a male dancer was, that he, himself, was gay.

However, he encounters one of his first ever man to be there during one of shows, and instantly feels infatuated with the fellow male stranger. He can't help but notice how broken he looks, and is shocked when he finds the 25-year-old, attractive, Sean William McLoughlin, had been lead here by his girlfriend and harshly dumped for one of the dancers.

Mark is greedy and quick-on-his-feet to woo Sean, just in time to catch him before he falls. Though with that being said, a relationship in which one would be flirted with by countless ladies on a daily basis wouldn't work; so Mark has to make a choice...

Will it be his work, or will he choose to quit and live happily with his newfound lover?

Pole-Mance is the kind of story you remember long after you've finished it. It was such a great love story, written in the most beautiful of words, that it's strangely one of the most underrated fanfictions in the Septiplier fandom. I recommend this for anyone who likes a long, feelsy story. - @introduceyourlipstominememecrew

Artist Spotlight:

Yuri Plisetsky by @eclair

Comic:

Groot #6 written by Jeff Loveness; art by Brian Kesinger (Click title to reblog)

Support:

This week’s Ko-Fi shout-out goes to Salmon @iamatrashfan (Click Salmon to donate)

Hello, Salmon's here. I'm a freelance artist who loves to draw stuff~

Zine: Terra Incognita by Main organizer: Yuuya @nakutan & Co-organizer: Kusid @kusid Unknown Land. A Yuri!!! on ICE fanbook about traveling and social media.

Redbubble: Juntwei (Click to Purchase) @juntwei

Fun and Games: Send me an Emoji by @goblintoast (Click title to reblog)

💌: I’d love to send you more messages and asks but you make me nervous!

😊: You’re sweet. You’ve made me smile before.

🙏: I’m a little afraid that you’ll unfollow me.

🔪: I’d hate to get on your bad side.

😶: I’m honored that you’re even following me tbH.

👾: Your theme is awesome!

🌄: GO TO BED.

💉: Talking to you or seeing you on my dash makes me feel better.

😐: I don’t understand half the things you reblog but I support you anyway.

🌑: You come off as cold, impersonal.

👒: You come off as very friendly!

🌃: I’d like to spend more time talking to you.

🎭: You sure do get into a lot of drama…

😄: I can always count on you to like/reply to my personal posts.

🍥: Your aesthetic is very streamlined. It’s clear you’re picky about the stuff you reblog.

🍬: You’re sweet, but I feel like I know very little about you as a person.

🐟: Your blog isn’t quite my “type.”

😅: I often worry about upsetting you or scaring you off.

😇: Every single interaction we’ve had so far has been positive.

🐱: You’re cute‼︎

🌱: I’d love to get to know you better.

☔️: You seem unhappy.

😃: I love seeing you in my notifications!

🐸: You act goofy.

💻: Are you ever not online?

❄️: Your BYF struck me as kind of harsh, but I followed you anyway.

😆: You’ve made me laugh out loud before.

💔: You’ve disappointed me before.

📺: We have similar interests!

🔈: We have similar tastes in music.

🌊: You have a lot of personality.

😀: I would consider us friends.

🎀: We have similar aesthetics!

🍳: This is an egg in a frying pan!

🎉: I get really happy when I see positive personal posts from you, even when I don’t fully understand the context!

😈: I know your secret~

🌴: I’m jealous of you.

✨: Could you, like, chill a little bit maybe? Like in general? Please?

🎶: I associate you with a specific song or musician.

👟: I feel as though you’re out of my league.

🐚: I find your blog very calming.

👀: I’ve vagued about you before.

🍰: I might recognize you if I ran into you on the street.

😂: I’m comfortable around you.

🌈: Sometimes I see your selfies and think to myself: “I’m gay.”

🌹: I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you.

😓: I’ve talked to you before and it made me a nervous!

👑: You’re vain.

📝: I know a lot about you just from following you on Tumblr.

🌙: You’re beautiful.

🍓: You remind me of someone…

😒: I honestly don’t know why I’m even still following you at this point.

😳: I’ve learned things about you that have surprised me a lot!

🐭: Please be kinder to yourself.

😑: -__-

👔: I think you’re someone who takes themself very seriously.

🍉: I wish we lived closer to each other.

🍭: You confuse me.

😮: I wish I could give you some advice.

💐: I have a crush on you.

😁: You’re a little awkward, but I find it endearing.

💕: I love you‼︎

👍: I like you. Just, in general. I think you’re a genuinely good person.

Story Prompt: “Look–I hate to tell you, but you deserve the truth… . Your cooking almost killed me last night.”

Art Prompt:

Opposite day! Draw your favorite character doing something, or wearing something completely opposite from their normal.

Fandom Week:

Miraculous fluff month! Beginning August 1st.

JJBek Week! August 19 - 27th.

Guang-Hong Week! Prompts will be put up for voting through Aug 15 and posted by Aug 21

Yuri on Ice Music Week! September 4th - 11th

NSFW Yuri Plisetsky Week! September 11th - 17th.

SeungChuchu Week! October 16th - 23rd.

Help Wanted:

Needed: Tumblr theme editor. Please contact Diamond Winters for details.

Story recommendations!! If you find a story that you absolutely love, and you want to see it get some recognition, please submit a link to it with a 2-3 sentence review of the story. This way it could get in the spotlight in a future edition of the SMP. Requirements are that it’s completed, or a one-shot.

Artist Spotlight!! If you find a piece of artwork that needs more love, please submit a link to it so it may be considered for future spotlights in the future.

WIP Motivation: Please send your support to these writers or artist to encourage them to continue their story or artwork. No good story or piece of art should be left unfinished. - If you know of a good story that hasn’t been updated in a while, and would like to offer encouragement to the author, please let me know, so that I can link to their story here.

If there is ever any section of the Sunday Morning Post that you feel you can contribute too, please send an Ask or Submit to either the SMP, or @d2diamond so that it has a chance at making in a future post. Thank you!

#The Sunday Morning Post #Writing #Artist #Fanfiction #Original Stories #gaurdians of the galaxy #Groot #Zine #RedBubble #Wattpad

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moayoub1 · 5 years ago

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How to Spend a Day in Fener and Balat, Istanbul

On my most up-to-date trip to Istanbul, Turkey, I did a walking tour focused on hidden architectural gems in Karakoy and Taksim. One among the opposite travelers on my tour was curious about knowing more about the city’s Jewish history, and our guide recommended that she spend a day exploring Fener and Balat (which he mentioned as simply “Fener Balat”), a colorful neighborhood with an upscale, multicultural history and a fast-growing cool factor. Well, that sounded right up my alley too, so I decided to form the trip to Fener and Balat the subsequent day.

It’s hard to draw a politician border between the 2 small neighborhoods of Fener and Balat so that they are often spoken of as one unit. Although the world has been occupied since the Byzantine Empire, Fener and Balat came into their own when the Ottoman Empire took control of Istanbul and lots of the city’s Greek residents built traditional wooden houses in these communities, followed years later by the arrival of the many Jews and Muslims from Spain. Elements of all of the cultures remain today within the sort of religious buildings, educational institutions, residences, cuisine, and art… which makes Fener and Balat a serious draw for travelers trying to find something different in Istanbul.

I spent about four hours in Fener and Balat and would recommend that you simply decide to stay for a minimum of that long (especially if you would like to eat in one among the district’s hottest restaurants). As I mention within the transportation section below, attempt to time your visit to avoid rush-hour traffic, perhaps visiting from 10:00 to 15:00, so that you don’t spend an hour (or longer) making the seven-kilometer bus trip from the Galata Bridge.

Things to try to to in Fener & Balat Find Istanbul’s Most Colorful Houses

Most people come to Fener and Balat to see the rows of colorful houses dotted throughout both neighborhoods. While a number of the more famous streets (like the hilly Merdivenli Yokus) can get crowded with Instagrammers and amateur photographers, you'll still find colorful side streets with few crowds (like the one I snapped above). Many of the homes have had their facades refreshed with the support of UNESCO, which recognizes all of Fatih as a neighborhood of cultural significance.

See the Historic Architecture

It’s a brief walk up a steep hill to Phanar Orthodox College, a monolithic red-brick building that houses Istanbul’s oldest Greek-Orthodox school. Although a faculty has been on the location since the 1400s, the building you'll see today was inbuilt the 1880s. Inside, students still study a balanced curriculum that has the Turkish national curriculum and along with side key subjects in Greek also.

You might also want to see out Kadir Has University, one among Istanbul’s newest universities. The university’s building was originally an old tobacco factory, and therefore the reconstruction work won a gift for architectural beauty from the multinational NGO Europa Nostra.

Visit a spiritual Site

Fener and Balat are both full of houses of worship spanning centuries and faiths. I used to be taken by St. Stephen Bulgarian Church, shown above, with its unique cast-iron facade. St. Stephen’s undergone an extended renovation and reopened in 2018, so visit while it’s still in great condition.

You can also visit the Ahrida Synagogue, but to pass beyond its red gate you'll be got to arrange entrance beforehand, for security purposes. Similarly, to enter the Gul Mosque, which was inbuilt the eleventh century because of the Saint Theodosia Church, you'll need to hunt the groundskeeper and convince him to allow you to the inside, which I’ve read isn't a simple feat.

Although some blogs mention Saint Mary of the Mongols Church, it’s located behind a reasonably big wall and infrequently hospitable the general public. Don’t leave of your way for this one.

Browse for Antiques & Curiosities

It’s impossible to steer quite two or three blocks in Fener and Balat without encountering the community’s famous antique shops, full of everything from second-hand trinkets to legitimately valuable antiques. However, I used to be more curious about a number of the opposite shops I found, just like the Electrician of Havana shop where antique electrical items like lamps and telephones are converted into contemporary art, and Balat Bahce, where they sell quite fifty different sorts of homemade jams, jellies, and spreads, mostly featuring local and seasonal ingredients.

Scope Out the road Art

Again, follow the Instagrammers and you'll be led to Balat and Fener’s most evocative pieces of street art, including murals of mysterious portraits, perfume bottle grenades, random acts of automobiles and, yes, your standard graffiti. If you would like to ascertain art off the road, pop into The Pill Contemporary gallery, which was closed thanks to a change of exhibits once I visited, but that often features exhibitions of up-and-coming Turkish and international artists.

Where to dine in Fener & Balat

Cook life Balat

Out of all the restaurants in Fener and Balat, I used to be most drawn to Cook life Balat for my brunch during this Istanbul neighborhood. An adorable corner cafe travel by the team behind Cook life culinary magazine, the main target here is on fresh, local ingredients sourced from the owners’ farm outside Istanbul. I had their spectacular Turkish breakfast for one, shown above, featuring homemade bread, jams and spreads, salad, olives, cheese, butter, nuts and more.

Forno Balat

I also considered eating at Forno Balat because I could see it had a stimulating menu of Turkish flatbread pizzas, including some vegetarian options, plus soups, salads and homemade desserts. If you’re in Fener and Balat on the weekend, Forno also serves a weekend buffet brunch.

Mitis Manti ve Cafe

This was my backup-backup just in case I couldn’t get a seat at either Cook's life or Forno. With a more traditional vibe, this small restaurant focuses on manti or Turkish dumplings that they had two different vegetarian options (potato or mushroom) and three meaty options, all of which accompany a liberal covering of special yogurt-based sauce and a drizzle of their secret manti sauce.

Brew Coffeeworks

When I mentioned I’d been in Fener and Balat, one among my readers asked if I’d been to Brew Coffeeworks. Consistent with them, it's the simplest coffee altogether of Istanbul, so I used to be disappointed to possess missed it. Stop by when you’re in Fener and Balat, then come and let me know if it is that the best coffee altogether of Istanbul!

How to Get to Fener & Balat

Fener and Balat are located in Fatih, on the ECU side of Istanbul and northwest of Eminonu. To urge to Fener and Balat from Eminonu, walk to the bus exchange that's labeled “Eminönü (Turyol)” on Google Maps (zoom in and you'll see four small lanes of bus stops) and mountboard one among the frequent buses traveling northwest along Abdulezelpasa Caddesi. If you’re bad at remembering bus numbers, it’s easiest to recollect 99, 99A or 99Y, all of which can take you to Fener and Balat. Traffic moves at a snail’s pace at hour, so attempt to time your visit to avoid the push of drivers getting to, or leaving, work.

Hotels in Fener & Balat

I didn’t stay in Fener and Balat and that I don’t necessarily recommend that you simply stay here. As it’s only accessible by bus, with no subway or tram service, it is often time-consuming to succeed in other areas of the town from here. However, if you would like to base yourself in Fener and Balat because you’re within the neighborhood for private reasons or work, you'll check out Hotel Troya Balat, which is found during a nineteenth-century historical building on the near side of the district, or Balat Residence for a standard, family-run hotel with self-contained apartment units.

Istanbul is one of my favorite cities on the earth, and I’ve already planted the seeds for a return visit (my third!) next summer, but this point with my mom as my travel companion! I can’t wait to introduce her to everything from Cook's life Balat’s beautiful brunch to the traditional sights of Sultanahmet.

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sage-nebula · 7 years ago

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Do you have any advise, tips, or general guidelines for creative writing? I'm writing a Fan fiction for the first time but outside of basic rules for writing I don't really know what I'm doing. Mostly how to pace a scene and deal with tone. thank you for your time.

Hm, well, yes and no . . .

It’s difficult, because while I have trained for this (in the sense that I pursued a degree in this---my B.A. is in English with an emphasis in creative writing), so much of what I know I learned through practice. I’ve been writing for the past seventeen years, and in that time I have written a lot of stuff. Sure, a great deal of it---maybe even most of it!---was garbage, but the important thing is that I wrote it. I still wrote it. And through writing it, I learned what worked and what didn’t. This learning wasn’t necessarily conscious; although I of course have received feedback over the years (both informally through comments on my fics, as well as more seriously in the form of creative writing workshops), learning any art form is a matter of subconsciously picking things up as you go along. You always hear “practice, practice, practice!” for a reason. The more you write, the more you improve. The same goes for drawing, for music, et cetera.

So when it comes to things like pacing, or tone---that’s something I just sort of . . . do. I mean, your narrative voice isn’t something you can be taught, anyway. That’s always going to come from you. But when it comes to the pacing of a scene, to the blocking, to the dialogue . . . I don’t really plan that, I don’t have strategies for how I have that come across, I just do it. Of course, I can read over a work and pick apart what works and what doesn’t, and I actually can’t help but do this when I read something nowadays (it was drilled into me in my advanced fiction workshop specifically, I can’t turn it off), and in that sense I could say, “The pacing doesn’t work here, and it might be better to rework this part so that it reads like [suggestion] instead,” but that’s specific advice for a specific piece of work. It isn’t something that applies generally, because every piece is different.

So to that end, I’m sorry to be disappointing, but I can’t think of any advice to give. If someone asks me, “How do you construct your narratives?” or “How do you set your pacing?” I draw a blank because I don’t entirely know. I just do it. It doesn’t always work, and often times I want to chuck my entire laptop into the sun, but it’s still something that I just do, as I’ve been doing for the past seventeen years, and as I tried to refine in my various creative writing courses (but particularly my fiction workshops, and especially my advanced fiction workshop). It’s something I take very seriously, but at the same time it’s not something I feel I can really teach.

But that said, I don’t want to leave you with nothing, so some general tips:

When writing, stay in the room. This advice comes not from me, actually, but from Ron Carlson in his book Ron Carlson Writes a Story. In that book, Ron explains the “stay in the room” philosophy, which is essentially that, once you start writing, you do not get up from that desk until you’re done writing for the day. You don’t get up to get coffee, to go to the bathroom---you don’t let yourself browse the internet or look up names for your characters. Use placeholders if you have to, use gibbersih, but just keep writing. It’s very, very solid advice that I’ve found helpful ever since I”ve learned it. Removing yourself from the story even for a moment can mean losing your train of thought. As tempting as it is to get up and jump around sometimes, you can’t let yourself to do that. You have to have discipline. Stay in the room.

Do not use epithets. Many, many, many fanfiction writers do this, and it is always a mistake. They are unnecessary and yank the reader from the story. So for instance, if you’re writing a VLD fic, you may be tempted to refer to characters as “the green paladin” or “the Altean princess”, et cetera. Don’t do it. The only time you should use epithets is if your viewpoint character legitimately does not know the name of another character, and thus has to refer to them by some sort of physical description. Otherwise, your reader knows that Pidge is the Green Paladin (for instance), and thus does not need to be told. It’s distracting. Don’t do it.

If you’re writing fanfiction, do go back and revisit the source material again, and again, and again. If you want to properly portray a character’s voice, you have to get in their head, and the best way to do that is to study them in their natural canon. Pay attention to things like body language, facial expressions, speech patterns and verbal tics. Yes, there are obvious things like having Keith cross his arms, but pay attention to the way his voice goes very soft whenever he speaks to Allura or Shiro, and the way that he always starts a lie by avoiding eye contact, yet then glances back up at the person he’s lying to, as if he’s either catching himself looking away and is trying to force himself to maintain eye contact, or as if he’s trying to gauge whether or not they’re buying his very shoddy lie. Lance gets shrill when he gets emotional, Hunk stammers as he trails off, Keith is known for being blunt and temperamental, but outside of his circumstances in 3x03, he never snaps or yells at Allura even when they disagree (e.g. 2x06, 3x04), and so on and so forth. Revisit the canon not just for plot points, but to really observe and pay attention to the characters. Get to know them and the way they tick, and remember: If you can hear the voice actors reciting the lines in your head, then there’s a good chance your reader will be able to as well.

Write a lot, and have fun. Don’t worry about getting it perfect the first time. You’re a brand new writer, you’re just starting out, and fandom (however often certain fandoms forget this) is supposed to be about connecting with people who have the same interests you do, and having fun. Most of what I write is, by my standards, garbage. But even if it’s garbage, it’s at least garbage that exists. I write it because I want to write it, and you should, too. I’m not saying that what you write will be garbage, of course. I’d never say that. But I am saying that you shouldn’t let yourself get too hung up on things. Do the best you can, and have fun with it. The most important thing is that you’re doing something that makes you happy. So long as you’re having fun, so long as you’re happy, you’re good to go.

#starlightprincess17 #my AO3 looks pretty empty #but my FFN is not #and neither is my fic page here #and that's not even counting all the fic that has been deleted over the years #or my original works #i've been actively writing for over half my life #so if i have any worth as a writer now #it's because once upon a time i didn't #but i wrote anyway #if you're brand new - don't sweat it #just do the best you can and have fun #just keep writing #if you want to be a writer the most important thing is that you write #so go do it. go write. go. be great. :)

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chvvva · 8 years ago

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With each passing day, I become more and more aware of fandom dynamics and of what belonging to an organized subculture means. It’s no secret that fandom is a pretty old thing, but, and here’s the point of this introduction, though social network may have quickened and facilitated the process of people with the same interests from all over the world amazingly coming together, it also consistently fueled a fascinating phenomenon. Yes, I’m talking about those little mean anons and those walls of repetitive ass complaints preventing you from seeing content in the tags. In short, “hate”. Which represents the anti-movement and, it’s safe to safe to say at this point, a sub-subculture in and of itself. A few inputs before the actual rant:

From a neutral perspective, the Internet basically works like this: Immediate access to/diffusion of informations = Viral and limitless circulation.

And that’s great and positive,

but if your parents told you not to believe everything you read on the web to be true, now it’s time to remember that advice.

Because when free info distribution and limitless circulation make sweet love, it leads to increasing misinformation.

You’re misinformed when: you read someone else’s opinion and are firmly convinced that it is true without resources and/or factual proofs and qualified people confirming it.

Rings a few bells?

But fine, let’s say that those who condemn social issues, those who advocate, who do their best to promote healthy and open mindsets, those who want some kind of progress, aren’t spending 90% of the time they could be dedicating to those important causes… on the Internet > The place where sometimes - sometimes, but it happens - questionably subversive arguments are worded better than motivational speeches. This can be proven by looking at any post containing words like; “fetishization”; everything ending with “-phobia”; “harmful”; no, I’m not making these up, they’re the literal parody of terms with a heavy emotional impact. It doesn’t matter if they lack meaning. They can affect people on different degrees, but rest assured that the chance of someone not reacting to them [on a subconscious level] is pretty slim. All in all, these words serve their purpose very well. Now let’s put misinformation aside, let’s put data indigestion aside, as well as fragile contestations, lack of investigation, and idealistic visions of societies where we all think the same way.

So, fast forward.

I want to talk about fandoms. Who am I kidding, this was originally 100% about the Killing Stalking fandom. Except between discussing dark content in media, and fandom culture, and looking up precedents, such as Strikethrough (when I say antis remind me of radical religious groups I’m not shitting you but I wish I was), the point became wider. And clearer.

Everything you’ll read from this point on boils down to: Art is bad. Art exists to be bad.

I won’t claim these are my words, people - far more intelligent than me - have been having the same intuition since ancient times.

Homer’s Iliad is about war, mourning and death. It glorifies them on cosmic levels. I have read the Iliad two times. Wow, I guess I think dying is fun.

Euripides’ most famous play, Medea, is about a mother murdering her sons, then escaping. She’s the heroine of the play. In ancient Greece, plays were performed during festivals in public theatres. And I’ll tell you more: citizens who couldn’t afford the ticket participated anyway, because the government paid it for them. That’s because everyone, and I mean literally everyone, was encouraged to witness “wrong, controversial, absolutely vile” things as long as they happened on the stage.

On a lighter note, it’s possible for art to be simply amoral, since it’s how it’s always been, and always will be, as long as we’ll be entitled to free speech. Authors make choices. Either they put their beliefs and opinions into their work or they don’t.

Literature swims in the murkier waters of the human condition.

I’m going to go a little bit into this. When we talk about the horror genre, we should consider its origins. I’m sure you’re familiar with the piece of literature that lied the foundations of this genre, or at least with its renowned title. “Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus” was published in London on New Year’s Day, 1818, and “there was no author named on the title page, and readers and reviewers, almost to a person, assumed the book had been written by a man. They were mistaken.” (New York Times) We modern readers and reviewers, however, know that the Gothic novel that has enjoyed the most enduring popular success was written by a woman. And she was not the first one. Richard Davenport-Hines takes us back to the 18th century, years before Frankenstein was even a draft: “A significant amount of horror fiction of this era was written by women and marketed at a female audience, a typical scenario being a resourceful female protagonist menaced in a gloomy castle.” (Gothic: 1500 Years of Excess, Horror, Evil and Ruin. 1998.) Knowing that women have given a remarkable imprint to the horror genre made me think quite a lot. Is it possible to assume that gothic/horror/psychological are, in fact, some of the few narratives women had (and continue to have) such a deep impact on? And why is that? Answering these questions would be as difficult as determining the brain mechanism that leads us to actively seek the thrill of a good horror movie. And if you claim that a the horror genre is good only when it explicitly condemns bad and vile things, you need to read more books. If you haven’t even thumbed through Frankenstein, you’re probably unaware of its controversiality. I must admit, much as death is depicted with violent and terrifying tones, it’s nothing compared to other works of fiction I’ve met. But what really sticks to you after an afternoon spent between those pages, is human cruelty, as well as the utterly disarming human inclination to error. It sticks to you because it is real. When you pass judgement against fiction for influencing reality, I think it’s a far fetched, if not plainly wrong assumption, because that is not the nature of this relationship, which is simple. Fiction draws elements from the real world. Just what is necessary. Conversely, reality isn’t bended by fiction; and Darwin knew there was no way of Shelley’s tale happening just as well as she did. The extreme and profound emotions her book explores, however, belong to a human’s inner dimension. As debatable as they may be, or precisely because they are debatable, they belong to the pages of a book.

I find kind of hilarious how only a century later a horror story, written by a woman, ends up in young people’s hands and it is immediately considered inexcusable and “nasty” because of “amoral content.”

If you followed me until now, it won’t be hard to understand the next point. Pleasure can be amoral. Either people put their beliefs and opinions into what they love or they don’t. Often, these factors play a big part on what catches our attention; but that’s not mandatory, as I certainly don’t think murdering your son is a nice family activity. Medea is still one of my favorite plays. In school, no one told me this would make me a “murder apologist”.

Whenever it became progressive and almost natural to overlap an author’s, or even a reader’s conscience to a character’s, for whatever reason, I’m sure art will never be really free from this prejudice. My guess is that people simply aren’t able to separate the concept of something real from the concept of a parallel reality [fiction] in which ethical and physical laws aren’t applied in the same way. (And some people might feel so out of place and insecure about their own morals that as soon as moral integrity is questioned for its inflexible nature, the world crumbles down.)

There’s someone out there who will read this and be condescending (I get a tiny bit pretentious, especially since my safe zone is involved) but I don’t really care as long as there’s polite debate.

The article that encouraged me to write down my opinion, while being a superficial source, is an interesting one:

“Literature swims in the murkier waters of the human condition. Conflict and matters of life and death, of freedom and oppression—it is the business of books to explore these themes, and the business of teenagers, too.

New brain mapping research suggests that adolescence is a time when teens are capable of engaging deeply with material, on both an intellectual level as well as an emotional one. Some research suggests that during adolescence, the parts of the brain that processes emotion are even more online with teens than with adults, (something that will come as absolutely no surprise to any parent of a teenager). So, developmentally, teens are hungry for more provocative grist while emotionally they’re thirsty for the catharsis these books offer. Of course teens are drawn to darker, meatier fare.” (Gayle Forman, novelist - interviewed by Time)

What I’m saying is that art is vile. But the real world is also vile. Where’s the catch? Which part of this comes as a surprise?

Here goes the true shocking reveal, though: discouraging the creation of bad art isn’t a way to make reality significantly less bad. Let me put this more straightforwardly.

Censorship means taking away one of the most important human rights, while me writing a story in which a character thinks abuse isn’t a bad thing doesn’t violate any.

At this point, someone could argue that surely I’m not being sensible to abuse survivors, but the reason why I get away with it and Unfriendly Anon doesn’t is that I don’t do anything to directly and purposefully affect another person. So I’m good. Hate to break it down to you, but I’m not in charge of every single person on this site any more than you’re in charge of me and of my feelings. Or of minors and their feelings. Or of survivors and their feelings.

I’ve probably left something out, but hopefully the main points came across clearly. It’s fine if you don’t agree with them. Maybe make sure to understand what you’re talking about before you do broadcast your thoughts.

#killing stalking discourse #fandom discourse #horror genre #long post yikes #ranthea be proud

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