#epic tales of human nature

[jonathanrogersartist]

Anakin stans can be so strange sometimes. Don't they know the whole point of his story is a cautionary tale about selfishness, hubris, greed and lust for power? And that he ultimately made his own choices, to go down those paths?

Yes, he had many good qualities, and his past is very tragic, and he was living through some really traumatic situations, but Anakin's fall was still down to him making a terrible choice based on his own greed and refusal to accept the circle of life, as it were. He's not a poor pitiful baby angel that got a raw deal because of those wicked tricksy false Jedi, nor was he entirely a helpless victim of Palpatine's gaslighting.

Anakin had countless opportunities to question the poison Palps was pumping into his brain, but he chose not to.... because deep down, he loved the taste of that poison; it fed his ego and validated his own victim complex, that he used to rationalize being belligerent to his Jedi master and peers, who were showing him absolutely saint-like patience despite some of his actions.

Anakin Skywalker is no doubt a compelling, tragic figure who indeed had a noble and heroic side that we can mourn the loss of, upon his transformation into Vader. But the whole crux of the character is that his flaws were so toxic, and the way he chose to handle them was so counterproductive and self-destructive, that he created his own special hell that he would burn in for the rest of his life. THAT'S the epic tragedy of Anakin Skywalker.

You can love him as a character for how complex and tortured and fallible he is, but to paint him as almost entirely a victim of outside forces that destroyed his life and pushed him down a path of evil.... so profoundly misses the point of what George Lucas was trying to say about human nature, and how even a pure-hearted kid can one day turn into a pitiless fascist, if he refuses to straighten his shit out.

[tanoraqui]

In Which Space Orcs are Men

[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)

Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.

Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness. 

Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.

Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves. 

Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.

.

When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.

Then the Elves sent us a message.

The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…

It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.

The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.

They said,

This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—

The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.

—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!

We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…

Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.

Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—

Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!

If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y— 

There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.

And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.

...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time. 

It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.

It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...

(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)

And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.

Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now. 

The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….

Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….

But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?

I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.

I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!

If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?

I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality. 

Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.

Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet. 

It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family. 

Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.

(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)

The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun. 

No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.

We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for. 

I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.

The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…

The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.

Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.

The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.

We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.

I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen. 

We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped. 

I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.

Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.

The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.

A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.

“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.

Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.

Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…

We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.

Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.

I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.

Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.

A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world. 

A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame. 

Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.

Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.

The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—

But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side. 

With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.

But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.

It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.

He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.

Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.

Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—

“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer. 

He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.

“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”

The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more. 

“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.

I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:

“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”

[calliopefiction]

Misplaced

Misplaced is a fantasy romance IF wherein your choices not only determine your own fate, but that of an entire kingdom. Let me take you on an adventure filled with both whimsy and tragedy alike.

The current public demo goes up to the end of Chapter 8.

The demo on Patreon goes up to the end of Chapter 9.

The Story:

For decades, the human kingdom of Gaiapeia has been in conflict with the fae living in the surrounding lands. There's no end in sight - in fact, an outright war seems more likely with each passing day.

You are the child of Lady and Sir Grahm, a noble family who has been serving the crown for generations. Eager to follow in your father's footsteps, you have been training for years to become a knight worthy of being Prince Az'Lean's Champion - his right hand, his closest confidant, the one who protects his life from the growing danger of the fae.

When the time finally comes and you are chosen for the position, it's a dream come true. You couldn't be happier, but just one day later on your 21st birthday, a terrible truth is revealed to you.

You are a changeling - a fae child that was smuggled into a human family with only one purpose: to gain the prince's trust and use it against him.

A war between humans and fae is slowly but surely brewing, and the outcome depends entirely on your choices. 

Will you choose a side or try to make peace? 

Will you embrace what you are or reject it? 

And who will you let in on your secret?

Features:

Customize the appearance of your MC, play as non-binary, female, or male and romance whoever you like however you like, including the option of asexual or queer-platonic relationships.

Enjoy the story without having to worry about stats - you will be a competent knight no matter what. There is no failure or success, only different choices and their outcomes.

Shape your personality, and your trustworthiness, with your actions. How other characters feel about you will change depending on how they perceive you.

Pick a side early on, play the long con, or refuse to make a choice at all. There are multiple split paths that will feature the same romancable characters - but their relationship to you might vary greatly (including villain romances).

Romance:

Vynn (nb): A fellow knight and your best friend

Unlike you, Vynn isn't a knight by choice and doesn't care much for fighting. They'd much rather be a bard if they could, seeing as they love playing the lute, spinning epic tales, and generally being a source of levity. They are fiercely loyal and good-natured, though there is that bit of resentment that will never quite leave their heart.

Az'Lean (m): The prince and the one you are sworn to protect

At a glance, Az'Lean is the very picture of a fairytale prince: charming, chivalrous, and powerful. He is an excellent fighter, loves animals, and prefers to be treated like an equal. Anyone who cares to look will soon notice the darkness lurking beneath that shining exterior, festering ever since the death of his mother.

Maeve (f): A powerful dryad and your teacher on the ways of the fae

Maeve is usually playful and soft, though she can get eerily intense at times. As much as she cares about decorum and courtly things, she finds joy in the simplest pleasures and easily turns into a giggly mess. For all her humour, you can never quite tell if she is being serious. Sometimes it feels like she's just playing with you.

Thianne (f): A sorceress and one of Az'Lean's most trusted advisors

Thianne is intelligent and hard-working, though sometimes at the expense of her own well-being. Although she comes across as abrasive and rude, she is always willing to help those who need it. Her dry sense of humour and brutal honesty have endeared her to just as many people as they have made her enemies.

Lester (m): A half-fae and servant in the castle

As with most half-fae, Lester's presence isn't entirely welcome, and his reasons for being here seem deeper than he lets on. Lester is known for his mischief and his crude humour, often pulling pranks that border on malicious. Despite the way he presents himself as laid-back and uncaring, it's clear that there's a lot he isn't opening up about.

Warnings:

This story contains potentially triggering content. There will be graphic depictions of violence, death, discrimination, body-image issues, mental illness (including panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and paranoia), discussions of genocide, war, and terminal illness. 

Discretion is advised. More warnings might be added at a later date.

Support:

Thank you so much for showing any interest in this project at all! If you would like to receive biweekly update posts, participate in polls, and get access to bonus short stories, consider supporting me on Patreon.

[cambion-companion]

Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said. ��Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

[brittle-doughie]

Imagine a y/n that was reincarnated 3 times, the first time into an ancient, the next a legendary, and finally a super epic. And it goes by the lyrics of alice of human sacrifice

Beast Y/n: "The first Alice was born in the woods of Beast Yeast, bravely with a fearsome sword held tightly in her hand."

"Slicing whatever lay in her unyielding Wrath, leaving chaos in her wake. A RED, BLOODY PATH."

"Then Alice strayed too far, lost within the woods. Giving into all her sin, LOCKING HER AWAY FOR GOOD."

"Much like the gruesome path that marked her evil ways, still her life remains a mystery to this very day."

Ancient Y/n: "Second Alice was a tame and tender gentleman. Singing songs to all the folks who lived in Beast Yeast."

"Every day, he'd sing away to all the girls and boys, one by one spreading EVIL slowly with his voice."

"Whenever he would sing, people gathered 'round. Madness took a hold of him, SHOT HIM DEAD TO THE GROUND."

"Blood stained the roses to a bright and somber red, once loved and enjoyed by all the man was left for DEAD."

Legendary Y/n: "The third Alice was a lovely girl from Beast Yeast. Beautiful, the girl was born into a life so grand"

"She charmed all the people to her every beck and call, then she birthed a kingdom that would rise above them all."

"This Alice was then crowned, turned into a queen. Ruling all the people here, lost within a crazy dream."

"So afraid of death, the girl was MINDLESS and WARPED. Once a gorgeous ruler, now she’s just an ugly corpse."

Super epic Y/n and S/o: "Find the bright forest path, That’s where the journey starts. A tea party with blue roses, That’s where the forest parts."

"The invite from the Queen, It actually was. The trump card, The Ace of Hearts."

"The fourth Alice was a young pair of cookies who were lovers. Straying into Beast Yeast, is where their tale begins."

"Wandering across the world, they passed through many doors. Curious of this new place, they traveled and explored."

"The stubborn older Y/n, The clever younger S/o. Were close to see the nature of the true Alice at hand."

"Both will never wake up from the dream that they had planned. Forever they’ll wander hopelessly in Beast Yeast."

Not really familiar with the lyrics, but it does look like it’s built up to have this take of Y/N be quite the cookie to go through these cycles.

[tkwrites]

Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.

Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?

Hi my Lovely,

There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.

I can tell you my favorite fics, though:

Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.

Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.

Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:

1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.

2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.

and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:

This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 

“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 

This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 

Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 

All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 

After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.

[mask131]

While checking around for my “Roman gods are not Greek gods” posts, I found back this tripartition of mythology, which is actually a fact that everybody should kno about if they want to dabble in Greco-Roman myths (especially Greek myths).

We know that, during Antiquity, the Romans and the Greeks thought that there wasn’t just one, but three different types of “theology” - three different views, perceptions and reception of the gods.

The first theology was the theology of the priests and of the state - aka, religion. The Greek gods as perceived and described by religion, as honored through rituals and festivals.

The second theology is the “mythic theology” - what we call “mythology today”. It is a set of legends, folktales and stories that are not part of religion, but rather used and carried by art - it is the gods are seen, perceived and described by the poets, by the epics, by the theater plays.

The third theology is the theology of the philosophers - who used the gods and their tales as images and allegories for various abstract or concrete topics. It is the gods as depictions and description of natural phenomenon, or the myths as a way to actualy exemplify a social fact or explain psychological workings. 

For the classic Greeks and Romans, there was a clear divide between those three very different point of view of the gods. It was basically three different versions of the pantheon. This is notably why you will find texts noting that priests disliked and condemned the poets’ mythological works, due to them being blasphemous and making the gods too human when religion described them as perfect ; and it is also why the philosophers of old dissed on and rejected the literary works of mythology as nonsense only good to feed superstitions, because for them the gods weren’t characters or realities, but rather abstract concepts and rhetorical allegories.

This is something I feel needs to be reminded, because today these three different theologies have been mixed up into one big mess - as literary myths are placed one the same level as philosophical “myths” (actually texts taking the shape of myths), and both considered of outmost religious importance. When in fact, things were quite different... 

EDIT: I was asked if there was a myth that could illustrate the three different theologies, and on the spot I would say “the affair between Aphrodite and Ares”.

This story originates from the “mythological theology”. It is primarily a story, and a good one. It is the story of a husband who discovers his wife is unfaithful and tries to get revenge, it is the story of an extra-marital affair gone wrong, it is typical set of divine shenanigans ending on a grotesque display of divine humiliation - it is an excellent narrative material for plays and poems (and the legend does originates from poems).

The story was also dearly beloved and reused by the “philosophical theology”, because the philosophers adored the idea of the love between Ares and Aphrodite - for them it was the perfect depiction of how the concepts of “love” and “war” , despite being seemingly opposite, attracted each other and were closely tied. For them, this story isn’t to be taken literaly as “a god cheated on another god”, but rather as “this is an allegory showing that love and war are two sides of the same coin, which is why Aphrodite falls for Ares despite being married to Hephaistos”. But for them the whole net part is just poetic nonsense invented to make people laugh ; or maybe they will reinvent them as a moral, cautionary tale that should be used to warn people of the dangers of unfaithfulness. 

And then there’s the “religious theology”, the point of view of the priests - for whom such a story is mockery and sacrilege. You can imagine them saying: “You are making the gods look like fools! Gods don’t cheat on each other, gods don’t get captured in nets while butt-naked, gods don’t even sleep on beds - GODS DO NOT EVEN HAVE HUMAN FORMS IN THEIR NATURAL STATE - what the heck is this bullshit you’re saying, you’re just insulting the gods by turning them into lecherous humans and grotesque clowns for your vulgar story!” (This is a reconstitution and not the actual words of an Ancient Greek priest)

[felassan]

EA Blog Post on hair tech in DA:TV, under a cut due to length.

"Innovating Strand by Strand for Lifelike Hair in Dragon Age: The Veilguard Strand Hair technology adds visual fidelity and realism to characters, and it redefines what’s possible in Dragon Age: The Veilguard --- In the fantasy world of Thedas, where heroes rise and legends are forged, every detail breathes life into an epic saga. Dragon Age: The Veilguard introduces players to a crafted and beautiful world where even the finest elements like strands of hair tell a tale of their own. Each strand of hair weaves seamlessly into the fabric of the game, enriching your character’s journey through treacherous labyrinths and beyond. Together, the Frostbite and BioWare teams embarked on a quest to elevate Strand Hair technology, focusing on the following elements: - 50,000 individual strands per character for over 100 hairstyles – EA’s Strand Hair technology brings natural motion to your hero’s hairdo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard. - Adaptable to various character movements and environments – Frostbite and BioWare pushed the limits of hair rendering, achieving realistic material response and shadows. This collaboration introduced detailed, physics-driven hairstyles tailored to the unique world of Dragon Age. - Industry-leading realism – Dragon Age: The Veilguard sets a new standard for lifelike character hair at 60 FPS on PlayStation®5, Xbox Series X, and PC with compatible hardware, showcasing EA’s leadership in innovation and BioWare’s craftsmanship in enhancing immersive storytelling. This is how Frostbite and BioWare brought Strand Hair technology to the next level, letting you be the hero you want to be as Rook in Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Weaving Magic Into Reality Harnessing the power of the Frostbite engine, Strand Hair technology transforms your character's locks into a living tapestry of thousands of individual strands. Strand Hair technology combines physics with real-time rendering to simulate believable modeling of human hair."

"Incorporating realistic hair within games is quite challenging, which is why Frostbite has already spent years advancing hair rendering technology. Strand Hair was featured in previous EA SPORTS FC™, Madden NFL, and NHL titles, but the technology is always being upgraded for new releases. While Strand Hair is present in other EA games, the BioWare team had to push the limits even further for Dragon Age: The Veilguard. For example, implementing Strand Hair technology for characters who have waist-length hair with horns on their head presented some unique challenges. With hair attachments that move seamlessly, and the decoupling of simulation and render tessellation, this is the first EA game to offer such detailed physics-driven long hairstyles. The Frostbite team increased maximum hair length from 63 points to 255, and implemented a new system for complex hair structures like braids. Frostbite and BioWare also collaborated to achieve accurate hair material response and shadows across diverse lighting environments. Strand Hair technology in Dragon Age: The Veilguard features a new hair lighting model with improved light transmittance and visibility calculations. Dragon Age characters can have various builds and physical traits, each with unique hairstyles that adapt seamlessly to different garments and dynamic movements. Whether jumping at high speed in combat, slowing time, or going prone, the hair responds fluidly while maintaining realism across all scenarios. A Heroic Collaboration With Trials and Triumphs The evolution of Strand Hair technology has been a collaborative journey, beginning with Frostbite’s partnership with the EA SPORTS FC™ team that pushed the tech to a shippable state. Frostbite continues to refine and enhance this innovation, bringing its magic to titles like Battlefield 2042, UFC 5, College Football 25, and now, Dragon Age: The Veilguard.  The Frostbite and BioWare teams worked closely together to get Strand Hair tech within Dragon Age: The Veilguard. The engineering team played a huge role in making sure hair looked good in new scenarios, like being surrounded by magical particles, underwater, or interacting with waterfalls. Their tireless work made these complex interactions both performant and robust. “The collaboration between Frostbite and the BioWare engineering team was key to supporting complex hairstyles. Advancing the technology for intricate styles and optimizing performance ensured that specific moments, like when hair covers a large percentage of the screen in certain cinematics, run smoothly.” – Maciej Kurowski, Studio Technical Director, BioWare Together, they tackled challenging lighting conditions and pushed the limits of strand length and tessellation, achieving hair designs far more complex than any previous EA title."

"Complex Hair Rendering and Enchanting Visual Magic A major difference between Dragon Age: The Veilguard and existing Frostbite titles that have shipped with Strand Hair is the sheer variety and quantity of visual effects and transparent objects. From magical spells to smoke, fire, and fog, the technology needed to blend seamlessly into the environment and magic of Thedas. Strand Hair is not rendered like traditional objects are within Frostbite. The technology utilizes a bespoke compute software rasterizer and is composited into the frame and blended with other opaque and transparent objects when resolved. Due to the complexity and uniqueness of the software rasterizer, the hair supported limited options for blending with the game world and characters. It was specifically designed to favor blending with depth of field, which is an important broadcast camera technique used in sports games. This did not blend well with transparent objects, which while few in sports titles, are extremely common in Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Thus, the BioWare team needed to develop a new technique for blending hair with transparent visual effects and environment effects like volumetric fog and other participating media. This technique involves splitting the hair into two distinct passes, first opaque, and then transparent. To split the hair up, we added an alpha cutoff to the render pass that composites the hair with the world and first renders the hair that is above the cutoff (>=1, opaque), and subsequently the hair that is lower than the cutoff (transparent). Before these split passes are rendered, we render the depth of the transparent part of the hair. Mostly this is just the ends of the hair strands. This texture will be used as a spatial barrier between transparent pixels that are “under” and “on top” of the strand hair."

"Transparent depth texture, note the edge of the hair."

"Once we have that texture, we first render the opaque part of strand hair, and then we render transparent objects. The shaders for the transparent objects use the transparent hair depth texture to determine whether the shading pixel is “under” or “on top” of the strand hair. If it’s below, it renders the hair and marks a stencil bit (think of it as a masking texture). If the pixel is “on top” or equal to the hair, it simply discards that pixel and renders nothing. After we’ve drawn the transparent objects once, we then draw the transparent hair since we are sure that there are no transparent objects ‘under’ the hair that have not been rendered yet. Finally we draw the transparent objects again, this time checking that stencil mask to see where we did not draw the transparent objects before, thus layering the pixels of transparent objects that are on top of the hair properly. This results in perfect pixel blending with transparent objects. – James Power, Senior Rendering Engineer, BioWare"

"Left, without “Layered” transparency. Right, with “Layered” transparency."

"Another challenge the BioWare team faced was handling the wide range of cinematic lighting rigs used for cutscenes, which must be rendered in real time in order to support customizable characters and followers. Because pre-rendering cutscenes was not possible, performance in cinematics was still paramount to the technical vision for the product. The team also wanted to maintain the same consistent frame rate across gameplay and cinematics to avoid jarring transitions if the cinematics were to be locked to 30 FPS.  With that in mind when lighting scenes, there needed to be support for a wide range of lights that would be less computationally expensive to render, but would have extreme consequences on the quality of hair self-shadowing. This is a major contributor to the overall quality of the hair. Any given Strand Hair object, which has tens of thousands of individual thin hair strands, requires high quality shadow maps in order to have good coverage of the hair strands in the resulting shadowmap texture. Wide angle lights, distant lights, and non-shadowcasting lights do not provide adequate coverage (or no coverage at all, in the case of the non-shadowcasting lights). When the lighting routines are run, the hair would occupy a low amount of pixels in the shadowmap.  When attempting to calculate light transmission inside the volume of hair, the fidelity would be poor, resulting in flat shading lacking detail near the edges of the hair where a fine gradient of light transmission is expected. To solve this, hero shadows are rendered for every Strand Hair object and every light that lighting artists designated as important to the shot. These hero shadows are generated at run time, using a tightly fitting light frustum that is adjusted to each hair’s bounding box, ensuring there are high fidelity shadowmaps.  When applying shadows to the hair, we test to see if a shading point is in the hero shadow or the regular shadow (since the hair will not be in both) and composite the final results."

"Left, Bellara rendered without Hero Shadows. Right, with Hero Shadows. Note the differences in fidelity of transmission on the left side of the character head."

"Harnessing Efficiency With Performance and Memory Throughout development, Dragon Age: The Veilguard aimed for high performance and strict memory requirements across all platforms to ensure players have a smooth and scalable experience.  Strand Hair is a memory and GPU dependent rendering system. Optimizations needed to be made in order to conform to the limited amount of system resources available for the following considerations: - Strand Hair assets, especially those with high strand counts and tessellation settings (which are necessary for the complex hair BioWare authored for both followers and Rook alike), have a high memory footprint. - The system is designed to allow for a large number of Strand Hair assets, but this comes at the cost of additional memory allocations to support the number of characters on field in other titles like EA SPORTS FC™. - For Dragon Age: The Veilguard, the team had a lot of control over which characters are on screen, and how many hair assets are supported. BioWare developed a system to control how large these allocations are to tightly fit the number of hair assets for the best possible memory utilization. On average, there is a flat GPU cost of around 128MB of GPU memory for the full field of followers (eight hair assets). Outside of this fixed memory cost, the system can dynamically adjust the size of system memory, GPU memory, and group shared memory in compute shaders using custom permutations with set thresholds.  This provides the ability to scale additional memory costs from 300MB to 600MB depending on quality settings and resolution. Both Xbox Series X and PlayStation®5 sit at around 400MB depending on the number of characters and the assets loaded, as they each have their own memory costs.  These costs are dynamically adjusted due to hair needing less memory to occupy less pixels. Lower resolutions (or lower dynamic hair resolution on lower quality settings) can get away with smaller buffer allocations for many of these per-frame costs without sacrificing any image quality.  This work was especially important for PC due to the wide array of available graphics memory on GPUs available to consumers. This amount of memory being allocated per frame can push the GPU into demoting or paging memory, which can result in significant performance loss and hitches. For lower quality settings on PC, as well as Xbox Series S, swapping out Strand Hair assets for Card Hair assets is supported. These assets have significantly lower memory footprints and allowed the team to push for higher fidelity on systems that can handle the load without sacrificing performance on lower end systems. To achieve the performance requirements of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, BioWare implemented a number of scalable performance features that are applied across various quality settings on PC and performance modes on consoles. Strand Hair is normally rendered at render resolution and is unaffected by upsampling technology such as NVIDIA DLSS, AMD FSR, or Intel XeSS. Therefore it does not scale as well with other render features when those settings are applied.  To ensure great performance across all configurations, BioWare implemented technology that scales the hair render resolution for a set of minimum and maximum targets based on said render resolution.  Hair rasterization performance scales fairly aggressively with resolution and screen coverage. As hair covers more of the screen, a larger primitive count is required to render the strands at adequate detail. This requires both more memory and GPU resources."

To ensure we meet our frame time requirements, we set a maximum frametime budget for strand hair rendering for consoles at 6.5ms for 30 FPS (33.3ms frame time) and 3ms for 60 FPS (16.6ms frame time) with eight strand hair assets on screen.  Our hair resolution control will adjust the resolution within a minimum and maximum resolution based on our upsampler and DRS settings and keep the hair costs proportional to those targets. This is important since hair does not go through upsampling, as mentioned earlier, and will not have its load reduced by those technologies. Running hair simulation costs are also done on the GPU in compute, and change dramatically depending on the asset, but tend to hover around 2ms with some spikes to nearly 5ms depending on complexity of the hair and whether we are loading/teleporting new assets. This cost does not scale with resolution.  We have a variety of systems for cinematics and gameplay that will disable simulation for hair assets off screen or far away and do not contribute to shadows that are on screen. Controlling simulation costs is largely done by cinematic designers ensuring their scenes do not go over budget. – James Power, Senior Rendering Engineer, BioWare As mentioned earlier, BioWare’s Hero Shadows provide the hair with high fidelity shadow maps, but come at a heavy cost to GPU performance.  Support for scalable hair decimation was added to combat this, allowing for the reduction of strand count when rendering shadows, thus reducing the cost of hero shadows. This enables lighters to use more of them, and support them for both 30 FPS and 60 FPS targets."

"Head and Shoulders Above the Rest Examples above describe only some of the improvements the BioWare and Frostbite teams worked on to redefine state of the art, real-time hair simulation and rendering technology for Dragon Age: The Veilguard. This groundbreaking accomplishment underscores EA's innovative spirit and highlights BioWare's exceptional craftsmanship. Whether you're uniting the Veilguard or facing the gods, the lifelike detail of your character's hair allows you to make this heroic story truly your own. As you journey through Thedas uniting companions and forging your legacy, remember that every detail down to the last strand of hair has been crafted to enhance your adventure. Join the ranks of innovators shaping the future of gaming realms. At EA, we forge alliances and craft powerful tools like Strand Hair. Explore open roles and embark on your adventure!"

[source]

[krsnaradhika]

Fanfictions and Hinduism.

Those who are active on Wattpad, might know that there are many many writers (including myself) who tend to write fiction over itihāsa or historical epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, purely for fun and our love for them. It seems very odd, yes, and we do get to see blasphemy there too. People love some characters, hate the others with a burning passion and there are hour long debates over human nature, characterisations, myths involved, folklores and the many versions both of them have.

We have OCs, we make graphics and video edits, we pair the said OCs with CCs and sometimes with other OCs. The comment sections are the most fun things because writers and their audience interact there. Some works are much more impressive than published paperbacks while some are simply atrocious. You know it, shades are everywhere.

Now, very recently did I come to know that in Tamil literature, a fictional tale that is weaved around a couple or more incidents or points coming from the purānas or itihāsas is called a prabandha. Fun, right?

We do get to see fanfictions in Hinduism by the name of Pancharātram by Bhāsa (the one who also penned Svapna Vāsavadattā) and Kalidāsa's Abhigyāna Shākuntalam. While the latter romanticises and adds non canon events to the canon event of Lady Shakuntala and King Dushyanta's love story, the former is about a "what-if" scenario based on the Mahabharata.

So, do we promote fiction writings on such stuff? Definitely. I got much into the Sanatana culture solely via such fictions. They promote higher thinking skills, brainstorming, even fun facts many a times if the author is literate enough. And is that different from disrespecting scriptures and our very own ancestors? Also yes. Because neither of these authors claim to strictly follow the canon events. You do not like something you see, click away. As easy as that.

Do I support all of them, tho? For sure not. There are some which whitewash the bad guys and blackwash even the divine figures. Some straight up induce cringe. But that's just my opinion. A debate is always based on facts, not personal opinions. So yes, you do you.

But are they also dangerous? Umhm. Look at the Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. One word : atrocious. Some modern day prabandha style novel which sat a little above average in my reading experience? Abhaya by Saiswaroopa Iyer is the one (she's also written Mauri, Avishi, Draupadi and a few more if I'm not wrong.) (Abhaya is an OC paired opposite Kanha and tbh their chemistry was chef's kiss jsjshdjsjd-)

Should you write such, if that is what you want? Yes! I'd love to read-

But do you have to be careful with the message you deliver via your work? Swayam vichar kijiye *wink wink*

Some fanfictions which I may recommend. Note : not all of them involve OCs. All of these are from Wattpad. The authors' usernames are in bold.

— To Love A Murderer, Hope Embodied, and Samsrishti ; ruhitherambler.

— Satata Haritam ; Ramayana_Lover.

— Hello Mahabharata and My Days In Mahabharata ; thewomanwhobleedsink.

— Sambhavāmi ; indeevara18ls.

— Mathuraraaj ; Shivran86.

— Ehi Murare ; kanakangi.

— The Diary Of A Gopika ; Thoughtshub.

[lucyskywalker]

This will be critical towards 600 strikes. Don't like, don't read.

"Oh, but Dyomedes stabbed a god..."

The last time I checked this story is not about Dyomedes and the God in question wasn't Poseidon.

The context and message behind the myth is completely different. Actually, the message behind Dyomedes duel with Ares and Aphrodite is the opposite. It's to establish one of the main themes of the epic: how human choices and efforts become insignificant when fate and immortals are in control.

Dyomedes myth only proofs that if Poseidon wanted Odysseus dead for good, he would be dead. End of the story.

Odysseus was punished by his Hubris. Like Lesser Ajax was before him, like Niobe and her children also were slain by Apollo and Artemis.

It wasn't just a torturing journey for some petty reason.

It was a lesson.

And when he learned that lesson, he went back home.

Using Dyomedes to defend what happend in 600 strikes is literally absurd.

"Oh, but Poseidon deserved it."

The fact you say that proofs u don't know shit about Greek Mythology and how it is deeply rooted in how this ancient society worked and worshipped those gods.

Poseidon didn't deserve any of this. Not within this myth.

Odysseus was the one who committed Hubris, over and over again during his journey.

Odysseus was the one who believed to be above the gods due his witty and cunning nature.

Odysseus was the one who put his crew in danger because of his own pride more than once.

Odysseus was the one to harm Poseidon's son and left him alive in an act of mockery during the Odyssey.

Even during the retelling of Jorge in Epic the musical, many things Odysseus have done are pretty much debatable and are the roots of all his problems.

Even in Jorge's retelling, he stablishs angering the gods is not a good idea. Like in the song Munity, when Eurylochos kills Apollo's cows (or Hellio's).

Even before it, he established that not hearing them or going against them is not smart choice.

My Goodbye and Remember Me.

Odysseus tought he was wiser than Athena for showing mercy. But the fact is... he wasn't and he paid the price for believing such thing. Which can also be depicted as a consequence of Hubris.

It happend again during his entire journey later on. Odysseus choose to go to the underworld to avoid Poseidon. He choose to sacrifice six of his remaining men to not face Poseidon.

Because Poseidon is that much of a threat. It is a force of nature so powerfull, Odysseus cannot expect to face it.

Later, in Thunder Bringer, once again we are reminded of how powerfull, mighty and terrifying the gods truly are

Making some kind of final battle between Odysseus and one of the eldest gods, where he ends not only torturing Poseidon, but also commanding him, and somehow gets out alive, not only goes against all his journey lessons and everything the Odyssey is about, but it is also extreamly ooc of Jorge's own writing.

Odysseus never rellied on strength and a face to face battle to win.

Actually, he is "a warrior of the mind". He rellies on strategies and deceptions. He was never meant to be like Herakles nor Achilles.

And be helped by the ghosts of his dead crew? When he is pretty much the reason why they are, uk, dead? Even if they were willing to help, how did they left the Underworld? By a bus of ghosts?

What is Hades doing? Throwing a party?

I'm not even going to debate the jetpack stuff.

You can say whatever you want to apologize the writing be it "the fates wanted that way, so it doesnt matter", "he won because of Ares's blessing".

Whatever. You just crossed the line of an adaptation to a straigh up fanfiction.

Study the classics about the tale you so claim to love instead of saying so many things with no basis with so much pride.

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 2)

My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love. Part 1 here.

A Steamy Conversation by @madbutgloriouspond. Yoongi x f! reader. You walk in on a half-naked, dripping wet, tangerine haired Yoongi, he's mean and cocky and the inevitable happens. Smutty perfection from Memes.

Clockwork Heart by @vyduan. Yoongi x reader. The chaebol tsundere Yoongi that I'll never stop screaming about. A brilliant, capable reader, a hot Yoongi who does secret acts of kindness, and beautifully rendered side characters including wise and witty BFF Seokjin.

Knee-high by @jjungkookislife. Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. A sexy, skirt wearing, orange haired, watermelon chapstick using Yoongi with a lip piercing in a smutty, enjoyable read.

I'm not even gonna say it by @taetaespeaches. Yoongi x reader. An incredibly cute, fluffy read, where Yoongi stops for lemonade on a swelteringly hot day.

Fireworks by @starlostjimin. Yoongi x f! reader in an established relationship. A soft, fluffy, spicy story with the domestic Yoongi of my dreams.

Too hot to sleep by @gamerguk. Fiance Yoongi x reader - a short, smutty read with a hilarious cameo from Hobi at the end.

The Sweetest Thing by @illneverrecover. A super cute sweet treat featuring a grumpy florist Yoongi and a baker reader.

Kinkmas Day Four drabble by @monimonimoon. A deliciously hot, petty co-worker Yoongi at the office Christmas party.

On the nature of living by @sugalaritae. Griddle's an incredible writer, and this very beautiful story starts off with Yoongi x a ghost reader and resonates so much with me emotionally.

Home by @junghelioseok. Secret agent AU with Yoongi x reader. Short, sweet and comforting.

Set me free by @hesperantha. A time-travel tale with tragedy of epic proportions. You won't have read anything else quite like it.

The one with Yoongi, Netflix and zero chill by @eoieopda. A hilarious reader, a fluffy and cuddly Yoongi and softness and feelings all round.

Yoongi is a rock by @yoongsisbae. A beautifully written story that made me think about mortality and constancy and has the singularly beautiful line ‘And when Yoongi cracked he thought of you’. It gives me chills remembering it. Stunning.

The one with Yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas by @eoieopda. I knew I was in for angst when I started reading but I didn't bank on the beautifully realised longing and characters I wanted to cry for. I adore this.

Best served cold by @anotherbtswriter. Yoongi and afab reader in a mafia AU with drama, tsundere Yoongi energy and a duplicitous family. Riveting.

Bao by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Delivery boy Yoongi x chef reader. One of the first Yoongi stories I read, and have re-read so many times since then. This Yoongi's so perfectly characterised, and there's a cameo from a sexy model Taehyung too.

Dominance and Domesticity by @theharrowing. A Yoongi who doms you in the bedroom and also does ironing? Where do I sign up? Sexy perfection.

Cybersex by @gimmethatagustd. Yoongi x f! reader. Reader is a phone sex hotline operator in this brother's best friend AU. Featuring a hot, confident, capable Yoongi who nearly set my screen on fire.

Shameless by @vyduan. Idolverse AU with Yoongi and reader. A stunning story, part of the Her multiverse series, with complex, layered characters that are so beautifully human. One of the first stories I read when I started reading BTS fanfic, and one I won't forget.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Literary Terms

Allegory. A kind of story that has a meaning deeper than its obvious one, and it’s a sort of extended metaphor. A famous example is Bunyan’s "The Pilgrim’s Progress", which ostensibly tells the tale of the journey of its protagonist Christian, but has a symbolic meaning that describes the journey of a Christian from Earth to Heaven. In Medieval times, allegory was commonly used to communicate religious messages, but later it became a way of commenting on politics or society. "Gulliver’s Travels" by Jonathan Swift and "Animal Farm" by George Orwell are both examples of allegories that use bizarre stories as parallels for real political and social situations; Swift was commenting on everything from particular politicians to entire countries, while Orwell’s tale reflects events in the run-up to the 1917 Russian Revolution.

Aside. A device that has been used in plays for centuries, involving a character directly addressing the audience without the other characters being able to hear. It’s part of the story, usually kept brief and often used comically to gossip or make a comment about another character behind their back. Some films make use of this technique too, with a character looking directly into the camera to address viewers, known in this context as ‘breaking the fourth wall’. This is something "Amelie", the eponymous heroine of the French film that bears her name, does frequently by whispering conspiratorially to the audience.

Litotes. Understatement used for rhetorical effect, and usually makes use of double negatives for emphasis. For example, rather than stating overt enthusiasm for something, one might say that it was “not bad”. Another example might be “He’s not unintelligent”, as a means of saying that someone is intelligent (or even a genius). While understatement might at first seem a peculiarly British trait, the use of litotes is common in a number of European languages, and was a strong feature of Old English poems and Icelandic sagas. There are also instances of its use in the Bible, and even as far back as Homer’s epic "The Iliad", in which Achilles is described by Zeus as “neither unthinking, nor unseeing”.

Pathetic fallacy. A literary device in which human emotions are attributed to aspects of nature, such as the weather. For instance, the weather can be used to reflect a person’s mood, with dark clouds or rain present in a scene involving sorrow. It’s a form of personification. A novel that famously makes use of pathetic fallacy is Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte, the stormy characters and tumultuous relationships of which are reflected in the novel’s setting: the bleak Yorkshire Moors. Ferocious thunderstorms mirror Heathcliff’s aggression, and elsewhere reflect the turmoil Cathy must go through in choosing between Edgar and Heathcliff. Pathetic fallacy is even present in the name of the novel, which is also the name of the farmhouse in which the story is set; the word “wuthering” refers to wind so strong that it makes a roaring sound, or to a place characterised by wind that roars. Such threatening weather is used to create a sense of foreboding, forming a menacing backdrop to a story populated by characters whose violent and jealous temperaments are hugely destructive to themselves and others.

Stream of consciousness. This literary technique describes a character’s interior monologue (a continuous flow of thoughts going on in the character’s mind). It’s a technique that came to the fore in the 20th century, famously championed by Virginia Woolf in "To The Lighthouse" and, more bafflingly, by James Joyce in his groundbreaking novel "Ulysses", in which the idea of a stream of consciousness is taken to its extreme. Trying to represent the randomness of human thought processes literally, Joyce penned paragraphs like this: “My missus just got an. Reedy freckled soprano. Cheesparing nose. Nice enough in its way: for a little ballad.”

More: Word Lists

[smilerri]

many thoughts about epic: the musical...

i am once again in the middle of essay writing but plautus is boring and my friend introduced me to this album so u already know I binged the entire thing

(quick warning for spoilers of homer's odyssey? if that's necessary?? man idk whatever)

first thoughts naturally concerned odysseus. i have hated this man with a burning passion ever since I started studying classics - i think he is irredeemably selfish, a liar masquerading as a 'resourceful hero,' and basically just a twat all around. that being said, i respect that epic is not an exact replica. in fact, i like that about it!

readings of odysseus as a loving husband and father, and a man who cares deeply for his crew and fellow warriors is one i would love to see reflected in the source text (though i admit i have only read two different translations so far, so this is subject to change depending on translators choice!), if only because it would be so so refreshing. and epic does that extremely well! i find epic's odysseus to be far more likeable, insofar as he is fueled not by greed for glory (kleos for the nerds out there) but rather the desire to return to his wife and son. (I personally would argue that, while homer's odysseus is indeed fueled by a desire for homecoming (nostos), it is not for the sake of penelope and telemachus, but rather concern over the security of his status and position within the household (oikos))

i also very much enjoy that the love he holds for his family is not an inherently positive trait. in the aeneid, and often in myth, it is achilles' son, neoptolemus/pyrrhus who kills the son of hector and andromache, astyanax by throwing him from the walls of troy - less common, it is odysseus (which i did not know until i googled it just now oops). homer's odysseus does not reject the gods. he is beloved by some, hated by others - he receives their boons and curses as they come. he revels in the attention of the divine, no matter positive or negative, for it is proof of his kleos. epic's odysseus is so much more... human. he doesn't vie for glory that reaches the skies. if anything, he rues it. in the horse and the infant he supplicates himself to (who i assume is) zeus - which is such a loaded act i am genuinely struggling to think of how to articulate it, but boy am I gonna try my darndest.

the act of supplication and guest-friendship (xenia) is a very key theme within the odyssey, and to a point in the iliad also - essentially, if a traveller were to arrive at your doorstep, you were obliged to let them in and provide food, drink, and lodgings to that traveller, no questions asked. in return (because reciprocity is VERY important in homer especially), the guest would provide entertainment, tales of their travels, etc, and would be respectful of their host. the patron of these travellers was zeus. any violation of these terms, on part of the guest or host, would be met with divine scorn. for odysseus to supplicate himself to zeus is therefore meta as hell, but I would instead bring attention to the echoing lyric "hes bringing you down to your knees." 'he,' assumedly, is astyanax. his father, hector, is dead; as is his grandfather, priam, and all of priam's other sons. at this point, one could assume that it is astyanax who is ruling troy, who is now the host of the city that odysseus, a traveller from another land, has entered and ransacked. zeus' 'prophecy' of astyanax growing old and seeking revenge (reciprocity! homeric greece had a 'revenge culture' - essentially 'an eye for an eye' as well as 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours,' though not always so clear-cut), therefore, would be odysseus' punishment for violating the terms of xenia.

supplication, however, is not limited to guest-friendship alone. for example, in odyssey 22, when odysseus slaughters the suitors occupying his home (is that spoilers?), their priest leodes supplicates himself at odysseus' feet, begging to be spared. odysseus takes his head from his neck in an instant. odysseus' kneeling before astyanax, therefore, is no simple act between a guest and his host - perhaps he is begging the infant for mercy, for forgiveness, or perhaps he is positioning himself for punishment; in killing astyanax, odysseus accepts his own death. perhaps this means his fate (which, in case of homeric epic, refers to the time and manner of one's death), or perhaps it is a part of him that has died. in just a man, odysseus asks "when does a man become a monster?" his killing astyanax prevents the boy from ever becoming a man, and spares him from a life fueled only by revenge and the need to regain his glorious birthright, and it turns him into a monster. just as he says he would, he trades in the world where he is 'just a man' for a world where he is a cruel beast, all for sake of his family.

(quick detour but i really like how odysseus' focus is primarily on penelope rather than telemachus. [insert deadbeat dad joke here], but in reality, he doesn't even know the boy. penelope he chose to marry and fall in love with - it's no question that he loves telemachus, but after ten years, it is only natural that he would miss his beautiful, tricky wife with more fervour than the child he never had the chance to love. it shows he is imperfect, even illogical - the son is the father's entire legacy. just as odysseus is 'son of laertes', so will telemachus be 'son of odysseus', the protector of his immortal heroic legacy. yet it is penelope whom odysseus yearns for.)

(another detour but "i'm just a man" is such a juicy lyric, because the entire message of homer's odyssey is that odysseus is not any man - he is a man that the muses deem worthy to inspire great poets to compose epic poems that persist through thousands of years and a million different voices - a hero. but epic's odysseus is not that hero. he is a man, trying to go home, craving comfort and the warmth of the hearth. these 'flaws' humanise him more than homer's odysseus could ever imagine.)

skipping over to polyphemus, odysseus violates xenia once again by killing polyphemus' sheep, albeit unwittingly. homer makes this violation very obvious - odysseus and crew eat polyphemus' cheese and wine while polyphemus tends to his sheep, knowing that the cave is obviously inhabited, and they even wait for polyphemus to return to ask for more. it is worth noting as well that, at this point, odysseus and crew are still jubilant about their victory, and unlike in epic, these 'detours' are purposeful, specifically so that odysseus can scope out the islands for anything of interest he can snatch and add to his spoils of war, adding to his kleos by means of physical wealth (timē) - which makes odysseus' offer of treasure to appease polyphemus all the more baffling in epic. this odysseus is a leader who prioritises the lives of his men over his own kleos, which makes the final lines - "you shall be the final man to die" // "what?" // "watch out!" - all the more heartbreaking. he wants to protect his men, so that they too may return to their families back on ithaca; the prospect of watching them die before his eyes after he already witnessed so many lose their lives in battle must be so utterly terrifying.

polyphemus is so excellently creepy as well! i loved him in the odyssey - this was where I really started to dislike odysseus, actually. he's a cyclops, obviously inhuman, yet he rears sheep and makes cheese and wine and weaves wicker baskets to keep them in, trying to play at humanity. i really did sympathise with him from the first time I read it. epic's polyphemus is similar, so very calm in his anger yet ruthless all the same, and demonstrates great restraint in comparison to his counterpart in the odyssey, who gets filthy drunk after mashing six men dead and allows odysseus+co. to fashion a stake with which to blind him. much of the violence against polyphemus, as well as the violation of xenia in homer's odyssey is 'excused' by the fact that polyphemus is a 'barbarian', to whom concepts of civilised people do not belong.

(very quick detour but polyphemus' first admonishment of odysseus - "you killed my sheep" up to "take from you like you took from me" - makes such heartbreaking parallels to astyanax's murder and the sack of troy. it almost provides a visualisation of the guilt that odysseus must still be battling. i would have loved to have been in his brain when he heard polyphemus say that.)

the mercy odysseus shows polyphemus is particularly interesting - homer's odysseus leaves him alive and tells him his name purely so that his name will spread and his kleos will grow. but epic's odysseus, despite his conviction to kill in survive and to avenge is fallen comrades in remember them, spares him. in part, this is to assure them an escape, so that the cyclops' giant body does not block their exit - but athena's interruption makes clear that this is not all. she criticises him, remarks "he is still a threat until he's dead." no doubt this calls back to zeus' warnings about astyanax, hence his refusal (or inability?) to commit to slaughter. for a homeric greek hero to allow a foe to live on after his allies had been slaughtered is a grave failure of reciprocity, casting shame on both the hero and their enemy. homer's odysseus escapes this with his reputation intact, since as a result polyphemus curses him to face poseidon's wrath - as I mentioned, for a hero, even negative attention from the gods is a good thing as it proves that their reputation/glory is known all over, even in olympus. but, as we have established, epic's odysseus cares not for kleos. the decision to tell polyphemus his name is entirely impulsive and irrational, grieving his comrades, hence athena's outrage.

the relationship between athena and odysseus is founded entirely on the principles they share, described in warrior of the mind (if anyone can lmk whereabouts this song fits in the timeline I will be so grateful, I'm stupid unfortunately :/). they value wisdom, reason, and rationality over brute strength and bloodlust. epic's athena becomes odysseus' patron goddess with the goal to "make a greater tomorrow" and "change the world" - aspirations that are entirely foreign to any homeric god. gods in homer do not care about the wellbeing of humans unless they are directly related to them, and they certainly don't care about the wellness of humanity as a whole. humans are toys and tools of the gods. the amount that athena cares for odysseus, even in the odyssey, is unusual, demonstrative of how much she cares for him, yet epic makes their comradery more obvious, even going as far as to (tentatively) call them friends. my goodbye frames athena's anger as disappointment at an experiment failed - calling back to warrior of the mind, where she claims to have "designed" him - but odysseus' replies to her makes clear that it is far more personal. perhaps, to her, odysseus acting so irrationally is even a betrayal; odysseus is abandoning the principles of reason they both once held and thus is forsaking all that they once shared and that she, as the goddess of wisdom, stands for.

ive always considered athena to be a very interesting goddess. she is a patron of both war, which in homer is only carried out by men, and weaving, the traditional work of women within the household - her very nature is a contradiction of masculine and feminine. although it is ares who is considered the 'black sheep' of the olympians for his brutality in war, epic's portrayal of athena through odysseus' lens paints her as lonely and ostracised - "since you claim you're so much wiser // why's your life spent all alone? // you're alone." It is clear that odysseus here does not view her as his patron at all, rather as a friend - and to that she takes offence, because she is a goddess, eternal and all-powerful. she does not need friendship or comradery; those are mortal concerns alone. personally, I see epic's athena as incredibly insecure. she cuts odysseus off because she cannot bare that a mortal has been able to read her so clearly, to see all the ugly parts of herself that she keeps hidden to retain the facade of the perfect goddess. she knows the paradox within herself - warrior and woman, immortal and alone - and rues that odysseus was able to see it as well. the cruellest part, the most ironic, is that his being able to figure out the true, imperfect nature of a god shows that he has not abandoned the path of the warrior of the mind. in fact, his wisdom extends beyond mortality into the realm of the divine. but athena is blinded by her anger and insecurity, and she says her goodbyes. she disappears from there, only to appear again to try to warn odysseus of his crew opening the bag of winds given to him by aeolus in keep your friends close, once again demonstrating her care for him, despite her anger.

the amount that odysseus cares for his crew is demonstrated time and again throughout the album, yet in the end, he still slowly loses their trust. aeolus' winds are the first sign. his crew betrays his orders upon the first whisper on the wind that he might be keeping treasure from them. the next sign, in puppeteer, is eurylochus' confession upon arrival to aeaea (circe's island), which odysseus brushes off, much as he brushed off eurylochus' concerns in luck runs out. then, in a matter of moments, 600 men are reduced to forty by the wrath of poseidon - which in itself is a significant change. while odysseus in epic is explicitly blamed for failing to kill polyphemus, homer's odysseus takes no responsibility for the deaths of hundreds of his men. it happens when they arrive at telepylos, which, unbeknownst to them, is home to the laestrygonians, a race of cannibalistic giants. odysseus, apparently sensing something off (who tf does he think he is, spiderman?), allows his entire fleet to enter the bay of telepylos while his ship alone remains outside - and when those ships are attacked and trapped, he alone takes his single ship and escapes, allowing twelve ships of men to be ripped apart and eaten by cannibals. an act which he shows no remorse for.

in my interpretation of homer's odyssey, it is this slowly slipping trust that eventually leads to his men ignoring his warnings and feasting on the cows of helios which leads to the deaths of all his remaining crew, including eurylochus and polites (spoilers? idk). so, once epic: the musical catches up to book 12 of the odyssey you WILL be seeing me again I hope ur excited.

there is definitely more i could say here, especially about the circe saga bcs ohhh my god I love circe and I love this circe especially (a female character with actual motive other than being a victim? homer could never) but unfortunately I'm running out of steam and I do in fact have 3 essays due this month (help) so I will probably return to this later !! hopefully its readable bcs I'm not going back to edit any of this ;)

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Fantasy Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries below:

Crier's War duology (Crier's War, Iron Heart) by Nina Varela

Impossible love between two girls —one human, one Made. A love that could birth a revolution. After the War of Kinds ravaged the kingdom of Rabu, the Automae, Designed to be the playthings of royals, took over the estates of their owners and bent the human race to their will. Now, Ayla, a human servant rising the ranks at the House of the Sovereign, dreams of avenging the death of her family… by killing the Sovereign’s daughter, Lady Crier. Crier, who was Made to be beautiful, to be flawless. And to take over the work of her father. Crier had been preparing to do just that—to inherit her father’s rule over the land. But that was before she was betrothed to Scyre Kinok, who seems to have a thousand secrets. That was before she discovered her father isn’t as benevolent as she thought. That was before she met Ayla. Set in a richly-imagined fantasy world, Nina Varela’s debut novel is a sweepingly romantic tale of love, loss and revenge, that challenges what it really means to be human. Fantasy, epic fantasy, science fiction, young adult, secondary world, romance

The Burning Kingdoms series (The Jasmine Throne, The Oleander Sword, The Lotus Empire) by Tasha Suri

Author of Empire of Sand and Realm of Ash Tasha Suri's The Jasmine Throne, beginning a new trilogy set in a world inspired by the history and epics of India, in which a captive princess and a maidservant in possession of forbidden magic become unlikely allies on a dark journey to save their empire from the princess's traitor brother. Imprisoned by her dictator brother, Malini spends her days in isolation in the Hirana: an ancient temple that was once the source of the powerful, magical deathless waters — but is now little more than a decaying ruin. Priya is a maidservant, one among several who make the treacherous journey to the top of the Hirana every night to clean Malini’s chambers. She is happy to be an anonymous drudge, so long as it keeps anyone from guessing the dangerous secret she hides. But when Malini accidentally bears witness to Priya’s true nature, their destinies become irrevocably tangled. One is a vengeful princess seeking to depose her brother from his throne. The other is a priestess seeking to find her family. Together, they will change the fate of an empire. Fantasy, epic fantasy, politics, romance, adult, secondary world, series

[blradley]

intro powerpoint for that one whacky passion project of mine -

Do you enjoy unreliable narrators with a distinctive voice?

Do you like characters who have done genuinely bad things, and now have to Work Through All That while consciously choosing to be better?

Do you like characters who have redemption arcs dangled in front of them, and instead choose to be worse?

Then jump aboard a flying whale and set sail into no man's sky with

Voxalion Ilsair: Grave of Gods!

Cursed by a relic of their long-dead gods, Vox and Mavrik are bound to each other, life to life. If one dies, so shall the other – which is a problem, as Vox wants to eradicate humanity, Mavrik included; and Mavrik wants nothing more than to kill Vox, the lightning elemental who slaughtered her family. Their only hope of breaking the curse lies in the gods' tomb, located on a legendary lost island that rises above the endless Eversea. Mavrik and Vox embark on an expedition, braving skywaymen and sapient storms, so they can be free of each other – and commence their overdue duel to the death. But Mavrik and Vox aren't the only ones seeking the grave of the gods. When they cross a cult intent on claiming the gods’ powers for themselves, Vox and Mavrik learn that they have far worse enemies than each other.

Genre: adult solarpunk fantasy Suitable age range: 15+ (no explicit content but some swearing, violence, and creepy monsters) Status: with my wonderful agent for edits!

Image Descriptions:

Powerpoint slide with a blue sky background. Text reads: “HUMANITY HAD FALLEN. Unfortunately, they got back up again.” The quote is attributed to: Voxalion Ilsair, being a prat, as per the uzshe

Dark blue sky background, title of Worldbuilding Be Upon Ye. Text reads: Okay so hear me out. What if the gods created an amazing utopia where technology and magic were intertwined and humans and zstragi (fey forces of nature) lived side by side But then something went wrong. Their world ripped itself apart and the mountains crumbled and the seas rose and some monstrous force came and wiped out all the gods?? What if an approximate ten thousand humans survived in nine flying cities, situated across the drowned globe? And what if they began rebuilding their civilization – clumsily, desperately, devastated by the loss of 99% of their population? What if they were living in hollowed-out solarpunk temples to the dead gods, surrounded bydangerous artifacts that they didn’t understand, desperately scrabbling for survival on a hostile planet? What if, gradually, the tales of their past became warped by myth and conflicted retelling? What if the humans and zstragi were at war? And had been for centuries? Because, in their relentless struggle of survival, they began to consume each other? What if there were whispers that a treasure trove of ancient knowledge had survived the Cataclysm, hidden deep in zstragi territory: the lawless, storm-ravaged chaos of No Man’s Sky? A meme-drawing of a stick figure holding their head and looking perturbed while covered in sweat, is tucked in one corner of the slide. The caption reads 'okay that's enough world building'

Turquoise sky background. Text reads: TL; DR: In a world where land is a long-lost legend… Where whale carcass blimps, fat with helium, swim through an endless lightning-lashed sky… Where flying cities are beset by sentient storms… …an unlikely group of heroes embarks on an epic journey…

Pale blue sky background with a flying whale. Text reading: That's right! It's Voxalion Ilsiar: Grave of Gods by B. L. Radley

Piccrew of Vox, a blue-green skinned hairless inhuman being with pointed ears, sharp teeth, three eyes, and facial tattoos. Introductory text reads: Voxalion Ilisair, they/them Your humble narrator, providing you with a 100% trustworthy recollection of events ❤️ zero bias here. none whatsoever❤️❤️ (okay so maybe they’re a zstragi terrorist who wants to annihilate humanity) (what a shame it would be if, over the course of the story, they begin to question everything they’ve been taught hahahaaha) Ridiculously OP lightning zstragi who was raised to be a mass-murder weapon. Then they got nerfed by a little girl Now that little girl is all grown up. The divine artifact that tore away Vox’s powers also bound them to her soul – meaning, if she dies, Vox dies. Dammit. Tinkerbell-sized, with attitude to match. N#1 fear: becoming human

Piccrew of Mavrik, a white tan-skinned woman with short fluffy pale blonde hair, blue eyes, and half her face torn off, with lightning scars radiating out from the hole in her cheek that shows off her molars. Text reads: Mavrik Skarr, she/her Vox’s worst enemy. Their foresworn foe. Their nefarious nemesis… Okay, so maybe Vox killed her family and tore her face and (quite literally) broke her heart, and Mavrik swore she would have revenge First though, she’s gotta undo this stupid curse As a stormhunter, Mav is employed to slay zstragi like Vox Grumpy and stoic, she struggles to emote. prefers grunting to talking, and fighting to grunting Has suffered from heart problems since The Curse. Uses Vox as a defibrillator/pacemaker. Basically an unsocialized feral kitten who has 0 clue how to interact with anyone she isn’t battling to the death Juggling her desire for friends against her natural awkwardness, her lack of experience with other humans, and that dark, ugly inclination towards violence that whispers away in the back of her mind… N#1 fear: becoming a monster

Secondary characters slide. First piccrew is of Oliaris, a Black man with a delicate, pretty face, wearing expensive jewellery. Text reads: Oliaris, he/him Nice friendly guy who never did anything wrong in his entire life (I lie. there are atrocities.) (he is coming to terms with the atrocities. But it’ll take a while… 😉) Delicate pretty city-boy who prefers the finer things in life, but is living the Chronic Pain LifeTM instead Super-smart ex-scientist. why ‘ex’? haha don’t worry about that Gets dragged into helping Vox and Mavrik break their curse – but has an agenda of his own… Second picture is of Atticus, a white man with red-brown hair and freckles, in a labcoat. Text reads: Atticus, he/him SPEAKING OF EXES AND ATROCITIES - Has a somewhat turbulent past with Oliaris (they fucked. they absolutely fucked. they 100%, totally fucked.) Now he’s Oliaris’ bitter rival, racing to beat him to the grave of the gods and the treasure trove of ancient knowledge stashed therein Shy, awkward people-pleaser who just wants everyone to like him 😔 Don’t ask about the bloodstains. just. don’t. 🙂

Tertiary characters. First piccrew is of Sylvestra, a Black woman with similiar features to Oliaris. Text reads: Sylvestra, she/her Oliaris’s sister: a professional storm-hunter employed by Atticus who detests her brother. For reasons. Tries to be cold-hearted and unfeeling. isn’t very good at it. Deep down, she just wants her family back :c Next piccrew shows an Asian individual with long black hair and a tattoo on their throat. Text reads: Jagura, they/them Captain of a skywayman ship that terrorizes the vessels of No Man’s Sky Impulsive and friendly, but ruthless. Will rob you while chatting like you’re besties Here for a good time, not a long time xoxo Piccrew 3: a bulky purple inhuman creature with long pointed ears and tattoos. Text reads: Renzou, he/him Jagura’s loyal first mate Will rob you while apologizing profusely Protective and kind Humans are friends, not food! Fourth piccrew: a white boy with pale hair and very blue eyes. Text reads: ??? [no name or pronouns] Once upon a time, a boy crawled into the mouth of a dead whale. What crawled out was changed forever…

stormy grey background to the slide. text reads: One shared goal: To pilot their whale blimp safely through no man’s sky and find the lost grave of gods Conflicting ambitions: To undo a curse. to regain lost power to kill an old enemy. to restore reputation. To seek priceless treasure. To save the world – wait, what?

Quotes page, set against a blue sky background. Quotes are: ‘Zstragi ate humans, sure. But humans devoured us with equal impunity: crushing our heart-stones, shredding our life-force to add power to their grid and keep their impossible cities aloft.’ ‘As occurred approximately two dozen times a day, Mav got that look on her face that meant she was contemplating tossing me into the oceans and letting fate run its course. As also occurred approximately two dozen times a day, she decided against it. Grudgingly.She and I were trapped together. For better or worse, in sickness or health, till death did we part…’ “I spy with my three glowing eyes…” “Shut up, Vox.” and ‘The distant slurry of Mavrik’s thoughts slid against my own, lumpy with old memories. Dead parents, dead families. Dead-dead-dead; burnt from the inside out, eyeballs popped like squashed flies and tongues crisped to charcoal— Time was said to heal all wounds, but it couldn’t erase their scar. I awkwardly cleared my throat.’

Themes page, with a picture of several angel statues. Text reads: The way ahead is fraught with danger. Secrets abound, old  grudges flare, and hungry storms gather on the horizon… Themes: Humanity. What does it mean, to be human? Are some cruelties so great that the offender should never be redeemed? Equality. At what point do we decide that one life is worth more than another? Why? Family. How do you know when a bond is broken beyond repair?

Dark blue sky background, with text reading: What else have we got? #macguffins #unreliable narrator #enemies to…? #lovers to rivals #copious footnotes #corruption arcs #redemption arcs #multiple queer and disabled characters! #body horror #unique cultures #flying whales #solarpunk aesthetic #in-depth, innovative world building. A stick-figure meme sits in one corner, showing a character grabbing another person's shoulders and digging their nails in to hit blood, their face a grimace of pain. The text beneath reads: 'so much more world building'

[blood-orange-juice]

ok so ive never properly played genshin and don’t plan to but i know a bit about it’s lore and characters and i think it’s really neat. however i have thousands of hours on ffxiv. on that note please explain why graha and childe are similar. i only have very basic knowledge on childe and i gotta know

Fellow ffxiv enjoyer. <3

(anyone asking me about G'raha has a 100% chance of getting a wall of text and I'm not apologising for that. enjoy your wall of text)

I'm not entirely sure I'm not a case of a person with a hammer to whom everything resembles a nail, but I do think they are the same archetype.

Sweet characters who could have been perfect sidekicks (who still are perfect sidekicks) but listened to too many epic tales as kids and found themselves in a wrong place at a wrong time and now have to play a key role in some universe-changing story.

Both are defined mostly by their stubborness, they are not very suitable for the roles they've chosen and fail over and over again until they do it somewhat right (barely).

No matter how badass they look, their power is not their own, G'raha is a glorified technician of someone else's miracle and little else than a living key, Childe wields an art of old Khaenri'ah without fully understanding it. It's all borrowed from someone else who needed them to achieve a goal.

They do look badass, but mostly because they larp. I'm honestly not sure which one enjoys theatrics more.

Civilisations that created the magic they use specialised in perversion of the natural order of things. They try to use it in relatively noble ways and mostly hurt themselves but the flavour is there.

Both are unbelievably tragic and both somehow make their stories seem almost lighthearted. Complete absense of self-pity. I think that's what makes them both so charming, it's a rare trait.

Both have an incredible capacity for loyalty and love and an incredibly twisted view of what relationships look like. "I'll cross time and space for you, I'll die for you, I'll build a city for you, I'll live for you but please don't ask me to share my plans." "I'll sacrfice my own health and respect of my subordinates to keep my brother's happyness, probably my humanity too, but don't expect me to actually interact with him."

Both have something that looks like self-sacrificial tendencies bordering on suicidality while being, if we are honest, a self-serving trait (partially born out of low self-esteem but still self-serving). They want to live in an old myth and sacrificing oneself is a perfectly reasonable price for that.

Huge egos. And I mean Huge Egos. It's a bit less obvious in Graha's case but I know the type, you see guys like that in PhD programs a lot.

Huge dorks. Both of them.

Both are stuck somewhere between human and non-human and, hmm... their ability to remain human is the most astonishing quality of both. By all accounts, neither should have. They somehow did.

Both are incapable of lying to the point where a third of each fandom headcanons them as autistic. Both are somewhat all right with tricking people without technically lying (although Childe had more practice).

Both are secretive because no one would understand anyway.

FF XIV is a kinder story, so it's easy to overlook, but technically G'raha is a case of body horror, accepts the role of a villain for a while and hides from the player way too much. Hmmm... Where else have I seen it. Hmm. Oh right. That ginger guy from Genshin.

Minor things:

Both are little shits and enjoy annoying the hell out of people they dislike.

Abysmally bad fashion sense. There should be a name for this particular type and level of bad. I don't think I've seen this anywhere else.

And then there's the colour scheme. Red+black+white+blue and red+black+light grey+blue (it's an "anime magician" color profile, I think. black-red-white as alchemy colours + blue as pure magic/something elemental). Childe doesn't quite fit but still the combination is rare.

They way they talk. Dear gods. Who the hell talks like that.

Here's where the similarities end.

One is morally grey but ultimately a good guy (technically. I think the point of ShB was that Emet and G'raha are almost the same), another is a morally grey but still (kind of) a bad buy.

At every step of his story Graha is surrounded by people who love or at least appreciate him, Childe is pretty much on his own and surrounded by people who are either shitty or clueless.

G'raha is kind. Truly and astonishingly kind, in a doomed world he chooses to love everything he touches. Silly little priest of hope. Of all the things he has done this is the most wondrous, I think. Not the time travel, not the city he founded, just being able to remain kind after everything that happened to him.

Childe is... well, Childe. I think he is a deeply decent person (to the point of having a visceral distaste for any kind of unfairness) and he's idealistic but he's indifferent more than he is kind. Empathy usually develops only when someone has shown the person empathy first and, as far as we know, he didn't have much of that in his life.

Also G'raha builds things. Childe breaks things. Childe breaks pretty much everything he touches.

One is an archeologist and a mage and another is a warrior.

I think these differences are caused mostly by the settings they were put into. Childe raised in Sharlayan would have been a very different person. G'raha trained by a voidsent and shipped off to Garlean military would look very much like Childe.

G'raha also has a beautiful character development arc. I love his ShB role. He has this huge ego in the raids and is insufferable and then we see an older and wiser him with a bunch of actual achievements and a bad case of impostor syndrome (trying to do anything real always humbles a person, we all know that real world is held together by sticks and scotch tape. honestly, this change alone is beautiful). And he gets to be an actual hero when he abandons all hope to be Important and resigns to die as a nameless villain if it saves everyone and spares his loved ones from heartbreak.

Childe's character development is yet to happen and I'm not hoping for much but we'll see.

The only difference that definitely isn't created by setting is that G'raha is naturally manipulative. In a kind-hearted way and mostly for the sake of better larp but he isn't that straightforward. Childe is spectacularly blunt for all his mysteriousness.

As a bonus, they both compare main characters to stars, but in completely different ways.

"No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course," says G'raha to the WoL.

Childe mentions the morning star, which is, of course, pretty and a good companion to a lonely traveler, but also it's not a celestial body you can chart your course by.

It's a guy whose signature weapon is called "Polar Star" and his first artifact set was full of nautical themes, so I think he fully understands what he's saying. "You are my friend but I won't change anything in my life for you."

So I don't think his story will be anything like G'raha's, his life took a different turn very long ago. I do think they used to be similar as kids, bookish boys who dreamed of adventure and being special. So it's fun to compare.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. <3