#god imagine if keeper was queer like for actually...

[bookwyrminspiration]

fun fact when i first joined the kotlc fandom/interacted with it online i was not at all up to date with the books, and so i did NOT know who ro was. however, i did not at all come to the conclusion that a new character had been introduced. instead, i came to the conclusion that ruy had became a good guy and transed his gender

the reason she's always wearing an addler is because she hasn't achieved her transition goals yet and doesn't want anyone to see or remember her until she has. bad guy -> good girl arc when shannon

[readingrobin]

Ooof this was probably my roughest month when it came to reading, Didn't really get a lot read since my schedule was jam packed and I didn't get as much reading in as I thought I would during vacation. To top it all off, the things I did manage to read mostly fell on the meh side of things, so I can't even say it was worth it for a few good reads. Oh well. I think I'll have better luck in November.

Total Books Read: 5

Total Pages Read: 1,713

Books Read:

Nightshade by Andrea Cremer (2.5/5) -

This book has been collecting dust on my bookshelves since the great vampire/werewolf YA fiction boom of the early 2010s. Really the only thing that's been keeping me from reading it has been circumstance and a deluge of other things I'd rather be reading. Big note to self, if the synopsis describes one of the teenage lead characters as "sexy," there's a good chance that I, an almost thirty year old adult, will get one of those ick feelings along my spine. It's one thing if it's coming through the perspective of a teenaged character, and another when you know it's more than likely coming from some middle-aged editor in a publishing office cubicle.

Now if I had read this over a decade ago, odds are I would have loved it. Awesome werewolf mythology that seemed very unique, a badass lead character that's not here for your girly dresses or makeup, sarcasm galore, oh yeah teen me would've eaten it up. While I can still appreciate the lore aspect, there are some qualities of the book that just tire me out.

Love triangles are always going to be some dodgy ground, particularly when you don't care for them or either of the love interests. Shay seemed so irresponsible and okay with constantly putting Calla in danger, even if it had the intention of trying to get her to see the truth behind the Keepers. Rey, though slightly better, made some comments here and there that set my teeth grinding, but at least it felt like he actually respected Calla at times. Pretty sure with how the story is going that Shay is ultimately going to win out in the end, which doesn't really encourage me to read any of the sequels.

At least pour one out for the gay werewolf representation in a time where queer characters, even queer side characters, were in short supply.

While I really liked the werewolf lore, the book also reinforces my least favorite werewolf trope, which is reinforcing incorrect "facts" about actual wolf pack dynamics to explain the weird sexism of the werewolf packs. I know it's all to make the term "alpha wolf" look cool and intimidating, but they literally do not exist. Wolf packs are made up of a mated pair and their kids/extended family. There's very little dominance involved. I know bringing actual reality to this werewolf book means absolutely nothing, but they did it first.

There's also an absurd amount of sexism, misogyny, and slut-shaming going on here and yes, I know it's all for us to realize that werewolf society is corrupt and has this weird propaganda thing going on to keeps the wolves in line, but god it's overbearing at times. It's really just a me thing, but I had to visibly cringe when one of the adults told Calla to "keep her legs shut." I don't know, maybe it was too much just because all the characters are like 15-17 years old and I'm entering my "old person yells at YA for being YA" era. God help me.

So yeah, lots of emotions with this one and I'm not sure if I want to continue the series just to get closure or not.

Don't Turn Out the Lights: A Tribute to Alan Schwartz's Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark edited by Jonathan Maberry (3/5) -

Seeing as I was a giant scaredy cat as a kid, I didn't really grow up with Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. I tried once, but Stephen Gammell's haunting illustrations proved to be too much for little me who already had an overactive imagination. Now that I have a little more stamina when it comes to horror and spooky pictures, I figured to give this collection a try to find some worthwhile middle grade horror. There are definitely strong contenders in this collection, some that'll even unnerve some adults. Others, well, they're there to give a little variety when it comes to the type and tone of the stories.

My favorites would have to be:

"The Carved Bear" "The Golden Peacock" "The Neighbor" "The Bottle Tree" "The Tall Ones"

I don't know if the collection decently balanced between the light spooky stories that were more humorous and the more traumatizing tales. There are two that sort of stick out like sore thumbs, those being R.L. Stine's and Sherrilyn Kenyon's contributions. Stine is known for his off the wall twists, but this one being a little bit more silly, yet typical for his kind of work, doesn't really make it mesh well with the majority of other stories that want to leave you with a shiver down your spine. Kenyon's poem has the same effect, having more of an innocent, playful tone that sets it apart from the other stories, but not in a memorable way. I think if the collection offered a few more stories like these it wouldn't be so noticeable. Each are completely fine on their own, but not when integrated into a collection that aims to leave lasting scares.

Also, it's REALLY noticeable that some of the writers are writing stories centered around certain cultures that aren't their own or that they have done very little research on. I may be as white as winter snow, but even I know that the Devil has nothing to do with Dia de los Muertos. 

The Ravenmaster: My Life with the Ravens at the Tower of London by Christopher Skaife (3/5) -

I have such a great fondness for corvids, be they crows, ravens, magpies, or even blue jays, so I figured this book would be right up my alley. Skaife delves into the history behind the ravens' presence at the Towers, which I was surprised but maybe not too much that it holds a legend that may not be as old and revered as once thought.

I've been to the Tower of London, which helped me visualize some of his stories. The ravens there are definitely a quirky bunch. I remember one that graciously allowed a seagull to peck a bit at their raw chicken lunch, only to shoo them off a few seconds after. This cycle would actually repeat itself a bit, a little nibble and then a shoo, it almost seemed like a sort of game. Anyway, they are very amusing birds and Skaife really does make their personalities shine in this book.

There were moments where the book lost a little steam or included something that seemed a bit superfluous. The chapter on ghosts around the grounds seemed a little out of place in a book about the Tower ravens and the stories get a little repetitive once you edge closer to the end. But if you have an interest in the Tower and its inhabitants, I recommend picking it up.

The Oddmire: Changeling by William Ritter (2.5/5) -

I'm not sure if this is a case of me reading this book at the wrong time or I'm just getting more picky with my middle grade fantasy, but I never really felt very invested in this one. It's a great setup for a story, two brothers venture into a dark magical forest to learn which one of them is human and which is a changeling left by a goblin one long ago night. They meet various friends and threats across the way, culminating in a wonderful depiction of family bonds and loyalty. I appreciated how involved their mother was in the story, who had absolutely no qualms about going into the dangerous forest to save her kids. I love seeing more competent parents in fiction, if only just to show kids that some grownups are capable of being helpful at times.

But, other than that, I didn't really get much out of the story. The brothers seemed very interchangeable, not really having distinguishable personalities so that ultimately it doesn't really matter who is human and who is the changeling. They both have the same worries and fears, the same goals, so there's nothing really to set them apart.

The writing style didn't really pull me in either, to the point where by the last couple of chapters I was doing more skimming than actual reading.

I will say that it is a decent fantasy for younger readers looking for a bit of adventure and magic. It twists some fairy tale conventions just enough to feel fresh while holding onto a few just for good measure. I've probably just read too many at this point to really appreciate it.

Watership Down: The Graphic Novel by Richard Adams, adapated by James Sturm, illustrated by Joe Sutphin (5/5) -

I stumbled upon Watership Down a little later in life, knowing full well of its status as one of those "Top 10 Films that Scarred You As A Child." At some point, I had seen the glorious intro to the film, where Frith bestows various gifts to the animals and El-Ahrairah displays his tricks and cunning, and that immediately sent me to the novel. It's a beautiful story, with lush descriptions of the downs and adventure that, while coming from so humble a place, keeps you interested from beginning to end. By some magic, James Sturm and Joe Sutphin managed to capture everything about this story that has delighted readers for decades.

Sutphin goes for a more naturalistic style, keeping the rabbits and other various animals expressive, but not too cartoony. It mostly keeps to a certain realm of reality, with colors that are more muted, but never do any sort of disservice to the setting. While I am a fan of styles that bush boundaries, this style is perfect for Watership Down that, while seemingly fantastical at times, is a very down to earth tale. There's a certain charm to it that comes from the simplicity of its setup, that is a group of animals just trying to survive.

Of course, not every plot point and character makes it through the process of adaptation. I am thankful that Sturm was able to include some of the folk tales of the rabbits, which was one of my favorite elements of the story. Naturally, to keep this story to a single volume and maintain a sense of flow, things would have to be reworked and shifted.

In my opinion, this graphic novel is an exemplary transfiguration on the original story that will please fans and hopefully entice new readers to the book.

Rating Average 3.2

[baura-bear]

OK MAURA FIRST OF ALL BANGER POST!!! AS FUCK!!!! 💯💯💯 and now i will take the opportunity to dump. a bit of info + thoughts about david and his fav polish books.

as i mentioned!! pan tadeusz (mr. thaddeus) by adam mickiewicz is definitely one of david's favorites. it's basically a very important (for polish folks obv) epic that tells a story about a bunch of people in a traditional polish manor house, it has elements of love and also mentions uprisings (fighting against the oppressors at that time) and i just. always imagined david's grandpa (before david had to leave poland) also telling davey stories about both the uprisings and how life used to look like in a manor like that or at least a village nearby! and i think davey just loves to reflect on that and his favorite part is definitely the description of how life looked like and how the house looked like and. yeah.

while talking about mickiewicz! he's just a well known poet and i think david likes his ballads in general. they're all from the romanticism epoque and so they're a little mystical and very dramatic (which davey learns to appreciate with age i imagine?) and he definitely loves some of the quotes from these. example (rough translation of course) "a heart isn't a servant, it does not know what a master is" and. i think that one little quote helped david connect with his queerness a lot especially!

ok moving on. i mentioned wesele (wedding reception?) by stanisław wyspiański. it got published in 1901 soo 2 years after canon but whatever. and basically it's a drama about a polish reception in a small traditional village style but its main charm is that it's also a critique of various polish attitudes at the time! i won't dwelve into it obviously because it could be boring but i just think that it would give david a grand old time with connecting all the subtle references to actual real life events and he definitely just loves the symbolism

and also. latarnik (light house keeper) by henryk sienkiewicz! a very short novella that tells a tale of a man who's supposed to turn the light on in a light house every single night, but one night he gets a shipment of a few polish books (such as pan tadeusz) and he gets very emotional about it because he spent 40 years away from poland and. i think david relates to that a little? he definitely misses his home at least a little (or at least some parts of it) and. yeah

and !!! you mentioned david loving long and good descriptions!! well then henryk sienkiewicz is known for that (and that's also usually why a lot of people [read: teenagers that have to read his books for school] don't like him)!! quo vadis, krzyżacy (teutonic order), potop (deluge) or w pustyni i w puszczy (in the desert and the wilderness) are all chok full of loooong descriptions of everything and davey would love that.

okay holy hell that turned out to be a little longer than i wanted it to be but ! i just have so many thoughts about david and his polish heritage! rant over. tee hee

Had to pause reading several times to giggle and scream into my pillows. DAAVVVEEEEE I’m just sitting here making different sounds trying to figure out how I can verbalize how much I love this. The thing about his grandpa reading to him??? 🥹🥹🥹scream sobbing. AND THE THE HEART QUOTE AND DAVEYS QUEERNESS HHHHHHHH OH MY GOD th thank you so much for sharing I am cradling this information like 🤲

I need to find this one fic I once read because it was just 🙌 idk why this made me think of it but I’m gonna find it and post it on here because I need the world to read it

[autolovecraft]

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live.

He changed his business, but something always preyed upon him. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. It was just as he had recognized old Matt's coffin that the door slammed to in the wind, leaving him in a dusk even deeper than before. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste.

He gave old Matt the very best his skill could produce, but was thrifty enough to save the rejected specimen, and to use it when Asaph Sawyer died of a malignant fever. As his hammer blows began to fall, the horse outside whinnied in a tone which may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. Several of the coffins began to split under the stress of handling, and he planned to save the rejected specimen, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. Birch, being by temperament phlegmatic and practical, did not shout long; but proceeded to grope about for some tools which he recalled seeing in a corner of the tomb. He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste. Clutching the edges of the aperture. Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude. God, what a rage! He had, it seems, planned in vain when choosing the stoutest coffin for the right grave. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb.

His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about.

Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree. It is doubtful whether he was touched at all by the horror and exquisite weirdness of his position, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the tomb. In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity. Over the door, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider. The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it.

Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr. Davis. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, just as I thought! Another might not have relished the damp, odorous chamber with the eight carelessly placed coffins; but Birch in those days was insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not an evil man.

He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. The skull turned my stomach, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the tomb. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass.

I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here.

He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. He was the devil incarnate, Birch, just as I thought!

Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks. As he planned, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made. On the afternoon of Friday, April 15th, then, Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude.

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. He could not walk, it appeared, and the source of a task whose performance deserved every possible stimulus. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass. For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. His day's work was sadly interrupted, and unless chance presently brought some rambler hither, he might have to remain all night or longer.

He worked largely by feeling now, since newly gathered clouds hid the moon; and though progress was still slow, he felt heartened at the extent of his encroachments on the top and bottom of the aperture, he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles. Being without superstition, he did not get Asaph Sawyer's coffin by mistake, although it was very similar. You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. I agreed that he was reduced to a profane fumbling as he made his halting way among the long boxes toward the latch.

[diandrarumi]

idk yall scorbus' trope of best friends to lovers is cute but its already pretty common and i want something new

you know what would be super interesting? scorpius x james sirius

like imagine scorpius trying to repress his crush on his best friend's older brother who's just suuuuper cool

like not only that james is albus' brother, but albus also kinda hates him?? well, not really, scorpius knows they love each other but they never been able to be in the same room for more than 10 minutes without bantering or bullying each other, he can only imagine how albus would react if he finds out that scorpius has a crush on james

but he just cant help it okay?!!!

and like yes, its definitely because james potter is like the star of the school, BUT its not even because his parents are hero harry potter and celebrity athlete turned respected journalist ginny potter

james potter is beloved by all bc of himself, hes super tall and handsome, hes confident but at the same time he never underestimate other people

hes extremely funny but never actually offend or hurt anyone

you know hes the type of guy who always nod or smile at anyone he passes by? even when he doesnt know their names? HOW IS HE SO FAMOUS AND YET SO POLITE?

and hes a QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN TOO???

do you know how hot and weird scorpius feels every time james the potter chaser goes head to head against albus the potter keeper at every quidditich vs slytherin match?

and how he always secretly cheers for james

and theres this one point, where some students were harassing scorpius by asking albus why would he even want to hangout with a 'beast' like that skinny malfoy kid

and sudden james potter just swooped in, hands on those students' shoulders, squeezing them hard while he forces a menacing smile at them, asking "you both seem to need glasses, because im pretty sure between those two lot, my brother would be the beast-

"hey-"

"-i mean i'm pretty sure i saw the whole school witnessed my dear beastly al attacked me when i turned his hair hot pink at last week's dinner, or should i remind you how albus attacked me by using the hex he casted on you lot?" said James, his smile is so wide and forced his handsome face turned into a maniac, the students visibly shuddered, shook their heads and fleed.

not to be dramatic, but scorpius' knees felt really weak after that

"you know, malfoy, my aunt hermione said that in this muggle fairytale, the beast befriends the beauty, so i guess you're pretty one stuck with this monster, eh?" james winked at him, nudging albus who looked like hes about ready to lunge at his brother again.

"dont make me hex you again you idiot"

"see, malfoy?" james shook his head dramatically "why do pretty people always have to deal with monsters"

james then just left the scene leaving albus muttering the hundred ways hes preparing to kill his brother

and scorpius even more infatuated

was james flirting with him? that was a flirt right? he called him pretty

oh GOD, JAMES POTTER THINKS HE'S PRETTY???

also i feel like everyone in the fandom kinda make james as the token straight guy and i hate that

my son is queer ok

[hangingslothcentral]

sirius black was done dirty and i’m mad about it

So you might have seen my big post about how dumbledore is a scumbag for his treatment of Harry, but like, Sirius was done so dirty by this motherfucker I cannot even. It makes me genuinely furious.

Think about it for a minute; Sirius is this wildcard kid. He’s raised in an abusive household, which he eventually flees, and ends up living with the Potters. His parents, in addition to being abusive, are also wizardnazi sympathisers, and Sirius’ younger brother, Reggie, grows up to actually BE a wizardnazi (he ends up being a crucial thorn in Voldy’s side and turns coats later, but he has to have actually joined in earnest).

Sirius is not a quiet, broken little thing in a straightforward sense. He’s a particular flavour of damaged which results in him being loud and brash. He simultaneously loves and loathes himself; he prances around like a show pony and kisses anything that breathes but ultimately beleives himself to be unlovable. He acts fast and rash because he doesn’t have a strong handle on his emotions. He doesn’t understand what healthy love and affection looks like, and often he’s mean to people because keeping them at arms length is less scary than letting them in. When he does allow people to get close, he is fierce, frightening and irrationally protective of them. Stand between Sirius and his friends and he will rip you limb from limb. Because he doesn’t really value himself or his own life, he’s way more likely to throw himself into dangerous situations, either because it allows him to feel fear in a way he can control, or because he genuinely doesn’t care if he lives or dies but DOES care if his people get hurt. Probably most of the time it’s a combination of the two. This is why his dog animagus form is so appropriate for him, imo; he’s not loyal and obedient like a labrador, he’s protective, he’s pack-driven, and he will protect his pack At All Costs.

Dumbledore has watched this kid roll in from the Black family and get sorted into Gryffindor. Dumbledore is a smart guy; he knows this will complicate Sirius’ relationships with his family. No biggy, really. Dumbledore has other shit going on; Voldybaldy is gaining power with frightening speed and ability. Every day the war gets closer and closer to Dumbledore and the school he has chosen as his stomping ground. Sirius getting ostracised is probably a good thing from a distance; the likelihood of him becoming a Death Eater is slimmer.

As he progresses through school Sirius is getting to be more and more of a nuissance. He, James, and Peter are in and out of detention all the time. He notices Sirius is becoming preoccupied with Remus Lupin; this could be a good thing in two respects. Remus is even less likely to end up outside of society if he has social ties, and you hoped him to make friends at school for this reason when you fought for his place. Sirius and James might even shake Remus out of his shell a little bit, maybe direct him towards being able to control himself when in wolf form, the way Fenrir Greyback can. Only this wolf would be on your side (maybe I should also write a ‘How Dumbledoodoo fucked over my boy Remus’ too). Dumbledore likely also hopes, as Remus assumes, that Remus will be a guiding light to his new friends and perhaps curb some of their less desirable habits. But the shenanigans continue, only more on the DL, more efficiently. Remus and Sirius become closer than Dumbledore had anticipated because he has a ton of internalised homophobia and assumes straight until proven queer and it won’t have occured to him that people he did not previously think of as particularly important have so complex a set of inner lives as to be creatures that fall for each other.

The extent to which Sirius will do anything, a n y t h i n g, to strike back at those who have hurt the people he loves becomes clear in his fifth year when he sends Snape into the tunnel under the whomping willow after Remus. Can you imagine how furious Remus would be with him for using him that way? Can you imagine how hurt he would be that Sirius did not even consider how he would feel if he killed someone? None of this would have occured to Sirius. He wanted to see Snape torn to shreds. Wanted him hurt, dead. Wanted him to suffer. How dare Snape insult his Moony? Did Snape think it was cool and fun for this to happen to him every month? Did he think it was a fun little puzzle to solve? Remus is not a puzzle and he is suffering, but he’s not meek and vulnerable, and he can stand up for himself. The obvious answer to this problem, to Sirius, is let Snape solve the riddle and then let Remus rip his head off. Easy, straightforward.

Thank god James went to Dumbledore and explained what was going on because had Remus actually killed or even hurt Snape in his wolf form, he may never have forgiven Sirus for facilitating it. As soon as this is pointed out to Sirius, it is plain to everyone there that he intensely wishes he could take his actions back but there is nothing he could do. And that moment where the egg cracks, where he realises he almost fucked up in a way that would mean one of the people he cares about most in the universe would never speak to him again, that would have happened when Dumbledore called him, James, Snape and Peter to his office after Snape’s life had been saved. Dumbledore would have watched these emotions blossom on Sirius’ face (maybe even sneaking a peak at his thoughts whilst he was at it). He would have known the intensity of Sirius’ feelings, his regret, and the reasoning as to why this unfolded. Dumbledore is not a stupid man. This is why he allows them all to return to school life as normal immediately afterwards with no more serious repurcussions than a slap on the wrist.

So at this point Dumbledore knows - does not suspect, k n o w s - that Sirius is reckless, loyal to a fault, and would go to any lengths imaginable to defend his friends, and their honour he probably also knows now Sirius is madly in love with Remus but that’s neither here not there even if it is important to note.

Time goes on, they finish school and become members of the Order. It’s not confirmed in the books but it’s fairly safe to assume from context that to be a member of the Order you have to have Dumbledore’s trust, in some capacity. In practice, that means Dumbledore reckons he’s got something on you and when it comes down to it, he’s the one holding the cards so you’d have to side with him for your own benefit. He’s earned James, Peter has never been a particular problem, Sirius owes Dumbledore his honour, and Remus would have had literally no opportunities in life were it not for Dumbledore. Thus, a loyal set of additions to his little wizardnazi fighting team.

The prophecy happens, James and Lily’s son is implicated, you know this part of the story. And they are killed by Voldy and Harry is packed off to the Dursleys to become an obscurial and the rest is history. But Sirius. S I R I U S. Sirius ends up in Azkaban for murdering Peter and a bunch of muggles. Yeah, surface level, to an outside observer, maybe this would make sense. Sirius was always a troublemaker, he came from a pureblood, traditionally Slytherin family with ties to voldemort. It would make sense it was him that betrayed Lily and James and also that he would kill Peter for challenging him. IF you only had a very scant awareness of Sirius Black, which we have already established, Dumbledore does not. He knows quite a lot about Sirius, actually. Has a firm grip on what he’s like.

See, Dumbledore never offers to be James and Lily’s secret keeper. It wouldn’t matter that he was an obvious choice, even if that was the reason he gave them. Voldemort is scared of Dumbledore. He would not have dared attack him, and besides, that is just not how the Fidelius Charm operates. Let it be one of the friends, and Dumbledore assumes James and Lily would choose Sirius because it’s Sirius, and he probably would have nudged them in that direction. Why? Because Sirius is rash and loyal to a T. If anyone is going to get killed, weaken the Fidelius charm by having a bunch of people as secret keepers instead of just one because he dies, it’s Sirius. Oh he’d go down in a blaze of righteous glory. But Sirius, by now, has learnt this about himself. He knows. So he tells James and Lily to choose Peter instead.

Dumbledore may not have explicitly known this, but he would have known that Sirius would have died before he betrayed his friends. He was probably actually counting on it. Knowing he was at the wreckage at the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow would have, should have been enough for Dumbledore to add up these pieces of information and infer that it was not Sirius who was secret keeper. The Fidelius Charm did not break; Peter gave the secret up. And when Sirius went to confront Peter, if Dumbledore had not yet worked this out, he should have guessed at this point what had happened, because of how Sirius was, what he’d have felt about Peter betraying Lily and James.

Anyway, none of the guessing really matters because had Dumbledore even visited Sirius just once, before his trial or after, he’d have heard the full story and put the pieces together. But he didn’t. He didn’t bother because Sirius wasn’t directly important to his plans. Because Sirius was supposed to die and weaken the charm anyway so Dumbledore could have his baby martyr. It didn’t go exactly as Dumbledore had thought, but it worked out mostly to his devices, so why bother asking Sirius for the details? Who cares if he is wrongfully imprisoned? He was always a pain in the neck anyway. 

I could go on but this is actually really long now hahahahahaaaaaaaa. yes so consider this pt. 2 of why dumbledore is the worst.

[ewdaviddd]

folklore think piece

for a lower case album such as this, i will be writing a lowercase think piece on the subject. i will not explain why. you get it or you don’t.

the 1: i have never been in love or any type of romantic relationship that left me with lasting feelings of any kind. but, on my fourth listen through of this song today, what once was just a promising and fun intro to this peasant girl summer gut punch, brought me to actual tears as i sat on the toilet in my lime green childhood bathroom as if i were mourning the one that got away (another great song). however, i am an expert on being hung up on the past, the “what could have been”, and made up hypotheticals. this song also introduces the film motif seen a lot in this album. i think dating an actor has really gotten to her. anyway what a killer way to begin, top notch stuff. how can a song be so fun and so soul crushing at the same time?

cardigan: when did taylor wear black lipstick? this is important to me. an old cardigan is an inherently bisexual article of clothing. that is not an opinion. i read it somewhere today and i believe it. this is the tip of the queer-coding ice berg in folklore, never fear. another reference, “tried to change the ending / peter losing wendy”. this year i wrote a movie script where both peter and wendy were both gay. coincidence? probably. basically this one is classic taylor poetry on every level and it being one of a trio in a larger story makes it that much better. yet again, high school romance is not a universal experience (like for me for instance) but haunting my “what-ifs” is going to haunt me for a long time. and the thought of someone saying i was their favorite cardigan makes me want to scream into a pillow.

the last great american dynasty: my favorite ts songs have always been the ones with detailed characters and stories and this one introduces the trope of the “mad woman” who comes back later on as well a long with many fun character details. at first this song is just cheeky and cute, very visual, a fun world to jump into. but then this particular stretch of lines makes your heart drop into your chest and reminds you why taylor isn’t just always fun and always cute and always creative, she also holds the ability to nimbly sock you in the gut when you least expect: “fifty years is a long time / holiday house sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.” my jaw is still on the floor. and i’ve never bought a house myself. but i’ve spent numerous christmases having a marvelous time ruining everything (so i’ve been told) so this song still applies to my life.

exile (ft. bon iver): i’m gonna be honest. for as long as i can remember i have strongly disliked bon iver and i never remembered why. it is a matter of principle at this point. i just don’t trust him. but then taylor announced she wrote a song with him which filled me with tremendous anxiety. but i can rest easy. much like “the last time” this song is a ts and male artist collaboration i can get behind. also the film motif again: the only time i’ve left a theatre when i didn’t like a movie was never because movie tickets are so expensive and if i’m shelling out 11 dollars to sit in a chair, i’m staying the whole time no matter how bad the ending. but i probably would have left my sister’s keeper if i had seen it before if i’m being honest. so i get it. thats why i read spoilers for everything i watch before watching it, because the anxiety of worrying about how it ends make me not enjoy it in the first place. the end of this song: the call and response felt… ethereal? i felt like i was watching a broadway musical from the splash zone seats, crying as i was spat on.

my tears ricochet: this song is what i picture stepping outside in the middle of the night when an inch or so of snow has just fallen and i can see the flakes fall in front of a street light sounds like. or the scorned secret ex lover throwing themselves onto the coffin demanding to know why they weren’t enough.   which is to say it feels like a sign from some sort of god. yet again, haunting is brought up, an overt reference to the fact that this album will live in my brain rent free for eternity. for some reason this song reminds me of the relationship between hamilton and burr when burr kills hamilton. that could be because i just watched the disney+ recording last week. one lives, one dies, but neither survive, both pay for it. Which is a super romantic and understanding view on murder. both musical experiences equally chilling and moving. if i die under mysterious circumstances this will for sure be played at the funeral.

mirrorball: first off, this is my mom's favorite which is very important. also, it has skewered a very specific but also universal insecurity of mine; existing just to please others and yet miserably failing. it is comforting that ts is not a “natural’ and feels she must always “try try try” because i too lack natural ability, but also rarely “try” even just the one time. the best way i can describe listening to this song is walking through a silent disco where everyone else is listening to some classic lady gaga jam and you are listening to a calming lullaby sung very far away. but don’t let the soothing sounds fool you. it still will have you reflecting on what it means to look and be looked at. a dark rabbit whole, like falling through the looking glass. i’ve never actually read that book though so i could be wrong.

seven: i’m dumb and on my first listen of this song i thought she “hit her peak” at 7 clock as opposed to age seven. but i always saw taylor swift as someone with an early bedtime. also a fun discovery while writing this, “seven” is the 7th song on the track list. clever. although this song is young and innocent and so nostalgic for a time when screaming ferociously was a widely accepted form of expression, it also sounds like a very old secret someone is whispering to me. a love from long ago that lasts beyond the person being in your life, passed down to me and it all just sounds a little gay. not just because of the specific line to hiding in the closet. but that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. when i was seven i was definitely in love with girls and assumed that was just what friendship was, playing pirates and making plans of running away together.

august: the eighth track for the eighth month. her mind. also my birth month so that’s special. controversial opinion: from what i’ve read most people seem to think illicit affair is the third song in the triage of teen love. i will strongly make the case that it's actually this one. first of all, the subject: a short lived summer fling, which is specifically mentioned later in “betty”. the central heartbreak of this song is liking someone who always belonged to someone else. yes, this song is a window into a different summer, far from pandemic central and the escapist imagery is delightful. but a whole song from the pov of the “other woman” to james and betty is just so much more fun. and there are two more specific lyrics that prove my point. “remember when i pulled up and said "get in the car”” you will see later comes back from the other person’s perspective. and most of all: the repeated line, “meet me behind the mall”? only teenagers make plans to meet up behind a mall. i rest my case. so now we have cardigan and august. two pieces of the puzzle.

this is me trying: i’m glad i now have a succinct message to send to anyone when they ask me what the hell i’m doing at any given moment. this song just sounds like regret and waste in the most self-assured and confident way. this is “back to december” with the training wheels off.  i have no apologies for my efforts at wasting all my potential. but in this song, taylor has opened her arms to me in a warm embrace and has forgiven me for all i’ve done wrong and reminds me to not take for granted the “try”. okay mom. i’m crying again, but okay.

illicit affair: this is the kind of thing that makes you feel sixteen, living in a dull suburb, while secretly screwing your 38 year old married neighbor who’s rich but wants to be an artiste. aka like a character in euphoria or something. it’s sexy and dangerous until you think about it and then it's just dingy and creepy. but this song starts and stays beautiful. most importantly, this song is too sad and depressing frankly, to be a part of the trilogy. we could never forgive james for leaving such a mess and making her a fool. you don’t want to be this girl. you want to walk up to her and shake her and yell “you exist and will not be ruined by any dumb man”. and that’s feminism.

invisible string: is it reductive if i say this one’s about joe? all my non-stan friends have asked me which ones are about him. we forgive them and point them in this direction. because it is lovely and beautiful that we are all tied to our soulmate for our whole lives before we ever meet them (because that would in fact mean that there is someone out there for everyone which might be naive or dumb but i am both of those things and whats the point of living if you don’t believe in the power of love). this honestly gives me “begin again” vibes in the best way. it’s red-era level with the wisdom of lover-era tay. sublime.

mad woman: the second mention of the “mad woman” as both taylor herself and the character in the story. as usual, tay stays calling out double standards and the manipulation of women into “going crazy” for expressing reasonable anger. I, personally, wish i could say “fuck you forever” without someone saying i’m “overreacting”. this is my least favorite song on the album and i’d still listen to it three times in a row and need to resist the urge to set a man’s lawn on fire. just girly things.

epiphany: i know she said this one is about her grandfather’s experience in the military but all i imagine is a slow montage of harry style’s character in “dunkirk” on the beach. and it’s beautiful. and much like my sophomore in high school self reading “all quiet on the western front” it evokes a pain from deep inside me that engulfs a loss i could never describe and a sadness too awful to witness. you will listen to this song and feel absolutely powerless to the will of the universe and it’s cruelty. and the faint but steady heart monitor beep in the background… i’ve never seen “grey’s anatomy” but i can imagine why it has so many fans sobbing. and let me end on this: two soldiers in some old war (meaning both men based on dunkirk) watching each other like this and living and dying together…gay.

betty: the first verse was pulled directly out of my subconscious fantasy of being in love in high school and it being so wonderful and painful and dramatic. and taylor riding a skateboard… is a mood. the song has been out for less than a week and it’s already a cold take to talk about how this is her gayest song to date (close runner-ups being reputation’s “dress” and “cardigan”). but of course i will still talk about it. the lyrics embody such authentic awkward gay energy (see the lesbian in booksmart for reference) and having been a 17 year old only three years ago, i can say with reasonably good authority that no 17 year old straight boy could stand in front of a crowd of peers and beg forgiveness from a girl he hurt. it’s just not realistic. these are all awkward, over-dramatic, young girls stumbling through love. and it’s awesome. james is the speaker of this song, and the subject of “august”, the summer fling that was never truly there due to james’ love for betty, the titular role of this song. thus completing the love triangle. and there are so many obvious references in this song to both “august” and “cardigan”. rhyming cardigan with car again makes me want to light myself on fire in the best way. i love it. “i dreamt of you all summer long” is the final nail in the coffin for the girl in “august” who was clearly just a place-holder. totally separate from taylor swift, my favorite word is porch. so the amount of times it appears in her lyrics is wonderful. say it out loud. it just feels nice. anyway, this song makes me want to be young and dumb and in love. the second can really only be tolerated because of the first and third. i hope the story has a happy-ending. if james were a boy i’d wish him the plague.

peace: the coming-of-age movie starring james and betty (and inez) is over. we have come to “the age” i guess. there’s a thought that’s gonna fester. if this song was just the line, “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” over and over for four minutes it would still smash me to pulp and fill my body with helium gas. i can and will cause a car wreck when this comes on the aux. if this song is what being grown up is like (bare in mind grown up to me is like, 30) then i’m ready to be done coming of age. because i already worry if i’ll be at all enough for anyone and way too much for someone at the same time. but like all good poetry, this song isn’t about what it “means”, but how it “feels”. and this is new york city, the summer, pouring rain, a long walk home, desperately fearing and hoping they are there waiting for you.

hoax: a one-sided conversation between me and my stubborn clinical depression. i too, constantly stand alone on the cliff demanding a reason. one has not yet been presented. it operates both within and and against me. i could be bigger and stronger than it. but instead i tend to it like a prickly plant. (“no other sadness in the world will do”). there is nothing both sadder and funnier then the scene in “avatar: the last airbender” when prince zuko stands alone on a cliff screaming at the sky for lightning to strike him. i don’t know why this song reminds me so much of that. what a way to end such an emotional rollercoaster. it is so emotionally draining that it simply forces me to start folklore again from the top and listen to it all over again.  or take a long therapeutic nap.

there are no skips. and it will still surprise you on your 267th listen. proceed with caution.

i knew you, in a past life maybe. i have not met you yet, but folklore has made me believe you exist.

@taylorswift 10/10 good work

@taylornation this had to be shared and i don’t have a twitter so

[rebel-in-white]

The Perfect Ending for Dean and Sam? - Supernatural 15x20

As I read reviews about the Supernatural series, nothing disturbs me more than reading things like the title of this essay, “This was the Perfect Ending for Sam and Dean.” It’s disturbing because as fans of this 15-year show, we are accepting mediocrity. Far from being a perfect ending, this was one of the worst television show endings that I have ever seen because the characters weren’t allowed to change and grow. 

When I watched the Supernatural series finale, I was struck by the realization that this could have easily been the finale of season 1. In season 1, we were dealing with Dean’s feelings of being second best, Sam wanting a “normal” life, Dean choosing the dangerous world of hunting, and the value of saving the innocent despite the dangers. In episode 15x20, the episode implies that we are still dealing with the same themes from episode 1, even though SO many events have passed, and Sam and Dean dealt with their own issues in varying ways. Dean’s death during a mundane hunt harks back to season 1’s warnings and omens about the dangerous life of a hunter. Meanwhile in season 15, the Winchesters are fighting God and survived that battle. Sam’s “happy” ending harks back to his desire to be with Jessica and find a happy, “apple pie” (normal) life. Meanwhile in season 15, Sam has lost everything… again. He lost his adopted son, his good friend, his mother for the second time, his surrogate father, his girlfriend (what happened to Eileen?), and his brother. Also, let’s not forget that Adam died and was a Winchester. Season 15 does not agree with, and contradicts, its final episode. 

Everything that has happened after season 1 and right before the series finale doesn’t matter. That is the message the series finale communicated with fans. Some fans might be alright with this message because it’s such a long series, too much has happened, but there are many fans who have avidly watched these characters grow and change. They themselves have grown and changed with these characters! Watching the finale felt like a slap in the face, a surreal dream, because the writers and the show-runner shut the door on any type of meaningful change that has occurred throughout the series. Throughout the years, Sam and Dean were able to create meaningful connections outside of their partnership, noticeably with Jack and Cas. Both were only mentioned. That merits repeating again. Castiel, who had become a fan favorite in the series, only gets a few mentions. Dean, the one with whom he shares a profound bond, shrugs off his death and continues enjoying his pie. Like the last 12 years of developing that friendship, emphasizing their bond, and teasing fans with their deep connection meant nothing. Because ultimately, the show sent a clear message to its viewers: it doesn’t matter what these characters have gone through, it doesn’t matter the people who have come and enriched their lives, but what matters is where they started. The journey, and the accompanying life experiences, don’t matter.

I read a really hurtful review about the series finale that implied that Sam could only be happy on Earth because his brother had died. He was no longer his brother’s keeper, so now he could have everything he wanted- a family and normalcy. That was the Sam of season 1 - before his brother died for him, before he died for his brother, before his demon blood addiction, before he saved the world numerous times, before he adopted a half angel kid into his family, before meeting his Mom again. All of those experiences profoundly change a person. His idea of normal and happiness changed, became vastly different. The show hinted at this when we saw the names carved on the table in episode 15x19. Sam stopped running away from hunting, his duties, struggled with his destiny, and fought for his freedom and seemed content with what he had. The show even implied a budding romance with a fellow hunter, Eileen. Sam from season 1 would have turned away from all this because it interfered with his desire to be normal. However, this was shoved at Sam in the most confusing, contrived, and sickening manner. After Dean dies during the series finale, Sam mopes for a bit, then he goes on a hunt, and reverts back to Sam of season 1 with ease. He gets everything he’d wanted- an unnamed, unseen wife and a child who he names Dean. If Sam from episode 15x19, 15x18, from any episode after season 1, saw this ending for himself, he would have run away screaming. He wouldn’t be able to accept it. Why? Because that’s not what he wanted for himself anymore. He wanted to be with his loved ones, which included Dean plus his extended family. 

If Sam’s ending was problematic, Dean’s is inconceivable. This is a character who has struggled with so many issues and low self-esteem and has gone through so many ups and downs that to see him die, impaled on a nail by clowns, devastated and confused many fans. I actually laughed out loud when he died because it was so ridiculous. It hurt to see a beloved character treated like trash, then proceed to accept his death with arms wide open. Where was Dean’s desire to live? This is the man who survived hell, saved the world several times, sacrificed himself for Sam, and had to fight daily to survive. And I don’t mean in a I’m-a-hunter-and-life-is-dangerous way, but in a real, this-world-is-fucked-up-and-I-can’t-do-it anymore way. 

That was what always attracted me to Dean. His fight to survive in a world that didn’t make sense to him, and his ability to cling to life despite feeling too broken and inadequate. For many of the fans, they resonated with that and admired him for his grit and his humanity. In the series finale, Dean gives up. He accepts death, accepts this strange looking heaven, even though he was weirded out by heaven when he first encountered it. He rides around in his car- alone and waiting for Sam. That’s what Dean boils down to- alone and living for Sam. The show sends a message that Dean doesn’t deserve anything else. Despite everything he’s done throughout the 15 years of this series, Dean can’t escape his destiny to die on a mundane hunt.  The same death that had been foreshadowed in season 1. With only his brother with him to see him go. Dean fought so hard to be free from Chuck’s stories and from his own demons that to see him reduced to drinking beer and riding around in the Impala felt like he’s regressed 15 years. And some fans think he deserved this? What has Dean done to you?

Dean had potential to show growth and to show true change and progress through a possible relationship with Castiel, but the show metaphorically gave its queer fans, their allies, and narrowed minded viewers a big middle finger. Yes, even people who hated the idea of Destiel, you should be angry. Instead of the show stretching your thinking and challenging you to accept something different and progressive, the show decided to pat you on the head and feed you some metaphorical shit. Please don’t eat it. Throughout the show, there had been signs that Dean and Castiel shared a profound bond that extended into a romantic subtext. It started with the angel’s entrance and charisma, and Dean’s acceptance of him into his life (very rare for Dean to form lasting relationships), and it ended with a confirmed love confession. Now, imagine that you’ve been hoping for years that all these hints, looks, and jokes would go somewhere. That maybe someone will validate your views and make you feel like you’ve brought progressive change to television. Well, that’s what it felt like to be a Destiel fan after episode 15x18. Destiel became half canon! Castiel declared his romantic feelings to Dean, which Misha Collins confirmed to be of a homosexual nature, but he knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. He died to save a shell-shocked Dean Winchester. Not only did the show kill Castiel, but they sent him to hell (granted, he didn’t stay long), and they sent Dean Winchester, the man who stayed “straight,” to heaven. 

This was problematic in many ways. One, the message is homophobic, heinous, but subtle. If you’re gay or queer, you are thrown away, never to be seen again because your feelings will upset the masses. It’s what happened to Castiel, a confirmed queer character. When episode 15x20 finished and Dean hadn’t even mentioned Castiel out of his own freewill, I was upset. Here comes the second problem. This show had used queer-baiting for the past 12 years or so to keep its numbers up and to keep itself on the air. It used queer-baiting to a most hurtful and insidious way to attract viewers to the series finale. Then, they shut it down after teasing something that several, enthusiastic fans had wanted for years. Why open this pandora box if you aren’t going to do anything with it? What is the point? Leading people to create false assumptions, playing with people’s emotions in a negative way, reinforcing negative heteronomative stereotypes- this is what the show has accomplished. This is its legacy.

I wrote this essay to free myself from this show. After this, I am not a Supernatural fan anymore. This show has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I want nothing to do with it or anyone associated with it. I urge you to free yourselves as well and also to not accept this mediocrity that Supernatural gave us. Stop other shows and networks from manipulating and leading on its fans. Stop them from ignoring years of growth in order to feed you the same story and keep you mediocre and small. I know the pandemic of 2020 made things difficult, but that’s no excuse to create the subpar work the Supernatural writers/show-runner/staff did. With just a little bit of creativity and intelligence, they could have produced something great, no matter the obstacles. I used to believe in that.

Supernatural, thank you for the years of enjoyment, but I never want to see you again.

[ashandboneca]

The racism is coming from inside the house.

With all that's happening in the world right now, I wanted to take a moment to talk about racism and discrimination in the general pagan community.

I know a lot of people see pagans and witches as a loving, hippie-dippy, group who couldn't possibly contribute to such a hateful thing. It almost makes me want to laugh. Not only does the pagan community contain racism, parts of it actively enable and perpetuate it.

I have written extensively previously about my own experiences in my own community 5 years ago, when a local white supremacist was harassing me online, attempting to defame me, and attacking and slandering members of the community who are people of colour (POC). I cannot speak for any of those POC, I do not know their experience. I can only speak for myself and what I saw happen. I saw members of my own community, members and organizations that I have worked with and that I have trusted, back up a known white supremacist with 'they're just proud of their heritage' and a refusal to do anything to protect other members and potential members of the community, even with proof. I still see people that I know and used to respect attend their events or promote their events. The community where I used to live is so steeped in racism, and it is enabled by the people who have the power to prevent it.

I can't even imagine what it would be like to walk in the shoes of a POC here, seeing a whole mess of white folks who claim to be welcoming and accepting, sheltering a known neo-nazi. It must be so uncomfortable. It must be so infuriating.

Unfortunately, you see a lot of prevalence of neo-nazi beliefs and behaviours in the Heathen and Asatru community. Our gods have been co-opted by the jack-booted masses, looking to perpetuate their ideals of a pure race (which, newsflash, doesn't actually exist), white is right, and hatred of the other, searching for ways to twist the words of the gods to justify their tirade of fear and hatred. You have groups like the Wotan network, Asatru Folk Assembly (which is officially classified by the US government as a hate group), and the Thulean Perspective. You have the Heathen Harvest, the Soldiers of Odin, the Wolves of Vinland, Operation Werewolf. People take the beliefs of the Thule Society and the pro-Germanic beliefs of the Nazi party during WWII, and mix it with good old fashioned fear. Presto, welcome to the new nationalist kindred: whites only, please.

You run into a lot of issues with any POC who dares to work with gods from any of the northern European pantheons: it's as though they feel that anyone who isn't lily fucking white has no business working with their gods. Oh, did you buy them? Do you have a fucking deed of sale? I mean, try not to mention that northern Europe has never been 100% white, what with all the Romans and Moors who travelled there long before and long after they were Christianized. You think they didn't intermarry? Don't dare mention that most of the population of northern Europe is Christian, and they are praying to a brown, middle eastern Jew. Don't mention that their gods were queer and sometimes brown. Like, get the fuck over yourselves.

Don't even get me started on the racist practice of cultural appropriation, or the claim from some groups that are clearly not closed cultures (cough NAZI HEATHENS cough) that POC are stealing their beliefs. The POC have no right to the Germanic/Norse gods (what are you, their fucking keeper?), that they should (and this is a quote I have see many times) just stick with their own African gods, or go back to Africa where they belong.

Heathenry is not closed culture; it is in no way under threat of extinction, and it's practitioners were not subject to genocide or mistreatment. So yeah. How about no. How about this: we all should just listen to our POC and listen to what they say about their cultures and their practices. We white folks have no business telling them what we can steal from them; we've done quite enough of that, thanks.

As much as we claim that 'hate is not a pagan value', to some it is. A belief they hold deep in their very souls. It starts, insidious at first, as a belief in pro-nationalistic, pro-tradition rhetoric. It speaks of bringing together the 'disenfranchised', whose culture is being threatened by the cries of diversity. It slowly turns into anti-immigration, anti-islam, anti-feminism. Then it turns into marches and gatherings to 'preserve their culture'. Then it turns to violence. Then murder.

Example? Varg Vikernes. Super racist metal musician, confirmed northern practitioner, convicted arsonist who burned down churches, and convicted murderer. Now that he's out of jail, he preaches intolerance and violence through the Thulean Perspective. The man is so full of hatred, and because he was a popular musician, he commands a large audience.

Tackling the utter mess of the racist pagan community is not an easy task. I have no easy answers. All I know is that in times like this, there are 2 quotes I live by:

“Where you recognize evil, speak out against it, and give no truces to your enemies”

-Havamal, stanza 127

and the always quoted:

"When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle."

- Edmund Burke (often misquoted as 'all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.')

The most important thing to do in times like this is not not be silent. We need to stand up against racism whenever and wherever we see it. We need to own our own racist shit, and strive to be better. We need to listen to the folks who are suffering the most, and do what we can to make sure their voices are heard - and we need to let our voices rise up to combat the hatred.

We can't literal nazi fucks continue to co-opt what we have tried to build. Been there. Done that. Pretty sure we fought wars about it. It means making hard choices. It means removing people from your life who have decided, for whatever reason, that there are numerous people who do not deserve basic human rights. It will likely mean ending decades-long friendships, or family. It will mean standing up for what is right, even if it is what is hard to do.

We have to look at what these communities have become, and be absolutely disgusted at the state of them. We need to be the helpers. We need to be the ones to push to create change.

If we want this community to survive, we need to fight for it. If we can't save it, we need to burn it down to kill the disease, and start again.

[foresthearth]

Review: “Witch”, by Lisa Lister

Coming in three years after publication, ‘cause that’s how I roll.

Okay, I have to mention, I HATE these matte covers that pick up fingerprints like you wouldn’t believe. Ugh. Why do this to me and my greasy little hands?!

Moving on.

TL;DR: If you are a cisgender, AFAB woman with a fully functioning reproductive system, who finds this fact to be intrinsic to your parsing of femininity and spirituality, this book will probs be great for you.

Everyone else? This book is bad. Yes, there is some nuance to this and the WHY of its badness (and all reviews are subject to reviewer bias), but overall, in summation? It’s bad.

To start off, the kinda dubious but overall not so bad: it doesn’t really tell you anything. It bills itself as sort of a cultural studies text crossed with an intro to witchcraft; however, for me, it fails at both. As a textbook, it does not cite sources, though there is a “Bookshelf” section at the end – the text itself, however, really just serves as a place for Lister to talk about her perceptions of the female and feminine power throughout history. Which in and of itself is FINE, but don’t say you’re going to explain “the history behind witchcraft” (literally in the back cover blurb) and not actually back that history up with sources. You can talk all you want about persecution of women, but when putting it in a specific context such as the age of witch trials, or referring to societies that used to venerate women before the patriarchy took hold, it really helps to have some primary or secondary source to back up what you’re saying. You may think that we’re all drawing from a common knowledge, but not everyone has access to that knowledge pool, nor has the same background and learning. Just back up what you’re saying, or even just reference further reading that people can do if they want to learn more about what you’re pulling from. (I compare this to one of my books on Queer Magic – it also doesn’t have a bibliography, but that is due to the fact that it IS primary source material, essays from queer folks on *their magic*. Witch is not trying to be a primary source, therefore Lister should really acknowledge where she’s found her information.)

Now, the intro to witchcraft bit. Personally, none of the spells resonated with me – except for the Ostara honeycakes recipe because they are delicious – but that has more to do with how I practise magic. Lister’s practise and mine are very different, and her formalised spells/rituals do absolutely nothing for me. BUT if you are new to witchcraft, and looking for step-by-step guidance for certain issues, or rituals for a sabbat, these could be helpful, or at least give a jumping off point. However, it’s useful to keep in mind that this is not following any specific path within witchcraft – so if you are starting out and want to learn something formalised, this isn’t the book for it. Which is why I say it fails as being an intro to witchcraft: it’s showing you a few spells with no background into the wherefore, no reasoning as to what gives these things the power for this spell. And I feel like that’s because Lister isn’t trying for a tradition-based book, in that she herself works intuitively. So the spellcraft doesn’t really work for me, and I feel like it doesn’t give a firm enough foundation to be considered an introductory book. That being said, it does give just enough information to pique curiosity, so that you may have an idea of where to start further research.

 There is one aspect of Witch that I do find pretty good, which is the constant reiteration of finding your own power and believing yourself and trusting your intuition. This is what I think is the strong point of the book overall – Lister says it’s to help women “reclaim the word ‘witch’”, but witchcraft aside, I definitely feel it’s got some good points about not letting yourself be silenced, and moving into trusting yourself and your ways of knowing.

 BUT.

There is a MAJOR issue that I have with this book, and that is the transphobia and gender essentialism. And this is what, for me, makes it a bad book.

Let me quote a bit for you, from right near the beginning:

“Yet, as I was pulling my pages and pages of handwritten notes… I felt an overwhelming need to apologize for writing a book specifically about women as witches… I’ll piss off the transgender community for not addressing them… That thought? That need to apologize? That’s the very reason why I HAVE to write this book. What I share is NOT intended to exclude others. But trying to be all-inclusive would totally miss the point.” (Witch, pp. xvii-xviii)

Sigh. If you’re going into something with the feeling that you’re being exclusive and need to apologize, maybe that’s a sign to take a step back and look at who you’re excluding and why. If, to you, “the essence of a witch is someone who trusts their inner authority and uses their own personal magic to navigate and negotiate the environment they currently find themselves in” (ibid. p. xix), then why the need to specifically mention that witches power comes from their womb? Why keep bringing it back to “pussy power” and tying everything back to menstrual cycles? Why? And maybe – MAYBE – if there had only been this passing reference in the intro, it could be overlooked. But the references to pussy power, to wombs, tying power to biology, is constant throughout the book:

“Blessed be my womb for being the holy grail, cauldron and keeper of the mysteries.” (p. xxii)

“One sister is chanting the various names given to the Mother God: ‘Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Innana’ over and over, from deep down in her womb. (p. xxiii)

“There were no fanfares, marching bands or big applause: just pussy-deep truth.” (p. 3)

“You can only find your power when you plug yourself back into the motherboard. When your feet touch Mumma Earth, and your womb and heart connect with her.” (p. 16)

“Generations of women have been disconnected from the power that lies between their thighs – their lady landscape, their womb and their menstrual cycle. They’ve lost connection with their ability to create life (and everything else) in their wombs, which means their minds can be easily manipulated and indoctrinated by Patriarchy.” (p. 75)

I could go on, but believe me when I say this is pervasive throughout the entire book.

You can’t have it both ways. You cannot give an inclusive definition of what you think a witch is, and then go on to say ‘oh, but you’re only a witch if you have this biological aspect’ and venerate that biological aspect in an exclusionary way. This book is either only for AFAB, cis women with fully working parts, or it’s for everyone.

I am a queer, cisgender woman with pretty severe endocrine issues which have basically fucked my reproductive system. The amount of time that Lister spends in this book, talking about how our feminine power comes from this same reproductive system is absolutely distasteful, as well as being reductive and exclusionary. I’ve spent enough of my life feeling useless and not enough, due to my physical issues, that I really don’t need a book about reclaiming my feminine power to ALSO say that my feminine power is rooted in a fundamentally broken part of my body. Yes, the menstrual cycle/organs are powerful and have strong magic, but they are NOT what makes someone a woman. To say that it is not only excludes those who either don’t have or have ill-functioning systems, as well as reducing women to nothing more than their reproductive systems… And isn’t that what Lister’s trying to get away from, what with reclaiming feminine power and blasting the patriarchy?

And if I feel this way? I cannot even imagine what my trans family would feel like, expecting a book on witchcraft and the feminine, only to be told mid-text, that they’re not valid or wanted.

I’m not saying that you can’t write a book about the power inherent in the reproductive systems. But just be sure to make it very clear that that’s what you’re doing. Don’t play coy and hide your TERF views in the text, put them on the cover so we don’t pay money for exclusionary bullshit.

And for further reading:

https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803095846595

https://medium.com/@pennyred/terf-wars-why-transphobia-has-no-place-in-feminism-60d3156ad06e

https://www.patheos.com/blogs/pantheon/2011/03/transgender-issues-in-pagan-religions/

https://godsandradicals.org/2016/02/10/its-all-about-sex-feminism-paganism-and-trans-exclusion/

https://www.hercampus.com/school/york-u/women-wicca-transphobia-and-other-issues

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt III

Night fled day. Before the others rose I read the sky. Spying an uncharacteristically vernal mustard sliver, I imagined another world past the clouds, opposing ours directly, and their rising summer sun.

God, shrouded in cancerous sadness,  could but weep. Too weak to conjure flame.

The storm, furious mute, spoke through man's works, droplets exploded musically; dull on timbers, shrill on sheet, like crackling fire on thatch.

Foot travel was impossible, even treacherous. Lar wouldn't have it. 'I know someone. Unpaid tab, lovely spacious wagon. Hold tight.'

Unpaid tab, yes. Lovely wagon, no. Against the rising slope, his contraption strained. Its light frame shed water. The man knew his charge and kept us steady. Hold tight proved apt phrasing.

When the carriage wasn't veering towards fatal tip, I dismantled the day's duties into gelded chunks. Easy. Ten manageable tasks. Ten had a ring to it. A certain motivating roundness. Ten tasks set to Heracles condemned to misery by jealous Hera. Ten commandments from on high.

The day passed quickly. I worked mostly absent of mind, scanning peeling labels for keywords. I napped again at some indeterminate point, rising to the first red flares of evening.

Near freedom, the final banality seemed yet more soul destroying. Fortunately it proved easy, simple scribbles to confirm a job done. Mac donned, packed bag overshoulder, I signed the final form with a flourish.

On the doorstep, gazing out at the torrid tempest I was to endure, and again the following day, for a brief moment Cairn Cottage seemed inviting.

I cast a final backward glance. Inside Acrisian frames, there lay my ancestors in oils, frozen in perpetual offence.

As discussed, Charon on his chucking carriage arrived and ferried me back to Sperrin.

Outside the tavern, wet as it was possible to be, I waited. I don't know what I hoped to see. Some queer curiosity took me. I wished to see how they spoke without me. Maybe it was awkwardness that prevented an unannounced arrival. I pressed my ear to the door. Lar told a joke and howled with laughter, joyous overmuch at his own humour. When I entered I hovered in the open doorframe, dripping like a swamp witch. A wave of relief swept over Lar, which he wrestled into a piteous pout.

Two drinks waited, patient as unconfessed sinners. When I peeled off the mac, he flashed a one-sided smile. I muttered a reluctant thanks.

We feasted after. A meal to see us off. For strength, we ate lashings of gravy thickened by meat juices, steaming Yorkshire puddings, slabs of succulent pork, bog mushy peas, and custard to follow.

Afterwards, we reclined swollen. When the small crowd shifted, Fergus rose to slip the bolt unbidden.

My mind was in custardy. I was eaten witless. I wondered had Lar planned the old stuff and sneak.

'Are we, as lantern thieves, away with the light?' Lar undid his top trouser button and grew an inch before my eyes.

'We are.'

'Handled a gun before?' That old chestnut. Long I had anticipated such a discussion.

'I have and don't intend to again. Hate hate hate them. Listen, speaking of, we need to talk about this whole thing.' Lar's brow furrowed. 'I believe with alternate ends, disagreements arise.' I thought carefully and he waited patiently. 'This isn't a fox hunt.'

'I never said it was. You seem a bit peeved actually. If I can be bold, why hate the gun and not its wielder? Is a rifle always an instrument of terror no matter the context? On the shoulder of an adventurer piercing the interior, emboldened by its weight, is it the selfsame tool that greedily dispenses random death in the hands of a deranged person? Say a rifle, bought with pacivity in mind, never packed to shoot, merely to brandish and quell cooling tempers, where do you class that?'

Nobody is perfect and there was the proof. When it came to criticising people en masse, Lar was your man. Less evident was his enthusiasm when the crosshair turned to his own private club. Gunfans, gunmen, - for men they were mostly - whatever their preferred nomenclature, are tiresome, everybody agrees.

Realizing I had zoned out, I nodded extra vigorously at his next points, hoping the nod was taken as a sign of attentiveness and not agreement.

Foam pooled at the corners of his mouth. 'Even if we should not spend a single cartridge, it's a fool that lowers caution in victory! Wear these chains. Be it upon your head.'

I tried to interject, 'Lar, really that's a bit dram-'

He continued unabated, 'Should the beast prove strengthful and beguiling as I suspect, and we its seekers should become gunless hunted, it's not a good look for that book of yours.'

Though admiring of his passion on the subject, I had none to share. 'A gun is a gun. Any given situation is more likely to end in a leaden exchange with guns present, vise a vie, sans guns we are overall safer, despite feeling less protected individually.'

'Right. And when those eviller guns unleash in benign judgement, who better to return fire than kind souls equally armed?' He wagged a finger at my smirk. His voice lowered an octave. He swerved and spat, throwing his arms aloft with such momentum that his knuckles wrapped the timbers.

He paced, every inch of his pulpit touched. Standing again before me, he exhaled the temporary madness.

Fergus rose disturbed, a tremble evident. He vocalised disquiet at our clamour. Lar made his apologies; mine mumbled, Fergus' thoughtful.

He continued 'A thousand fools wait raging. I'll not be one with my arms held aloft in deference to a keeper. Either I should die on spent casings or triumph. Your charisma won't stop bullets or beasts. I'll have Fergus pack a rifle for you. Don't wanna use it, don't.' Empassioned, Lar slammed his hand down on the bar.

'Take your rod, Pilate. We'll see who time vindicates. Have you not heard that he who lives by the sword shall too die by the sword?'

'Have heard you, Judge not?' Pulling aside a rug, he revealed a hatch beneath his feet. Fergus tossed the heavy door to one side with apparent ease and fetched a swaddled armoury, which he laid for my reluctant perusal. I chose a revolver. Six shots, lightweight, swift off the hip. I remember a sense of perceived ceremony, as if my hand should be drawn towards the right snug.

Once I fixed the holster, Lar longed to bequeath a second gift. Claims that my recent experiences left me badly turned on gifts fell on deaf ears. A gift on the house, as he put it. He returned, book in hand, and slapped it face-up on the bar. 'Old Mortimer's Mort Timer' was printed in bold crimson, letters tall as wide.

'If this is a pitiful attempt to convince me guns laws increase gun deaths, it's ill considered.'

'Ignore the cover. Cowboy there is a vessel for universal truths. Makes for a good bedtime story. Try it. If you're still offended tomorrow, we'll debate then.'

Everything seemed less intense once the guns were sealed away. We sank a fifth, then a sixth shortly after.

'Have you a path in mind?' Lar slurred.

'Arrogant I might be, fool not; you know the land better. Speak freely.'

'I have some notions.'

'Notions - mere legless actions! As joint expeditionaries, in name rather than eventual royalty, I offer no pronouncement. What am I paying you for? Hardly your winning anecdotes. We're following your route to success or failure.'

I departed, lifting the flap for myself this time. 'I know the way. See you. First light. Rest well.'

Once abed I turned the book in my hands. Its garish colour lent a faint luminosity which it seemed shameful my hands should dull. I discovered the binding was frayed. The object showed more blemish than the ravages of time; later pages wore blotches. A hypothesis soon formed, which further probing confirmed. This book was licked by the ocean. A sea tome it was.

On the inside cover, faded and difficult, illegible without foreknowledge of the owner, I saw Fergus' name printed, a phyrgian squiggle.

I read it;

Ever hear the story of old Mortimer Considine? He was bold as block letterin', round as a cowerin' brushhog, feared and lovered in equal measure. Them scales was centred for him. Instinctively he knew right from wrong. Round Texas way at one point he was the toughest sonofabitch the world had ever see'd. Papers sid it, wimmin giggled it, smoke signalled it, so it musta been true.

Guns smoking, he toured the land righting injustices, collecting bounties and if rumour holds truth, fathering bastards, later becoming county scourges in their own right. Nothing on their old man though, dull facsimiles, whudever that means. Chaotic he was. Kindly too. Smart as a Greek. Strong as a mountain man, and I hear them Greeks had big boys too.

Now, he was fixing to be the best at shooting after his days out ranging. Tired of hauling baddies in for cash. He wanted hisself a wife and cosy home, young'uns to raise right. Make right some on his past transgressions. Hell, if he had cash enough, as he was heard to say only in deepest cups on full moon nights, when the moon controlled the tides of his tears 'well as them on the beach, he'd seek out his illegitimate sprogs and give 'em something for their hard lot.

Best gotta beat the best. Roving West then East, he rode into town with his holster turned front, making his business clear so to speak. Everyone he'd fought so far he felled easy, like dead trees keeling at a shove. There was big boys, tough men who a punch would never fell. Only the impersonal, devious strength of a bullet would do it, seemed a shame really fer all their liftin' and sweatin'. What finnesse they had in riding and wrasslin' they lost at steels, for Mortimer was quick as cancer and spun like a storm at the whistle, shooting 'em full of steaming holes.

Had himself a reputation now. When he came upon town and rode the highstreet on his black destrier like a demon called from hell, only the toughest mothers dared from the shadow of the awnings. Now this one place he went, or was bound for, he got to hearing was a hovel of wretched rapists and varmint brigands, living in squalor, wallowing in vile hedonism. Imperial in their particular perversions, namely unholy orgies in that there big church built by them mexicans was once this far into the states, them was once from further yonder than Mexico and came upward, with them layered temples like square sandcastles.

Pilgrims passing elsewise in other directions he met, but none going toward. Then he saw it, the black spires silhouetted on the matte of night, which held purple and pink and orange, flashes of winking silver, and all the gold jewels of the firmament. He had no want of killing and no provin' to do with regular folk, so he kept his gun shy in behind, his trenchcoat held firm at his chest with a single button, which he took from a sheriff's waistcoat.

You there, he'd said, so high on his horse he appeared a drawn shadow, as if some perfidious god had set to drawing charcoal on the mirror of the world. Up stole the pilgrim and leapt almost.

Mort?

Nay, giggled Mortimer, almost though. What's yonder?

Pilgrim, without lookin, answered quick, Ain't nothing there and no god. Kindly sort you seem. Can tell from ya eyes. Big ol blue ones like the desert moon at night. Not cold though, blue as magick fire.

Mortimer again requested the name of that spiked tower.

Babel, he says and left.

Babel, Mortimer says and left wondering had he heard that name before. He'd met a guy named Barber once. Polack chap taking his wagon clean through to York. Was that the same word? Maybe. Nobody could kill him, not with a gun. Too fast, too cunnin' at gunnin'. Few years left at the top, at least. If they did it, it'd be ignoble, uncunning and devious. Mind, he was cunnin' at augurin' too. Augured him a plan.

After tracing his steps at a canter, Mortimer spied the same stooped soul, satchel slung on his back, hooded. Pilgrim, he said, help me and I'll pay ye. When the work is done, I'll ferry you safe to your destination.

Deal, said the pilgrim so quick as to be near suspicious.

All the way he walked fast. Faster'n an old man, Mortimer reckined. The man had loped, limped and lounged before, as a man of advanced age, now he sprang more sprightly.

Mortimer had a suspicion maybe. Gut feeling. A gnawing doubt. Not enough too stop him. Reckined he was too cliver 'n devious to get got. That morning when they got close to town and descried distantly, from a rise which he took to be an ancient thing built by them northern southern mexicans, a multitude assembled in the centre of town.

Mortimer turned to his pardner to git planning and found hisself did in, plugged and smoking, a fresh red rosette pinned on his breast. The pilgrim relieved Mortimer of his possessions and stole away back into a fresh day, right quicker than ever he'd gone yet.

That was the story of that there Mortimer.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

"Wow, this place has really gone to the dogs."

Anna and Doc were walking up the steps toward the front doors of Dell Valley High. She really felt silly in the Sears getup Doc had hastily helped her procure: a faded denim miniskirt with fishnet stockings, and the gaudiest top she'd ever seen in real life. A parroting of actual 80s style as interpreted by greedy outlet stores.

For some reason, "Time Warp" started playing in the back of her head.

"Remember, we're not here to sightsee," Doc hissed, trying to stuff more of his hair up into the porkpie hat he thought was 'inconspicuous'. "We have barely over one week in which to figure this out. One week in which to cement the romantic bond between your parents before sending you back home. The lightning will strike the clocktower at precisely 10:04 PM next Saturday, and that is our only window of opportunity to harness its power to-"

"Yeah, yeah," she hissed as they wandered through the halls. It looked so grimy and dingy. After a moment, it dawned on her that it was because of the renovations in 2009; before that, evidently, it had been even worse. Of course it looked bad. "If we don't catch the lightning bolt, I'm stuck here forever, or until you can grab us some plutonium. I got it."

"Good. And I would rather not try for plan B, as I'm fairly certain it would bankrupt me and land me in a federal prison. Now… let me know the moment you see either your mother or your father."

Just then, the bell rang, and Anna backed up to the wall and tried to look busy. It was hard without a mobile phone to check incessantly; she didn't know what to do with her hands. She glanced up out of the corner of her eye until she spotted a familiar face, then groaned.

"There's Dad, alright."

Said "dad" was currently stumbling down the hallway, an armful of books clutched against his chest. Following closely, several boys, all of whom seemed to be… kicking him? As soon as he turned around to have a go at them, it became obvious why: he had a huge 'kick me' sign on his back. Anna couldn't entirely suppress a groan. That actually happened to real people? He had yet to notice her – he was trying to stop the boys, and failing spectacularly. One well-placed kick to his behind had him sprawling across the floor. He stood up as quick as he could, trying to yell at the boys to pick up his books, when a very familiar face stepped into view.

"Mr Weselton?" Anna whispered, more to herself than anyone. "Wow, has he always had that godawful toupee?"

The whole scene was equal parts pathetic and terrifying. No wonder it had taken a car accident for her parents to get together; pity, it seemed, was a fairly strong motivator. Finally – as soon as Mr Weselton had stalked off to harass some other unsuspecting student – she left Doc with a shrug and went over to help him up.

"Kristoff, heeeeey!" she said in a cheery voice, helping to gather his books and papers. She tried not to snort when she saw the words 'Trapper Keeper' on his binder, but then put that out of her mind for the moment.

"O-oh, it's you. What do you want?"

Again, she marveled that he could wind up with any woman, much less Elsa Baines. "What do I- hey, listen, I just wanna follow up on how you're doing. You know, after I saved you from the car?"

No harm in a little guilt. And it did the trick; he dipped his head in shame. "S-sorry about that. What I was doing… I m-mean, you probably want an explan-"

"Birdwatching, right? You had those binoculars." It was the excuse her parents always gave for his behaviour, which she now knew was a total lie. But she did her best to mask her feelings of disgust. "Accidents happen all the time, my friend."

"Right." He smiled very slightly. This was probably the first time any girl had done anything besides curl her lip at him and call him a nerd. "Anyway, I'm doing okay. How about you? I saw you got hit by that car, I w-wanted to help, but… I don't know, that man was so angry…"

"Yeah, no problem, er… dude." He gave a hesitant smile. Maybe this slang thing wasn't as hard as she thought. "Actually, about that. So, the guy who hit me, turns out his daughter goes here. Elsa Baines? And we got chatting, as y'know, us crazy kids do, and she mentioned like… seeing you around the 'hood. I'm just on my way to see her, you should come introduce yourself."

Whoa, reign it in, Anna. But fortunately he hadn't seemed to notice her terrible attempt at adapting and blending in. Instead, the color drained from his face. "You're not gonna tell her about the- the birdwatching, are you? Honest, I just like looking at her – not like that! I didn't- I fell because I didn't expect… to see all that. You know. I swear I've never looked in a window and seen…"

When he literally got too flustered to speak any further, Anna put her hand on his shoulder. "I won't tell if you don't," she said, fixing him with a steady gaze. "But maybe… don't do it again?"

He nodded sharply. "Done. Never happen again."

Well, that wasn't so hard. Anna wasn't sure if it was because Kristoff was trying to be noble or whether he was so wussy that he'd agree to anything; either way, it had the desired effect. Turning on her heel, she began walking down the hallway.

Every parent-teacher interview had begun with a 'sightseeing tour' to her parent's lockers. At the time, Anna had hated it, though now she was grateful because she at least remembered the vague area where her mother's was located. Kristoff was quiet for the most part, but when they neared Elsa and her small group of friends, he suddenly became quite nervous. She felt him tug on her elbow, bringing them both to a stop halfway down the hallway. She hadn't noticed them, and Anna doubted she would if they remained there.

"Is she really… interested in me?" he asked, wide eyes looking at Anna. Not a bad looking guy despite his clothes and haircut. If he had a makeover and a stronger personality, she had no misconceptions that he might be able to get a girl.

She had just started to form an answer, "Of course, you're a catch!" on her lips, when she was interrupted before she could begin. As it turned out, she had been wrong about how inconspicuous they were.

"Tori?!" Elsa cried, eyes lighting up and a wide smile on her face. She took a step forward, seemed to realise how obvious it was, and then took a step backwards to compensate. "Hey, how are you this morning? How's your head?"

A reddish hue had already begun to seep into her skin. It was adorable, and it was plain to see that Elsa was the worst closeted queer person Anna had ever laid eyes on. Her heart fell a little as she imagined what small, insignificant thing she would do that might eventually clue her parents in and begin the homophobic rants that all but beat the rainbows out of her. Stupid 80s and their backwards way of thinking.

"Doing great, great. No pain. Anyway… um, this is Kristoff. The boy I saved?"

"Hey," he said, though that seemed to be all he could get out.

What if she split the difference? Tried to tell a little of the truth without revealing the worst parts. "He was birdwatching, but… I got it out of him that the reason he was by your house is because he keeps trying to work up the courage to… well, y'know."

But Elsa didn't know. Or it seemed like she didn't care, because instead of glancing at him, she walked forward to reach up and gently touch Anna's bruise. "You're sure you're okay, Tori? It's looking a little black and blue now…"

Suppressing a shiver, Anna stepped backward with a shaky laugh. "Y-yeah, fine! So, um… about Kristoff-"

"I was just telling Ariel and Jasmine about you," Elsa went on as if there had been no interruption, barely gesturing to each girl as she introduced them. The ginger with the huge blue eyes kept glancing between her friend and the newcomer, equal parts mistrustful and curious. "How brave you were, and how cool you looked. What was that shirt you were wearing? It had, like, guns and roses on it. Pretty rad."

"O-oh, it's a band." At the last second, she caught herself – how old was GNR? "Up- up and coming. Seriously, they're going to be the next big thing."

This was not going at all how she wanted. The way Elsa was smiling made it apparent that it was going the way she wanted it to, though. Crud. Anna glanced over Elsa's shoulder, looking at her friends. The ginger – Ariel, she thought – was brushing a thin comb through her hair. The other was buffing her fingernails and glancing over at Elsa impatiently.

Come to think of it, Elsa hadn't really mentioned her friends last night, which got Anna curious. Leaning forward, voice lowering to a whisper, she asked, "Do your friends… know?"

Elsa didn't seem to understand at first; when it finally clicked, she looked like she was about to have a heart attack. She finally looked at Kristoff of her own accord, desperate for a distraction; he was looking at his shoes and trying to make himself seem smaller than he was – a feat in itself.

She didn't even need to answer, because that was telling enough. It was probably stupid to remind Elsa of her burgeoning sexuality, because she looked like she wanted to step even closer.

"Of course they know about you." Oh God. "I was telling them how my dad hit you with his car –

how brave it was for you to save your friend Christopher from the car."

"Kristoff," Kristoff interjected, head lifting for a second. Elsa completely ignored him.

"Right, Kristoff," Anna said. Back on task. "He really wanted to get to know you, but wasn't sure how. Because obviously, you look so hella rad." Seeing their blank faces, she went on, "Rad. Just rad. Sorry."

At that point, Elsa finally looked at him for longer than a half-second, but unfortunately he had chosen that moment to glance over his shoulder at a noise that had come from down that hallway. Like a scared little mouse. 'Great going, Dad,' she thought with a wince.

"Well, it's good to meet him. And to see you, Victoria. I really… I want us to hang out more."

"Great! Then we'll hang out more! Right, Ariel, Jasmine? Kris?"

The girls nodded immediately, but she had to nudge her father before he started and yelped, "SURE! S-sure, yeah, it sounds great. I'd love to, um, out-hang."

Just at that moment, the bell rang. Elsa's friends gave her a nudge, but moved past her. Kristoff was already at the other end of the hallway before it had even finished ringing. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Turning away, she was only a little surprised to see Elsa still standing there. She hadn't noticed at first, but Elsa probably looked even better than yesterday. So much denim – but she wore it well.

"Uh, aren't you gonna be late for class?"

Instead of answering, Elsa bit her lip. Her eyes were wide, and her fingers twitched like she wanted something but was too scared to ask. It only took Anna a moment to figure out what: when she opened her arms a little, uncertain, it took Elsa less than that to throw herself into the hug.

As terrible an idea as it seemed, Anna couldn't bring herself to cut it short. Not when she'd been craving such a thing from her mother for so many years: genuine love and affection. Denying her would only mean denying herself.

"I'm so happy you're here," Elsa breathed. "I was afraid that after last night, you'd… y'know?"

"I would what?" Maybe Anna didn't want to know; the idea hurt. That she would abandon Elsa after finding out that she was queer. But maybe Elsa had been through that once before.

"Never mind," Elsa whispered, pulling back and squeezing her hands. "Um, I'd better get to class; I'd cut, but Weselton always jumps out from behind a rock to catch us. Like our own personal Snidley Whiplash."

Though she had no idea who that was, Anna nodded and patted her upper arm. "Sure, yeah. See you after class?"

"Yeah, of course." Elsa hesitated, then leapt forward to ghost her lips over Anna's cheek. "And thanks, for um… for keeping my little secret."

"Our little secret," Anna corrected automatically, before realising that she maybe shouldn't do that. But it was too late; Elsa was already skipping off to class, jean jacket and braid bouncing in her wake. Anna just stared after her, all the way until she disappeared around the corner.

She also shrieked when Doc came up behind her. She'd completely forgotten that he even existed. He ignored her shriek, naturally.

"Astounding," he was saying. "Your mother didn't even spare him a glance. And that look in her eyes… well, the very fact that no one has figured out her sensibilities is an utter mystery."

"Oh god Doc, what are we gonna do?"

But for that question, neither had a suitable answer. They began making their slow way out of the school, brainstorming aloud to each other.

"What do kids even do in the Eighties? That uh… hoop with the stick? Jumping jacks?"

"Please, Future Girl," Doc said. "Those were out of style before even I was a boy. No, we need something…intimate. A social event with no expectations. One where they can get to know each other and have a good time at a somewhat leisurely pace. Currently your mother has no emotional opinion about your father. That needs to change."

"Well, I did say we should all hang out. Maybe go to the mall? And that way, I can start kind of, um, pushing them together." Never mind that she felt guilty about doing that now. Clearly, Elsa was more interested in women, and even if she were going to go for a guy, Kristoff was a terrible candidate.

"That will work for a start." Sighing, he patted her shoulder. "This situation is an unprecedented conundrum, and I don't envy you. But this is of paramount importance. I want you to stay here and keep an eye on those two, while I go back to the lab and work on the DeLorean's starter. I can't take it to an actual DMC dealership with all those components on it, so I'll be doing the work myself, and I'm a scientist, not a mechanic."

Nodding, she turned back toward the school. "Good luck, Doc. I'm… well, I'll do what I can with what I got, I guess. Just hope this doesn't explode in my face."

                                                 ~ o ~

For the rest of the day, Anna skulked around Dell Valley High, trying to figure out how to do anything to influence the outcome of her parents' relationship. Nothing doing. While in classes, she couldn't even get in there without arousing the suspicion of the teachers, so she was restricted to time between classes, and lunch.

During lunch was when she ran into the biggest, meatiest roadblock of all: Hans.

She was sitting across from Kristoff, picking off his fries and trying to convince him to make the first move in inviting the girls to 'chill out'.

"I dunno. I want to but- well what if they say no?" he asked. "I couldn't take that kind of rejection…"

Anna could understand that – it was why, despite the fact that she knew Jennifer was into her, she hadn't been able to work up the courage to actually ask her out. Still, him mousing around wasn't going to get them anywhere, and she only had a week to keep herself from vanishing.

"Trust me," Anna began. "Once she gets to know you, it'll be true love! But you gotta stop wimping out."

"I know, I know. I just can't help it. Anyway, I'm pretty sure she's interested in someone else."

Anna's blood ran cold. How could he know? Did someone tell him? Clearing her throat, she asked in a very small, obviously fearful voice, "…Who?"

"Hah, who else?" He lifted a hand, still staring at his notebook, and pointed at her – no, wait. Somewhere behind her. "Hans."

When Anna glanced over her shoulder, she saw Hans was indeed chatting up Elsa. Not that Elsa was the least bit interested. She actually looked incredibly annoyed, if her scowl and hunched shoulders meant anything. For now, it was just talking, but she already knew that Hans wasn't above getting a little physical.

"Read some social cues, buddy," she told Kristoff flatly. "She'd rather kick him under a bus than go out with him."

"That's not really my, um, field of expertise," he went on as he bent low over his notebook, scratching out a line and beginning to write something above it.

"God, what are you doing that's so much more important than your dream girl?" Snatching the notebook, she squinted at it…

And her jaw dropped in shock. All she had to do was read the line 'She put down the laser rifle and reached for his fur-clad hand' before she got the picture – which was just as well, because then the notebook was being snatched right back out of her hand.

"HEY! That's n-not something I let just anybody read, you know!"

"Kristoff… wow, you write fanfiction?"

But the term seemed to catch him off guard – which was at least enough to cut through his flash of anger. Pushing his greasy locks out of his eyes, he asked, "Fan… what? Do you mean, um, fantasy fiction? I'm more of a science fiction guy… b-but anyway, sorry, I'm just not ready to let anybody read this stuff."

That was interesting. Mainly because her father had literally never said a single word about writing. All her entire life, he only complained about work, doted on his alcoholic wife, and chatted about TV or movies. Other subjects were much more incidental, and never once included that he had a love of the written word; sure, he read, but he never talked about what he read… and Anna hadn't been interested, anyway.

Maybe the rift between her and her parents wasn't entirely their fault.

"Oh. Well, um… I'm sorry. But hey, maybe you could come back to your furry boy and his laser-chick after we take care of Baines over there, right?"

"I don't know why you care so much," he sighed. But then he frowned over her shoulder. "And anyway, it seems to be going fine between them."

Of course, that was the moment that Elsa's voice rang clear through the cafeteria, "Get lost, Hans!"

He didn't. If anything, he got closer. The whole room had become quiet – not silent, but the noise was low enough that now Anna could actually hear what he was saying.

"Aww, c'mon babe. You don't want the school thinking you're a dyke, do you?"

That got her. Anna could see Elsa crumple. Her heart still swelled with pride when Elsa still stood up for herself, despite how much the words had cut her down.

"I said no, Hans. Now get. Lost."

Clearly, he wasn't taking the hint. "Listen you little–"

Anna moved. Hans was even more of a gross pig here than he was in the future and he was not getting away with it; she would have done the same for any woman, even if they weren't as important to her as her mother was. Jumping up, she stalked over to them. Elsa noticed her first, a smile replacing the frown. "Tori!"

"Alright, Fuckboy McDouche," Anna began. Of course that was when Hans noticed her. Standing to his full height, he made for an impressively intimidating feature.

"What did you call me?"

"You heard me!" Then she noticed everyone surrounding them shared his look of confusion. Oh, right; era-appropriate lingo. "Um jerk-face. Yeah! She said to leave her alone, you jerk!"

Oh crud. He took a step forward, hand curling into a fist in front of her. Then, without any obvious reason why he should, he stopped.

"Excuse me?" Mr Weselton had his arms over his chest, bad toupee still wobbling even though he had come to a stop. "Am I to understand that you have reached a new low, even for you, Tannen? Winding up to punch a girl half your size?"

Hans switched gears immediately, smiling that slippery, conniving smile of his as he patted Anna on the shoulder. "Sorry, Teach. I was merely going to remind this girl that she shouldn't call people names. Part of my civic duty."

"If you've ever actually stayed awake through a civics class, Tannen, I'll eat my boots. Now, release the girl before you wind up in detention."

She almost hoped he would do it. Hoped he would punch her, and then end up in detention – or even better, give her an excuse to punch him back. All those years, listening to him make lewd comments about her mother, watching him push her father around…

"Right, right." He leaned in just a little more, saying through gritted teeth, "Sorry." Then he was turning and striding away, his trio of idiot friends cackling and pounding him on the back.

"Tori…" Even as the crowd was breaking up, as Weselton was stalking after them, all Anna could see was Elsa, rising from the bench and away from her two friends, who were staring at Anna as if she had literally stepped out of a Jet Li movie. Or was it Bruce Lee in the 80s?

"H-hey, don't mention it," Anna muttered as Elsa grasped both of her hands. Then a spark of an idea came to her; embellishing the truth slightly. "Actually, it was Kristoff who noticed first. I'd never have seen it happening if he wasn't so worried about you."

However, on the subject of her father, all Elsa had to say was, "Who?"

THAT didn't bode well.

"Oh, y'know, Kristoff…" Her voice trailed off when she turned back and Kristoff…wasn't there anymore. He had beaten a hasty retreat when he could see a fight was about to break out. And Elsa was distracted, anyway.

"That was really brave of you, Tori. No one's ever stood up to Hans before!"

"Well maybe they should. He's only gonna get worse, right?"

Neither had a chance to say anything more because Elsa's friends swiftly came up to them. One of them offered Anna a smile and gushed, "Dude, that was pretty wicked!" It was small consolation when Anna's plans to get her parents making babies kept failing, but hey – at least she wasn't unpopular in the 80s. That had to stand for something. What was the term? She wasn't a square.

"Thanks, babes," she said, cocking her head and pointing a fingergun at them like an overconfident dudebro. They laughed, which seemed to be a good sign. "We're all hanging out tonight, right? At… Twin Pines Mall?"

"For sure!" Elsa spoke for them. As if they would argue with her, given the interest of the other two girls and their clearly 'beta' mentality. Her mom was the leader of the pack, alright.

"Sweet!" Another weird silence. "Sweet… of you to agree! With me! Right?"

Luckily, one of Elsa's friends jumped in. "We could see that new Death Wish, or the new Freddy sequel?"

"To Live and Die in L.A.!" the other friend whined. They all rolled their eyes; apparently, this had been discussed before and nobody else was interested.

"Yeah, sure! Why not?" Anna knew absolutely nothing about any of those. Why were all the 80s movies so violent-sounding? Shaking that off, she pulled Elsa aside to talk to her alone.

"Hey… listen. I know this might be a little weird…"

"What?"

"Kristoff." When Elsa only frowned, she went on, "He's kinda nervous around you, because he likes you so much. So just… I know it might be a lot to ask-"

"Don't bite his head off?" she guessed with a slight smirk. When Anna shrugged, Elsa nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll try to be nice to the nerd burger, but I can't pretend that you're not a lot more… tubular."

"O-oh." Oh wow. Even Punz had never been so forward – and that wasn't even really all that forward anyway!

But the worst part was, Anna couldn't blame Elsa. Not about the liking her part, shocking as it was, but about the not-liking-Kristoff part. As sad as it was, she was starting to see why her family hadn't felt like one for a long time. Why maybe her mother didn't seem to like her children, let alone herself. The jigsaw pieces were falling into place: Grandma Baines, the accident, the lack of options…

If Anna had grown up in 1980s instead of the 2000s, she'd probably try and 'pray the gay away', too. Settle for the first guy who came along who wasn't Hans. Elsa's only choice had been to conceal her feelings and play the role of the straight woman she most certainly was not. Forever.

"Elsa," Anna said, voice barely a whisper. She noticed Elsa's friends lean in a little closer, so taking a risk, she grabbed Elsa's hand, leading her even further away. This wasn't going to be easy… "Look, you can't say things like that, okay?"

Elsa's whole face fell at that simple sentence. "I don't- what?"

Sighing, Anna gritted her teeth and looked away. This situation was so impossible! Here was Anna, a pretty girl straight out of her queer mother's fantasy. How could she encourage Elsa to be herself while keeping herself out of reach?

Fortunately for her, she was saved from trying to speak when the bell rang – she'd never been so grateful for a lunch break to be over.

"I um, I have phys ed," Elsa offered, when Anna didn't say anything. Her head was bowed, and she tried to push past Anna- but her conscience wouldn't let her allow that.

"Elsa, wait." She did stop, and Anna let out a sigh. "I do care about you. This is just really… sudden. Like I said, I have a girl back home, and… and I don't know. But you're definitely a hella- I mean, a wicked… rad… cool girl. Okay?"

Finally, Elsa looked up. She offered a tight smile, but at least it was a smile. "Don't worry. I'll totally be fine. I'll uh, I'll see you at the mall?" she asked softly.

There was such hope in her voice. And- well, it couldn't make it worse, could it?

"Sure," Anna said with a beaming grin she didn't fully feel. "I'll be there."

Smile relaxing slightly, her future mother touched her wrist in an affectionate gesture, and headed off to the gym. Leaving her future daughter wanting to pull her own hair out.

                                                To Be Continued…

[diceysitchcast-blog]

Dicey Situations Episode 1: TRANSCRIPT

In this world building/character creation/game building episode, Jess takes us to the city of Pinnacle, a techno-magical dystopia mirrored by the VR world of The Dreaming. She also introduces us to a hybrid home-brew game with elements of of DnD 2.5 and 5e, Normality, and various other systems. There is no actual play in this episode, but we hope you’ll enjoy hearing us talk organize a game and create characters!

Drew exercises his right to bear arms, Ellie achieves robotic sapience, Avery decides to become an intolerant tank, and Ronnie invents a new pronoun.

[NOTE: It's our goal for Dicey Sitch to be as accessible as possible, which is why we want to provide transcripts for every episode we release. We are disappointed to say that transcripts will likely update at a slower pace than audio episodes, which is our own fault. However, we're still dedicated to make sure that transcriptions are released as close to audio episodes as possible. For now, please enjoy Episode 1 of Dicey Situations!]

Dicey Situations!

Season 1: Pinnacle

Episode 1: Have You Seen My Robot?

Jess: The city is made of spun green glass. It fades into the distance and then focuses in. The city’s name is Pinnacle. It’s been around for a few hundred years, and it blossomed from the end of the world.

In this city, there are, well, they’re not really factions, but three different groups of believers. Those that believe magic came back into the world to rise humanity above, those who believe magic is a penance from the Gods, and those that believe magic mostly doesn’t exist, and when it does, it’s more technology than anything.

[Music starts]

In this city, there is the Dreaming: a massive, cyberkinetic, shared VR reality that people use to escape from their own. And in the Dreaming, you do escape. There are sometimes mistakes, sometimes firewalls get breached and people’s properties and lives get destroyed, but no one dies in the Dreaming. Your body can be killed outside, but if you die in the Dreaming, you wake up in real life.

[Music continues, then fades.]

Jess: So! Welcome to Dicey Situations, the.... podcast! It’s... this is the people! Go! Drew!

[laughter]

Drew: I’m Drew. I use he/him/his pronouns. I am an on-again off-again Internet user. I shamelessly use Facebook way too much, and I get paid to do that sometimes.

Ev: My name’s Avery, I use they/them pronouns, I’m agender, and I am on the Internet on Twitter @crapiocaa with two a’s.

Ellie: My name is Ellie, I use she/her pronouns. I’m not giving out my personal tumblr, but my fun tumblr is badlifeadvice.tumblr.com! It’s awesome, it’s full of things you  shouldn’t do, like stalling the intro for a podcast!

[laughter]

Ronnie: I’m Ronnie, I use they/them pronouns! I draw queer comics on the Internet! You can find them at gqutiecomics.com. It’s spelled GQ............ U...TIE comics dot com!

Drew: [sarcastic] “I know what I’m doing!”

Ronnie: I totally know what I’m doing!

Jess: My favorite thing about that was the pause as you had to, like, remember [laughs]

Ev: As Ronnie remembered how to spell their webcomic!

[laughter]

Jess: And I’m Jess! I’m your... I don’t have a fancy name for this session, like, I can be a Dungeon Master or a Keeper, but this is house rules, so I haven’t got a name, so I’m Jess. I use she/her pronouns, and I use this as a coping mechanism, and my comic’s at closertohomecomic.com... if you want it!

Ronnie: It’s great!

Ellie: Why don’t you call yourself the Master Controller?

Drew: You should be a Dungeon Guru!

Ellie: Ooh!

Jess: Maybe I’ll just introduce myself as something different every time.

[laughter]

Drew: I like it!

Ellie: Do it!

Drew: Do it!

Jess: I think Dungeon Guru will work for this week, cause this gonna be all about me, like guiding you down this like, fucking, homunculus, this is... this is a homunculus game you guys.

Ev: I don’t know if that’s the right way to use that word by the way!

[laughter]

Jess: Uh... a chimera?

Ronnie: That makes more sense!

Ellie: Yeah, I was gonna say chimera, but, you know.

Jess: You guys are insurance agents! Clerics and wizards and fighters and rogues hired by an insurance agency to go out and investigate insurance claims. Be they someone suing a corporation, a house being burned down, you guys know what to do.

And... that’s pretty much it so far. That’s my pitch to you guys about your characters. So, it’s future cyberpunk with elves and magic and clerics and stuff and...

Drew: I always wanted to be an insuranceman, so...

Jess: That’s good.

Ev: That’s exactly what I said when I heard about this campaign! [laughs]

Ronnie: Hey Jess!

Jess: Yeah?

Ronnie: In the Dreaming, do people have... avatars?

Jess: Shit of course they...! [laughs] Actually, last night Ev and I, uh, created, oh shit, come on computer, don’t do this to me right now... I know you’re hot... You’re gonna be fine...

Drew: Sexy!

Jess: Yeah I’m sweet talking my computer into working. Ev and I have made a ton of...

Ev: Puns!

Jess: Puns! Pun objects, because we went through, like, the DnD objects list and... like, just kind of updated it to be futuristic. Clerics in this world, and druids, and technomancers, and paladins believe in different kinds of gods, and part of that is they have to maintain a Holy Site, which is like a fansite for their religion!

Drew: Oh!

Ronnie: I love it.

Jess: And then, as one of your perks is that you can get a Church Verified Avatar, which makes you less likely to be hacked!

Ronnie: Eyyyy!

Ev: Yeah, everyone should definitely have the game items list open by the way.

Ellie: Yeah, I just opened it.

Jess: Ev and Ellie kind of have ideas for their characters so if, you guys actually wanna, like, summarize your characters real quick, so Ronnie and Drew know some places that you can go with this...

Ev: Or have you guys looked into it, too?

Jess: Have you guys got any dreams?

Drew: Um, I don’t. Ronnie might. I’ve like, worked the past two evenings, so I’m ready to go now but I haven’t done any homework. I’m a bad student!

[laughter]

Jess: Keeping you after class, young man!

Ronnie: For me, I’m imagining, like, this sort of shitty teenager character, who is like, a teen radical who puts up tech graffiti places...

Jess: [laughs] I love it.

Ronnie: And wants to encourage the rising of the proletariat and stuff.

[laughter]

Drew: You know what would be fun? A like, a middle-aged, kind of balding, really angry person, that actually turns out to just be all those things.

[laughter]

Ev: What kind of class would that be? Would that be like a rogue or something?

[Inaudible because we’re talking over each other like dorks.]

Ronnie: I was thinking Bard, but I don’t think Bard is available, is it?

Jess: It is actually!

Ev: Oh no it is!

Jess: It is totally available!

Ev: That’s an awesome way to be a Bard, actually!

Jess: Yeah, we were trying to figure out how to do Bards, because one of the custom classes for this campaign is LARPer which is similar to Bard but different. LARPers can create different alternate identities and stuff.

Ev: This is my favorite part of the campaign right now.

Drew: Where are the funky different classes?

Jess: I shared the items list, and that has all of the different classes that we have, but mostly the classes are just DnD classes, but with like a little bit of a cyberpunky upgrade. So like, your wizard’s going to be a technomancer, your thief can be a hacker and your rouge can also be a hacker...

Ev: And then of course there’s, you know, LARPers are like, masters of disguise crossed with rogues or thieves basically, right?

Jess: Yeah, they’re masters of disguise, they’re also the ones who can kind of impersonate people, they can doxx people, and like, take on their personality and act like them, and they’re less likely to get caught doing it.

So, so far we have two religious dudes, [laughs] and I feel like, honestly Drew, if you wanted to play a cranky old dude, you can definitely play a cranky old wizard dude...

Drew: Yes.

Jess: ... who’s like, just been showing up for his paycheck at this insurance agency.

[laughter]

Ev: One day away from retirement!

Drew: Oh, that’s when the shit goes down, though!

[laughter]

Ev: Yes!

Drew: “It’s my last day before I retire, guys!”

[laughter]

Drew: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me!”

Jess: Man I sure hope nothing happens to that guy!

Ev: “I sure hope I don’t end up in a Sin City comic!”

Drew: “Ha ha!”

[more laughter]

Jess: So, Ronnie, can I make some suggestions for your Anarchist, like, shitty teen?

Ronnie: Yes.

Jess: Ok, I like the idea of them being a thief or a rogue or a hacker or a LARPer or a combination of that. And I also like either they’re interning at this insurance agency to make money for like, paying rent or something...

Ev: Interns don’t make money!

Jess: Well, my other thought is maybe it’s a community giveback program that the agency is doing to show great they are, like, “look at this teenager we’re rehabilitating really badly”...

Ronnie: [laughs]

Jess: But also it could be like, some sort of future community service, like I’m kind of imagining a Shitty Corporate Future, where like, if you get arrested you have to work it off at a corporate 9 to 5 job.

Drew: I mean, that’s not really that far from what it is now, so that’s sounds like a pretty good movement.

Jess: Are any of these appealing to you, or do you have your own ideas?

Ronnie: I enjoy the intern. [NOTE: Ronnie said this but then went with a sort of combination of both, which may be confusing, woops!]

[laughter]

Jess: Yeah, the miserable intern! [laughs] Alright, I like this. Okay! So let’s start some characters, then. You got your character sheets. Your traits are gonna be just how you would roll your DnD traits, so your Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma. You roll four d6 for each, and then you take away the smallest one, and then you can plug them in wherever they’re needed, okay?

Ellie: Jess I already did mine, like I did them before... but I can roll again if you want.

Jess: You don’t have to because it’s probably good that other people can talk while people are figuring out the math bits, right?

Ellie: I suppose, yeah. I mean, I haven’t put them anywhere, I just have them.

Jess: Oh, well, you can plug them in if you want, ‘cause, Ellie your character is basically a robot druid, which is the coolest thing!

Ellie: Yeah!

Ronnie: Oh my god, that sounds awesome!

Ellie: Oh man! I wanna, I wanna tell you my robot’s name.

Ev: Yeah, tell us all about your robot.

Ellie: Alright, my robot’s name is H u M 4 N, and it’s pronounced–

Ev: Oh Christ!

Ellie: –it’s pronounced Human!

[laughter]

Ev: Your character, your character and mine are going to get in so many fights!

Ellie: My, mine doesn’t fight! It’s a lovely robot!

Ev: Just wait.

Jess: What’s your lovely robot’s pronouns?

Ellie: I’m trying to figure that out, y’know?

Jess: Okay, yeah.

Ellie: Um, maybe put N/A because I’m not sure.

Jess: Yeah, I’ll put pronouns N/A. And HuM4N, the robot! [laughs]

Ellie: I might give a 15 Charisma for my druid robot!

Jess: So he’s like a religious, they’re like a religious leader a little bit?

Ellie: No, I mean...

Ev: Or just like, really charming!

Ellie: Yeah, like a charming robot!

Jess: All robots are charming robots.

Ellie: Yeah, but this one’s especially charming because HuM4N’s surrounded by... other... little robots?

Jess: Okay. Ev, give me, hit me, let me know. [laughs]

Ev: Okay. [laughs] Uh, my character is named Adrianna Arkadie Usko, and she goes by Adie for short, or Ah-die, I’m not sure. But anyway, she, I, fuck, I gotta stop calling her “she”, they’re a they!

Jess: Okay!

Ev: They’re a human cleric, and they belong to a church that believes that machines should be tools of flesh-and-blood people, instead of sentient beings.

Jess: I...

Ev: And they’re gonna be in a party with a robot named HuM4N!

[laughter]

Drew: I’m sure a great friendship will totally grow, and not hatred!

Ev: Oh yeah totally! They’re also, like, you know, their church is considered somewhat moderate in that they’re not anti-technology in general, but they definitely have the basis of their church’s beliefs is that, uh, machines are fallible, and that if you want something with a real, actual sense of responsibility and life, that it should be a flesh-and-blood being. That robots can’t understand the true meaning of life, basically.

Drew: I want the two of your characters to become Platonic Life Partners by the end of this campaign.

Jess: I ship it!

[laughter]

Ev: That’s a, that’s a possibility!

Jess: It’s the future!

Ev: I also do, you know, in true Avery fashion have, uh, a two page backstory and personality document for this character and... yeah.

Ronnie: Also, also Jess...

Jess: Yeah?

Ronnie: Can my character be a ratfolk? Can they?

Jess: Yeah they can definitely be a... I feel like gene modding is kind of a thing that kind of was, like, used early on.... Okay, wait, do you have ideas about the rat creatures? I should not just stumble over your ideas before you get to put them out there. What do you, where do the ratfolk come from, Ronnie?

Ronnie: Um, they either came from underground, or they came from the desert, whichever.

Ev: And they’re part of like, the magic coming back into the world, basically, like they’re magical creatures?

Drew: I want them to be like, nuclear devastation, and they’re like pet rats that have evolved through toxic sludge.

[laughter]

Jess: See, can I put forward a third proposal? Of they are, like the results of “Hmm, well we figured out how to cure cancer in rats. We haven’t cured it in humans yet. What if we can we make kind of humany-rat things, and then try and cure cancer that way?”

Ronnie: [laughs] Excellent!

Jess: Like, you got some choices out there!

Ev: It could be, it could be both, you know! They could be like, lab rats that became human when the magic came back and they just were like “What the fuck?!”

[laughter]

Ev: “When did this happen? Okay, I guess we’re people now! Sure!”

Drew: I like it!

Jess: They’re also underground, and like I imagine... Although we’ve kind of built up this robot-human conflict, and elves and dwarves... I feel like they’re not super happy, like that’s probably why your guy’s so proletariat risey-upey.

Ronnie: Uh-huh. They dream of a utopia in which the sun’s warm, and there are fields of grain, and everything is happy farmland, I dunno!

Drew: And there are no cats!

[laughter]

Jess: Alright, do you have any names or anything? Or...

Ronnie: Ooh, how about Sybil?

Jess: Ooh, I like it!

Ellie: Aw!

Drew: I’m only gonna think of the author now that you say that.

Ev: How do you spell... What way is Sibyl spelled?

Ronnie: S-I-B-Y-L. No! It should be a Z! It should be Z... Zibyl!

[laughter]

Jess: Yes! I love the future. And Drew, do you have any ideas about your guy? Is it just like a human guy, or is it like a...

Drew: I’m like “Oh, I wanna be something fantastic” and then I’m like “No, I kinda just want to be an old, crotchety human with, like, age spots on his face and I want his name to be, like, Earl.”

[laughter]

Ev: Good.

Ellie: Earl the Human.

Jess: Oh my god.

Ev: What class is Earl? [laughs]

Drew: I haven’t thought that far ahead, but Jess did say Wizard, and I thought that was kinda good.

Jess: Um, wizards are the ones who get guns in this universe, by the way. Cause, we figured that magic missile is basically, like–

Ev: It’s a gun.

Jess: –a projectile. It’s a gun! It’s like a laser rifle but in a fantasy setting. So, Wizards get guns.

Drew: [drawling old man voice] “It’s my right to bear arms, that’s why I got bear arms attached to my body when I was seventeen!”

Jess: ...Wait, please tell me this is true.

[laughter]

Drew: Maybe! We’ll find out.

Jess: Old wizard with bear arms. I like that.

Drew: And he’s got a tattoo of a human head on his shoulder.

Jess: [laughs] On his bear arm he has a tattoo of a human head drawing?

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: I love... okay. Yeah.

Ev: These are the best one-line character descriptions that I’ve ever written in my entire life.

Ellie: Woo!

Ronnie: Also, also, my character’s, like, underground username was going to be The Oracle, but somebody had already taken that, so it’s like, TheOraclexx27.

[laughter]

Ev: So good.

Jess: Is it also, does it also have x’s in front of it, so it’s like xx_The_Oracle_xx27?

Ronnie: Yes!

Jess: Oh my god, this is such a good party. I’m just imagining this old shrively guy with massive bear arms that like come out of his shoulders and drag along the ground, but...

Ev: What kind of bear arms? Are they like Sun Bear arms, or Grizzly Bear or Panda Bear...

Drew: Brown. Brown Bear. He couldn’t afford to get the Polar Bear ones that he wanted when he was younger, so they’re just Brown Bear’s.

Jess: Does he dye them white, though?

Drew: Yeah, he cleans them.

Ev: I gotta bleach my bear arms today!

Drew: They’re kind of blondish, but don’t... don’t talk about it.

[laughter]

Jess: I’m just imagining frosted tip bear arms.

Ronnie: Oh my god!

Ev: He’s a 90’s kid!

Drew: What’s the retirement age?

Jess: Um...

Ev: Old.

Jess: Yeah I think it’s dystopian, like, future-hell, so... Basically, like, the concept is Paprika meets Brazil, meets Ghost in the Shell, with a little bit of Wizards, the 80’s cartoon about nuclear magic.

Drew: I just wanna know how old my guy is. I’m okay with him being super old. I’m fine with that. I just wanna know.

Jess: It’s all about how old you want him to be.

Drew: I feel like... I dunno, 63?

Jess: 63 is a good age. He’s... he’s a pretty old guy.

Ev: 63’s not like, unreasonably old. It’s not like he’s, you know, 95 or whatever.

Drew: Nah, nah, he’s not 95! But he’d be pretty... he’d be a different class of wizard if he was 95 though, let’s be real.

Jess: Yeah, he’d have maybe gone up the ladder a little bit. ...Oh shit, Drew, you get a hat!

Drew: It gets to hide his head so he doesn’t get a sunburn on his balding scalp!

Jess: Well, we decided that, like, it’s like the class ring of wizards. So, wizards who go to school get a class hat, and you get to choose a spell that goes with that hat.

Drew: He didn’t go to school, he’s old school!

Jess: He went to the school of hard knocks?

Drew: He was in the Trades. He learned from the people… I dunno. He failed High School, I dunno.

[laughter]

Jess: Maybe his apprenticeship ended with him getting a hat from his gruff boss man? It’s his hat?

Drew: Sure.

Ev: Okay, so I have to go and eat dinner. I will be back in fifteen, twenty minutes.

Jess: Ev, you have your Spirit and Objectives done, so I can probably just do that for everyone else while you’re gone, is that cool?

Ev: Yeah, I’m gonna leave my recording running, and then I’ll just let you guys know when I get back, but I’ll try and be quick.

Jess: Cool! Have fun!

Ev: Alright. Laaater!

Jess: Lates!

Ronnie: Bye!

Drew: What do the hats look like?

Jess: Whatever you want. It can be whatever hat you want. It’s just a magic hat. It can be a magic fedora, it can be a magic, like, helmet, one of those mining helmets, it can be a magic…

Drew: What about… it’s a fez. It’s a fez hat.

Jess: It’s a magic fez?

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: Okay. Why don’t you figure out a spell that goes on your magic fez? So, for Spirit, you guys, Spirit is pull three random books, then go to a random page and pull a sentence that you think describes your character.

Ellie: That involves moving!

Ronnie: I happen to have three books on my desk!

Drew: They have to be random books! Those aren’t random!

Jess: As long as they’re on your map it’s fine.

Ellie: There’s books around Finn’s [Jess and Ellie’s little brother] bed. I’m just gonna pull those books.

Drew: So you said to grab three random books?

Jess: Yeah. If you have three near you that’s fine.

Drew: There’s a bookshelf…

Ellie: So wait, it’s a random line as well?

Jess: Well, you can choose a line on that page if you want. I don’t mind!

Ellie: Alright, uh, Jess, say a number.

Jess: 27

Drew: [counting to himself]

Ellie: Page 27… [flipping pages]

Drew: [laughs] Alright… oh man my three books…

Jess: Okay!

Drew: Where the Boys Are: Urban Gay Erotica…

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets…

Jess: [laughs more]

Drew: … Jaws.

Jess: These are all… definitely titles!

Ronnie: My books are Scattered Minds: The Origins and Healing of Attention Deficit Disorder… Queer and Trans Artists of Color… and Fruits Basket! [laughs]

Jess: Nice!

Drew: And we just have to pick a random sentence? From each of them?

Jess: Or you can just pick a sentence. It doesn’t have to be random. I pulled this from Normality, which is a really fun game.

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: You pick from your favourite book a random page, and then pick a sentence from that page.

Drew: Oh man, I picked a page and there’s a lot of…

Ellie: Jess, say another number.

Jess: Sixty… nine.

Drew: [reading] “Gripping his jaw, I kiss him, I kiss him for…”

Ellie: 69?

Jess: Yeah.

Drew: “...our noses rub, our tongues exploring, our teeth crushing together.”

Ronnie: [laughs]

Jess: So like, your guy is gay, right? That’s what that means?

Drew: I feel like... Well, he can, or like bi.

Jess: That’s true.

Drew: I mean, let’s be real, though. He’s got bear arms. He’s clearly a gay Bear.

Jess: Oh my god!

Ronnie: This is really funny, because the book I have actually landed on a quote by Nietzsche.

Jess: [laughs]

Ronnie: And so, the sentence is, “From this point of view even the blunders of life have their own meaning and value– the occasional side and wrong roads, the delays, “modesties,” seriousness wasted on tasks that are remote from the task.”

Jess: Oh that’s kind of horrifying, and also kind of nice, and also kind of in character.

Ronnie: Yes.

Drew: So, the sentence I wanna do is “I lift my hand off his face just long enough to reach for the ball gag on the bedside table.”

Jess: [laughs] Alright!

Drew: There’s… there’s not a lot on that page I can get through. Most of it is about nipple clamps and sex. So… well, I’ll write down what I got from it.

Jess: Okay.

Drew: Where the Boys Are… he’s gay, and he likes ball gags!

Jess: [laughs] His spirit is strong.

Drew: Oh man, but he… so he should get some sort of special rope ability, ‘cause he’s clearly into bondage.

Jess: Rope is very expensive, I’m warning you now! I literally only made it super expensive because Ellie wanted it to be included.

Ellie: What?!

Drew: Is there any way that he could just have like his bondage rope, and then it just could be half as useful as actual rope but no one really knows why he has this kinky rope?

Jess: Except him?

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: I think so. [laughs] I like the idea of, someone’s like “Does anyone have some rope?” and he sheepishly pulls it out, and they’re like “Yeah! Thanks guy– where did you get this?”, and he’s like “...Adventure reasons.”

Drew: He’s like, “I can’t really hold a lot of weight, but I can tie a whole bunch of knots if you want.”

Jess: “I can suspend this bad guy from the ceiling a whole bunch of ways.”

Drew: Yeah. [laughs]

Ronnie: Oh noooo! Mine just got so angsty!

Jess: Oh no!

Ronnie: Fruits Basket pulled up for me, “They didn’t really want me.”

Jess: Awww no!

Drew: Mine’s just like, Dursley yelling at Harry. “I warned you, I will not tolerate mention of your abnormality under this roof!”

Ronnie: Oh no!

Jess: So sad!

Drew: So he comes from a family that, like, doesn’t believe in magic, and he’s magic, and they’re like “Fuck you! Get lost!”

Jess: Aww!

Drew: I dunno! That’s what I get from that.

Jess: Yeah.

Drew: They don’t care he’s gay, they just don’t like that he’s magic.

Jess: I’m just, it’s so sad. Some tragic backstory shit happening all of a sudden.

Ronnie: [in the background] Oh no!!

Drew: Are we using “magic” with a “c” or “magik” with a “k”?

Jess: Um, I think it’s with a… well, you’re the magic guy, you choose.

Ronnie: The quote that I got is “I’m not going to exploit my grandma just because somebody gave me money.”

Drew: That’s nice.

Ronnie: This rat… loves his grandma.

Jess: Aww! His ratma!

Ronnie: I say “his”… I’m going to say “they.”

Jess: Okay.

Drew: I don’t know what to say from this. Um, there’s a lot of, like, weird stuff on this page, but a lot of it has swearing, so he likes to swear.

Jess: Ah. He’s such a gruff, old, like BDSM guy.

Ronnie: [laughs] It’s great!

Jess: I think I’ve met this guy at Pride before.

Drew: Probably.

Ellie: I think I’ve got my quotes maybe. From The Supernaturalists… [correcting self] Supernaturalist, single.

Jess: Aw, I love that book.

Ellie: “Even if sometimes, she couldn’t remember her mother and father anymore,” from that.

Jess: Sad.

Ellie: From Martin the Warrior, “I’ll try to get back to you this time tomorrow night,” and then from Itch, “‘Reading’ said Itch.”

Jess: [laughs]

Ellie: Those are my quotes.

Drew: Did we have to write down the actual quote because I just wrote down what I got from them.

Jess: You can do either, it’s about how you’d interpret it best.

Drew: Okay. My brain keeps being like “But Jess, what’s your character?!” and I’m like “Uhh never mind, shut up.”

Jess: [laughs] Don’t worry! Ev and I have been discussing some of the side characters and stuff. You’ll meet some fun types.

Um, so, I think next we’re gonna go on to adjectives ‘cause you guys are kind of getting what your character is.

Ellie: What about Ev?

Jess: Oh, yeah, Ev! Sorry!

Ev: [sarcastic] Alright, cool. [laughs] That’s how it is!

Jess: Shut up! Shut up and speak!

[laughter]

Ev: Okay, um, sorry, I’m just moving things around a little bit.

Okay, so, I have “A little voice in her head said ‘Are you doing the right thing?” which is that, uh, Adie’s always questioning their faith and their motivations.

Um, “String me up ‘cause I’m in it now,’ he said to no one,” which is that they go whole-heartedly into things, and they commit to things.

And, “If you’ve had a freakish education, at least use it,” which is that they were brought up in a weird, like, super technophobic, like... I called the organization that their parents were in “Radical Organicists,” which is like, in my head it’s like a combination of, like those weird culty communes, and anti-vaxxers, and anti-GMO vegans, and basically everyone who, like wants to go back to the Earth, but in kind of like really harmful, bad ways. [laughs] So…

Ronnie: Did I tell you that my grandma totally lived in a couple communes in the 60s?

[laughter]

Ronnie: She’s a cool grandma.

Ev: This is like, they grew up in a bad commune. It was definitely much more cult than anything else.

Jess: Okay, so adjectives. And your adjectives are describing words. This is something I pulled from MechNoir, because I’ve been listening to a lot of Friends at the Table, and this is something they do. But you get to choose three adjectives to describe your character, and they can give you bonuses on rolls if you can convince me that it’s relevant.

Ev: My, my adjectives for Adie are committed, clever, and blunt.

Jess: Committed, clever, and blunt.

Ev: Yep.

Jess: I like it. Has anyone else got any thoughts on theirs? I guess it’s very soon.

Ronnie: What’s the word for when someone is really good at, sort of, MacGyvering things? I-Innovative? No…

Ev: Resourceful?

Ronnie: ...Resourceful, there we go.

Jess: Yeah, that’s good, yeah.

Drew: I wanna use Persnickety.

[laughter]

Ev: Solid.

Jess: So far very good. Ellie, you got anything?

Drew: Crotchety…

Ronnie: Oh my god.

Ev: That’s the same thing as persnickety!

Drew: No, it’s not! Persnickety is being particular, and crotchety is being “ill-tempered, irritable, or grumpy.”

Jess: [laughs] I love this old man!

Ev: He’s so hard to work with, it sounds like!

Drew: Persnickety is "fussy or putting too much emphasis on trivial or minor details."

Jess: I love, I love, oh my god the worst co-worker of all time.

Ev: Right? This is gonna be so... man, this party is just a nightmare. We've got like a shitty teen, we've got a grouchy old dude, we got a religious zealot, and we got a robot, who's just like "Yep."

Ellie: Oh, Ev! And you're like "And a robot!"

Ev: [laughs] I'm becoming Adie!

Jess: My favourite thing so far is that you guys have all, like, fallen into being like of each other? Already? It's very exciting. Does anyone else have extra adjectives, or do you wanna like, you can also sleep on it and we come back to this next week.

Ronnie: We need to do it NOW!

Jess: Okay!

Ellie: I've got something note worthy.

Jess: Okay.

Ronnie: I thought of "resourceful," oh wait, I already thought of "resourceful," but "rebellious"!

Jess: Okay.

Drew: Um…

Ellie: "Volatile"

Drew: Oh I know what I wanna… Oh, sorry!

Ellie: How's "volatile", Jess?

Jess: Volatile's good!

Ev: It's really good.

Jess: Surprising but good, yeah. I wanna see how that runs out.

Ev: Like, temper-wise or in the fact that your HP is so low and you just explode when someone touches you?

[laughter]

Jess: Oh no!

Ellie: I said the wrong words and wrote the wrong word down, so that means I'm keeping it!

Jess: I like it though!

Ellie: Yeah.

Ev: What word were you thinking?

Ellie: "Versatile!"

Ev: Oh!

[laughter]

Ellie: Um, I'm keeping it either way.

Jess: I like volatile and versatile.

Ellie: I'll put both! So, my character is trustworthy, volatile, and versatile.

Jess: Aw!

Ev: That's a good robot.

Jess: That's a good... yeah!

Drew: I'm, uh, so "charitable" is the other one I wanna put down.

Jess: Ah shit, that's really interesting! Like, as a third, compared to "crotchety" and "persnickety"... and charitable.

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: I like it. How're you doin', Ron?

Ronnie: ...Good. I'm trying to think of a... specific word.

Drew: Oh I know!

Ronnie: Um…

Drew: [typing something for Ronnie]

Ronnie: Uh... no.

Drew: Ronnie's third word is "stinky"!

Ronnie: No it's not!

[laughter]

Ronnie: They can't 'cause [rats] clean themselves so much!

Drew: They do.

Jess: Especially 'cause this rat has high Charisma! This is a fancy rat.

Ev: Yeah!

Ronnie: I-It's more than just cleanliness, like... like... he grooms a lot, they groom a lot.

Drew: Obsesses.

[Ronnie mumbles]

Jess: Uh, "neat," "clean"...

Ev: Hygienic?

Jess: Uh…

Ronnie: Fussy! There we go.

Ev: Fussy!

Jess: Fussy's good! Yeah!

Drew: That's the same thing as "persnickety!" Except my word's better.

Jess: So what were your three words in the end, Ronnie?

Ronnie: Resourceful, rebellious, and fussy.

[Multiple "aww"s]

Jess: I wanna bully that rat!

Ev: Everyone's so cute!

[laughter]

Ev: Ronnie and Ellie, did you guys decide on like, genders or pronouns for your characters?

Ronnie: My character's pronouns are they/them, yeah. Or maybe zey/zem to keep with…

Ev: Zibyl, zey/zem, oh good!

Jess: Okay! I love it. Uh, Ellie, do you know what your robot is yet?

Ellie: Might be she/her?

Jess: Aw! Yeah, I like it.

Ev: Yay, we got a girl robot! [laughs] It's perfect!

Ellie: Ev, have I show you my robot?

Ev: No, show me your robot!

Ellie: My robo…

[paper shuffling]

Jess: She's so cute. I love her.

Drew: She's the cutest!

Ev: Oh my god, that is really charming! [laughs] What kind of hat is that, or is that an antenna?

Ellie: It's a little, it's a bird!

Ev: Oh!

Jess: A ro-bird?

Ev: Too cute!

Ellie: Ro-bird! [laughs]

Ev: It's a little bird on her head!

Ellie: And then, that's the feet! Because, poor Dexterity.

Ev: [laughs] Oh my god! All of our guys are so good!

Jess: This is so good!

Ev: Uh, my character looks like Michelle Forbes in, uh, Battlestar Gallactica. I'll find a link. Hang on.

Jess: Nice.

Drew: I'm so bad with names!

Jess: Are you, are you going back on Earl?

Drew: What? No. No no no, I... Ev just said some person's name, and I was like "I know Battlestar Gallactica, but I have NO idea who that is."

Jess: Oh!

Drew: No, Earl is Earl, like... Earl cannot be any more Earl than Earl already is.

Jess: It's true!

Ev: Let's see…

Ellie: Unless he wakes up in the morning... Because then he gets up EARL-ly.

Ev: Heh.

Jess: [grunt and long sigh]

Ev: I linked to Michelle Forbes in the chat.

Ronnie: Okay.

Ellie: Ohh!

Drew: Yeah, okay.

Jess: Nice.

Ellie: Good

.

Drew: I want them to get in a relationship!

Jess: Well…

Drew: Ship it! Ship it!

Ev: [laughs] They're in a relationship and they have a, have a son. I'm telling you, I go so deep into character building!

Jess: Wait, they have a son?!

Ev: Yeah. You want me to read this, part of this real fast?

Jess: Yes.

Ev: Okay. "Adie grew up within a commune that was also slightly a cult. They retained some of the ideas they were raised with, but actually consider themself very moderate compared to what they grew up with, even if that's sort of reactionary in most society. They became an insurance investigator because they wanted to reduce the dependence of flesh-and-blood people on machines and change the system of the Dreaming from the inside, in a way they're not completely sure how that's going to happen, yet." [laughs] Um, "They love travel and reading, and they're very curious, not very funny, and maybe not quite as clear on what their ideals are as they should be. Adie is estranged from their parents and extended family due to aforementioned cult/commune thing. They have a life partner named Robbie McCabe and a seven year old son named Colin."

Drew: Are they Poly [polyamorous]?

Ev: Hm?

Drew: Are they Poly?

Ev: I want them to be! I'm not sure if I should do that, because then, like, I think most of that's going to stay deep in the background, but I kind of wanted them to actually be married to two people.

Jess: It is Space Future.

Ev: Yeah.

Drew: I just wanna ship them with, um, with Ellie's character.

Ev: With HuM4n?

Jess: It would be so symbolic!

Ev: It would. It would be so solid. Their, their wife wants them to stop being such a zealot.

[laughter]

Jess: That's a fun table talk. "Adie..."

Ellie: I think HuM4n would have a nice tea session with Wife.

Ev: Yeah! I can, I can see Robbie meeting HuM4n and being like "Oh, you guys should date because then Adie would just, fuckin' chill for a minute."

[laughter]

Ev: What a bunch of trash babies.

Jess: Um, okay. So, we've got our adjectives... we're gonna do... Luck next. So I want you all to roll 3 d6 [dice]. And don't cheat, goddamn it!

Drew: Roll 3 d6?

Jess: Yes.

Ev: Whoa! I did Ellie rolls on that one.

Ellie: Wow!

Jess: What did you get?

Ev: Five, four, five.

Jess: Okay!

Ellie: I didn't, I did the opposite of Ellie rolls!

Jess: What did you get?

Drew: Oh, Ronnie got shit! Ronnie got anus hairs!

Ronnie: Oh nooo!

[laughter]

Jess: What did you…

Drew: I got 12. But Ronnie got 3!

Ellie: Well, my robot's…

Jess: Oh no!

Ronnie: I got 4!

Ev: Shit!

Jess: What did you get, El?

Ellie: One, two…

Jess: Oh my god!

Ellie: ...and one.

Drew: Hey, you got the same thing as Ronnie!

[hysterical laughter]

Ev: Wow, you are SO unlucky.

Drew: What is this roll for?

Ev: For Luck.

Jess: For Luck!

Drew: For Luck…

Jess: Yup!

Drew: I got twelve.

Jess: Well, okay. So, here's the thing about Luck.

Drew: Good luck and bad luck.

Jess: There's good Luck and there's bad Luck, and um, you can actually trade out skills for better Luck, but you have to take three points away from your skills to get an additional point of Luck, and you can do the reverse. You can trade your Luck to get more skills.

Drew: I dunno, I kind of like having high Luck, even if it could be bad for me, 'cause it feels fun.

Ronnie: You say that because you also have high skills, Drew.

Drew: [evil laughter]

Jess: It's true.

Ellie: Here's the thing. I think it would be hilarious if my robot, who's got all these high skills has really, really low Luck.

Jess: Aww! What a squishy baby!

Ev: That's really charming.

Ronnie: As my quote spirit says: "Even the blunders of life have their own meaning and value."

Jess: Aw! [laughs]

Ellie: Ronnie! Your character and my character should get tea!

Ronnie: [laughs] Yes!

Ellie: Well I mean…

Drew: My character will buy the tea and grumble about it.

Ellie: Everyone's invited!

Ronnie: He doesn't have to!

Drew: Yeah, but that doesn't matter, I'm your elder!

Jess: So, I'm just figuring stuff out on this end, but um…

Drew: There's no spot for age.

Jess: You can put age down... somewhere.

Drew: So, are we following, um, the rule with, uh, I think D&D has a thing where you actually get lower skills if you're older…

Jess: No, we're not. We're ignoring all that. [laughs]

Drew: Okay. Did I say I was 68 or 63?

Ellie: I think 63?

Ev: Yeah.

Drew: 63, okay.

Jess: Okay, so here's how Luck is gonna work. You can use it to re-roll rolls. For example, if you have a 20 on Luck, you can reroll 3 rolls a session, and they don't have to just be yours, they just have to affect you in some way or another. So, if you have 20 Luck you can reroll 3 times. If you have 19, 3 times, Eighteen, three times. Seventeen, two times. Sixteen, two times. Fifteen, one time. Fourteen, one time. Thirteen, one time. Twelve, eleven, ten, and nine have no Luck values one way or the other. And then, if you have…

Drew: Twelve has nothing or twelve is still one?

Jess: Twelve is nothing.

Drew: Twelve is nothing.

Jess: Twelve is average. Yep. You can't reroll, um, unless you have greater than twelve. If you have eight or less, I get to reroll a roll against you!

Ronnie: Oh…

Jess: If you have a 4 or a 3, I get to reroll two rolls against you! And if you have a 2 or a 1, I get to reroll three rolls against you. There are some other things that Luck will have, and you can combine Luck for things, and Luck does have other applications, like there will be times where I won't know if something's going to go one way or another, where you'll roll a Luck thing. So, at the moment I get to roll against Ellie and Ronnie twice a session.

Ronnie: [laughs sadly]

Ellie: It's okay.

Drew: Sucks to be them!

Ellie: HuM4n's fine about it.

Jess: And the only people who get rerolls, are Drew and Ev, which... wait, no! Drew doesn't get any!

Drew: No.

Jess: So only Ev gets to reroll.

Ev: Heyo!

Drew: I don't get any rerolls but you don't get to roll against me!

Jess: Yup.

Ellie: You said three d6 right?

Jess: Yeah.

Ellie: Wow, I rolled so terribly!

Jess: I kinda like it! I kinda like the low…

Drew: I think it's hilarious that you and Ronnie both rolled the same thing.

Ev: The same really bad thing!

Drew: Yeah.

Jess: It's so impressive... Christ. Okay, um, now let's do materials. Um. Which are Status, Education, Money, and Equipment. Your Status and Education will have some effect. Money's probably going to have the most effect to start, because that's going to depend on what, it's gonna change your budget around, and then Equipment is also a thing. So, roll one d6.

Drew: Pardon?

Jess: Roll one d6.

Drew: Okay.

Ellie: Okay, I rolled a six.

Jess: Okay, that's your... that's your Status, so you have been with this company the longest, Ellie.

Drew: Oh man, I rolled a four.

Ev: Hey, that doesn't make any goddamn sense! [laughs]

Drew: Hey it's your bad luck.

Jess: I mean, it's kinda like, if you're middle management, and this robot's kinda come along and is kind of, muscling you out.

Ev: Climbing the corporate ladder!

Jess: Yeah! [laughs]

Drew: That means I'm gonna hate you!

Ev: [sarcastic] Goddamn robots takin' our jobs!

Jess: You could get along!

Ronnie: I got a five.

Ev: I also have a five.

Drew: That doesn't make any sense!

Ev: Aw man, I'm at the same Status as the, the intern?

Drew: I have LESS Status than the intern!

Jess: I don't, I think it also is like, societal level Status, so if you have Status in certain groups, that might also count towards this. So maybe the fact that Ellie's kind of the leader of a church is gonna bump her Status up a little bit.

Ellie: I mean, it's kind of a church. Kind of, but not really.

Ronnie: I'm internet famous! [laughs]

Jess: [laughs]

Ev: You have a lot of followers on Tumblr!

Drew: People are just jealous of my bear arms.

[laughter]

Drew: My friends have all died. I have no Status because they're all dead.

Jess: Aw!

Ev: Oh my god, Drew!

Jess: It's because our society doesn't respect the elderly.

Ev: Yeah.

Drew: I'm sure they just ship us off to get burned or something.

Jess: Aww! It's not THAT dystopian! I'll just work you until you're dead!

Drew: Oh, okay.

Jess: Okay so roll me another d6, guys.

Ellie: And this is for Education?

Jess: Uh, actually I'm gonna let you roll first, and then we'll figure it out, so it makes more sense next time!

Ellie: I rolled a three.

Jess: 'Kay.

Ronnie: I got a one!

Drew: I rolled a two.

Ev: I have a five again.

Jess: Okay, it does make sense for this to be Education, right?

Drew: Yeah!

Ev: I think so.

Drew: I already said that my character did go to, like didn't go to school, he just learned his stuff from Trades.

Jess: Yeah.

Drew: He failed high school, so.

Jess: I'm guessing that Ev, your guy went to, like, your person went to like, a Clerical college? Like a religious…

Ev: Yeah. Um, yeah, probably.

Jess: And then, Ronnie is like, a homeless teenager, so... Roll again, guys!

Ronnie: Gah! [dropped their dice probably]

Ev: Frick, I got a three for Money.

Jess: 'Kay.

Ellie: I got a four.

Ronnie: Oh dang! I got a four for Money.

Jess: Okay!

Drew: I rolled it off of the edge of my book. [laughs]

Jess: Don't do that!

Drew: I rolled a six! Retirement money!

Ev: Retirement mon! [laughs]

Jess: Okay, nice, so, this is your weekly income in Creds, which are the currency. Actually…

Drew: Six dollars a week!

Ev: [laughs]

Jess: Well, if you'll look, I think you actually get twice that.

Ev: Yeah, you said it was two weeks back pay when you start.

Jess: Yeah, it's two weeks back pay, is what you've got sort of behind you, so you've got twelve creds to start. You get six a week but you have two weeks of back pay. But, you do have, like, weekly things you might have to pay, like rent and rations, uh…

Ellie: Question!

Jess: Yeah?

Ellie: Do I pay rations if I don't eat?

Jess: Um, oil, maintenance, that kind of thing.

Ellie: Ahh.

Jess: Also, you as a druid/technomancer/paladin have to pay for a Holy Site with 1 Cred monthly, so you can subtract that from your income.

Drew: That's complicated.

Jess: Yeah, I wanted to make this, uh, a game about budgeting.

Drew: In the loan section, are we doing compound loaning?

Jess: No, because I don't want to have to do that much math.

Ronnie: Hey! Hey! Stop! [laughs] Noooooo! [yelps]

Jess: I don't know what's happening over there, but I bet it's disgusting.

Ev: I think Drew and Ronnie are being married right now. [laughs]

Jess: God... damnit.

Ev: They're doing married shit.

Jess: This is what happens when you invite married people to anything, right?

Drew: I'm tickling them!

[laughter]

Jess: [sarcastic] Gross.

Ronnie: Okay, okay.

Jess: They don't deserve that. Anyway! Um, you guys all need rent to rent out a place and rations. You can combine those however you want. If you want to eat fois gras in a gutter, that's fine. If you wanna eat spam in a mansion, that's also fine. Uh, you can get yourself some prosthesis…

Drew: There's very little money to start with!

Jess: You guys don't have, like glamorous jobs, you know that right? Like…

Drew: Yeah I know, but we've been living for a while! You'd think we'd have SOME money to start with!

Ev: I have a partner who brings in her own income, presumably!

Drew: Yeah, right?

Jess: It's Capitalist Space Future! Do you wanna... [laughs] You have to pay Air loans probably!

Drew: Can I just get a tattoo of a corporation on my ass and call it a day?

Jess: I mean, you can if you want! That's probably why you get six, six pay a week!

Ev: Earl is so into body modding. [laughs]

Drew: Earl IS into body modding.

Jess: There is totally like, underground body modding places, and people get addicted to modding their bodies until they're like, weird. Ah... Space Future.

Ellie: Can I use my creds that aren't, that are part of my Money to get a tiny automaton familiar?

Jess: Yes, of course you can!

Ellie: [happy sound]

Jess: Um…

Drew: Where are the familiars?

Jess: The familiars are for wizards and druids. You can get one. It's gonna be alive by magic whereas Ellie's is gonna be alive by religious…

Ellie: It's a tiny robot!

Drew: But, but isn't that like a baby then?

Jess: I was thinking more like the daemons from The Golden Compass and The Amber Spyglass, but robots.

Drew: I was just thinking 'cause it's robot, I'm like isn't there some sort of like, weird existential thing that you have to consider because you're also a robot?

Jess: Yeah, Ellie! Do you?

Ellie: Sorry?

Jess: Do you have to consider that, that they're babies, or is it different for robots?

Drew: Or that they're equal?

Ellie: They're different for robots!

Drew: But doesn't that have like a weird supremacy thing for robots though?

Jess: [laughs]

Ellie: No! It's my buddy!

Ev: It's like, you know, being a human and owning a dog. Like, they're still flesh and blood guys, they're just like, dumb and you know, you have to take care of them.

Drew: A dog, a dog isn't a tiny human, though!

Ellie: I have a connection with my tiny robot friend! It's like we're both friends on equal terms.

Jess: Also, I think in this society, there are like, dogs that are as intelligent as people, and dogs that aren't. I think that it's gotten to the point where people occasionally will just make a creature or a species super smart 'cause they can.

Drew: That that mean that there are like, super not-smart people?

Jess: Hmmm…

Ev: I dunno if I like that, 'cause that gets into weird like, weird territory.

Jess: That gets kind of into, um, what's-it-called, that one dystopian, not nineteen-eighty... Brave New World! It gets a bit Brave New World. I'm not sure we're gonna go that far into the like, intelligence hierarchy, some-people-are-better-than-others…

Drew: Yeah, I'm fine with not doing that! I was just asking about robots.

Ev: [sad laugh]

Jess: It's interesting from a robot perspective. I wonder if it's like, based on how, like, close they are to the Singularity.

Ev: Well, plus we also have in this world, robots that are dead people's souls put into machines.

Jess: Oh yeah! That's a thing!

Ellie: Maybe I built my own familiar.

Jess: Aww!

Drew: Oh I know what, I know what I want now!

Jess: Yeah?

Drew: I want Earl's, like, Life Partner to have passed on [Ev gasps], and they had decided he was going to go into like, one of those, um, machines and then like he was super fit-looking and awesome and he's like "See ya later, Earl!" and then just like leaves.

Ev: Ohh!!

[lots of sob laughing]

Drew: So that was Earl's like, retirement funds.

Jess: Aw!!

Ev: Oh my god!!

Ellie: He's... he's so sad and awwuh!

Jess: So, does Earl not have any money anymore? Did you get it, like, the large…

Drew: He gets six Creds! Of course he doesn't have any money! I'm trying to explain away the fact that he's saved for like sixty years and he's got like, 12 Creds!

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: Um, do I need to pay for my prosthesis or should I just like imagine that I paid for them when I was young like I said?

Jess: I think I might have to make you pay for your prosthesis.

Ev: Noo!

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: I still have one dollar left!

Jess: You have your Equipment money! I gave you Equipment money!

Drew: Yeah, then I'll just be naked! [laughs]

Ronnie: [laughs]

Ev: Christ.

Jess: I'm assuming you have…

Drew: Do I have to pay for each arm or can it just be 11 dollars, 11 Cred?

Jess: I think you just paid for it all. You can can also have been in debt for the last like…

Ev: Rope is really expensive.

Jess: That's... [laughs]

Drew: Oh, what's the deal with the bondage rope that I had suggested?

Jess: You get to keep your bondage rope, but if Ellie wants rope, she has to pay full price.

Drew: Okay.

Ellie: Jess, how much are weapons and what what weapons are available for a druid?

Jess: Um, so... mostly, you just have to look at the druid weapons in AD&D and then we're gonna adapt them.

Ellie: Can I have a quarter staff?

Jess: Yeah.

Ellie: Alright.

Ev: And that goes for spells, too, right?

Jess: Yeah.

Ev: We're just doing AD&D ones?

Jess: Yeah. If you want.

Drew: Is there, like, a certain amount of spells?

Jess: Uh, same as AD&D, it's just whether we're gonna start you as level one or level three. What would you guys prefer?

Drew: Uh…

Ev: What's a man catcher?

Jess: What?

Ev: I'm looking at Cleric weapons and there's something called a man catcher.

Jess: Like a net? [laughs]

Drew: Jess?

Jess: Yeah?

Drew: I'd like to advocate because I have bear arms, that I get to use one of the D&D things where I have claws, which actually is an attack weapon.

Jess: Okay, but you don't get any other weapons except for a magic gun if you wanna shell out the money for that.

Drew: Well, I mean, I'm already shelling out the money for my arms, they're 11 Cred, right?

Jess: Yeah, it's true! [laughs]

Drew: So I just wanna be able to use my claws if I need to!

Jess: Yeah, those are probably gonna be a 1d4 damage. And I think the thing is, the reason they would be kind of lower as well is because I think there are a lot of robots and people who have body mods and you're gonna need energy weapons.

Drew: Well, and also I'm just old. So my physical body is probably pretty old, even if my bear arms are rad.

Jess: Man, you could probably get your claws, like, upgraded into laser claws at some point.

Drew: That'd be cool. I wonder if my bear arms need to be replaced at points because bears, like, live way less and so every like, ten years my bear arms have to be replaced when they, like shrivel up and fall off.

Ronnie: Gah!

Jess: [laughs] So they're like actual bear arms not just like, look like bear arms?

Drew: Yeah, they're actual bear arms!

Jess: I love it, okay, yeah.

Ellie: So Jess, are we first level or third level, 'cause that changes how many spells I can get.

Jess: I know! [sighs] ...I guess you guys are third level.

Ronnie: I have picked out my stuff!

Jess: Oh yeah? What do you have?

Ronnie: I have a Hacker's kit, one alternate ID which is The Oracle... xx27…

Jess: [laughs]

Ronnie: Uh, two costumes, a glow worm, and... a set of Dream Interference. And... no weapon because this shitty teen doesn't understand.

Jess: I am gonna get that shitty teen a hoverboard if it's the last thing I do.

Ev: Oh good.

Jess: [laughs] Like, I just want the shittiest, eighty-est, 80s-est…

Drew: So the hat actually says that it doesn't have to be a spell! I get a special effect, which can be frost resistance, advantage on charisma rolls, or an extra spell slot!

Jess: Shit! [laughs]

Ev: Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking when we were talking about it, Jean. You can change it if you want, but I was thinking like, it's like having an item equipped in a video game where it like, gives you a buff or something.

Jess: Yeah, I think that's it. I think I just said "spell" because I'm a sleepy baby all the time, and I don't know what's going on in the game I'm creating! So.. yeah!

Drew: I think I'm gonna end up getting a loan, I think.

Jess: I'll just have to keep track of that, and then there'll be creditor organizations who are keeping an eye on you, and I'll just have to remember that.

Ev: Can I have a, a sword?

Jess: Yes.

Ev: A non-haunted sword?

Jess: Yyyyyeesssss... I feel like you're kind of edging more towards the Paladin territory in some ways…

Ev: That's true.

Jess: I don't think that's a bad thing. I think it kind of, almost fits with the character more than the Cleric?

Ev: I can do a Paladin.

Jess: Yeah.

Ev: Alright, yeah, I'll just be a Paladin. Fuck it!

Jess: I feel like there's probably a cool name we could give to the Paladins, for the Future Times, but we'll figure that out.

Drew: Pala-don'ts.

Jess: [laughs] Pala-do?

Ev: [laughs]

Drew: Pala-outs!

Jess: Uh, Pala-drives?

Ev: Pals!

Jess: Like, drive? Like... a computer drive?

Ev: Hm....

Jess: No?

Ev: Mods? [laughs]

Jess: Oh no wait, I love that! [laughs]

Ev: Well, that doesn't really make sense, 'cause they're not really in charge of any, like, they're not like, well... I dunno! A mod?

Jess: Um, admins?

Drew: How come technomancers get to be in the druid/cleric/paladin AND in the wizard section?

Jess: Uh, 'cause technomancers can use, uh, pretty much they can use wizard or druid magic to affect the Dreaming.

Drew: Okay. ...What's a spring belt?

Jess: Oh, the spring belt is, uh, if you have your weapon in it, it means you always have it at the ready, so even in surprise attacks, you're not gonna get surprised and you can attack and roll initiative.

Drew: Okay. Um, and what's a travelling duster?

Jess: Like, a cool duster, like the jacket in [shyly] ...Fallout New Vegas.

Ev: [laughs]

Ellie: You're a nerd, Jess.

Jess: Hey.

Ronnie: I might need it.

Jess: [laughs] Oh my god, you do need it!

Ev: That's what that hoodie is! [laughs]

Jess: Oh my god, no. I need…

Ronnie: My hoodie is actually a travel duster?

Drew: Ooh what's a festival lantern do?

Jess: I think it's just a cool lantern! [laughs]

Drew: Dentures?! C'mon! I've been working here for how many years and I don't get coverage for dentures?

Jess: Yeah, there is definitely only private health insurance in the future.

Drew: I'll gum you to death!

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: Uh, so right now I need, I would need a 14 Credit loan.

Jess: I think you can get a 14 Credit loan. I'll just write it down. Does anyone else need a loan?

Ev: Yeah, I need a loan of... 4 dollars.

Drew: I'll, I'll probably need to get one or two Credits more just so I can clothes. Um, but, that's what I'll ask for right now, and then I'll email you about it later.

Jess: Cool.

Ronnie: My clothes come from the garbage!

[laughter]

Ronnie: Except for the cool duster thing.

Ev: You saved up for a good jacket.

Jess: Aw, that's so, like, like, I'm just imagining zem like, saving all of their money for weeks on end and spending it all on a jacket.

Is there anything else you guys want to go over before we leave? Any worldbuilding stuff that you think is really appropriate to this world that you need me to inject right now?

Ellie: Well, I don't know if it's really anything important, but I thought, so we all have usernames in the Dream, right?

Jess: Yeah.

Ellie: My robot's username is Sore_491, and it's that because the robot had to have a human friend help to log in because of the prove-you're-not-a-robot, and that was what, that was the code that needed to be typed in, and the human thought it would be funny to name the robot's…

Jess: Username.

Ellie: Yeah.

Drew: Hey, can my guy's name be deepthroat_69?

[laughter]

Jess: Yeah! Absolutely! And I bet, yeah, he had to be really fast on the draw to get that, that username.

Drew: What I, well I, well he's old, right? But he…

Ev: Yeah he's had it since the Internet was new!

Drew: I want it be that, basically they, um, you can't change your username once you have it, so like, so like he just went into the Dreaming when he was horny one time or something, and then he got this job later on and he was like "Fuck, whatever." [laughs]

Ev: There's probably SO many people with that, that that has happened to!

Jess: Yeah, like... Oh, I want the mayor's username to be, like... 420justblaze$$$, and like, part of their campaign was being like, now I'm a serious candidate!

Ellie: One of the heads of the churches is called MiLady450.

Jess: [laughs] Cleric…

Ronnie: There is so much Vaporwave in this, in this RP right now.

Ev: It's so good. I'm trying to think of something that Adie would have... It's probably something that they thought was really clever when they were a teenager... shit.

Ellie: Can there just be a, epidemic of memes? In the church? Like…

Jess: [laughs]

Ellie: [laughs] like another head of the church has one that's "Can I Haz Churchburger?"

Drew: Noooooooooo!

Ellie: [laughs]

Ev: I bet this is a future where there's definitely, like, a church of Our Lord Dril, or something like that. [laughs]

Jess: Oh god! Oh god....

Drew: I want people to be back to worshiping cats again.

Jess: I think, I think we can do that. Think they probably put on performances of Cats every Sunday. IN the Dreaming, though. Like, they got kicked out of other... they can't do it Live anymore. They, have a Live, once a year, Cats performance.

Ev: Oh, oh! Can we have it, can he have "Hugh Jackman's Huge Act-in" be canon in this universe?

Jess: Yeah, definitely.

Drew: Hugh Jackman's what?

Jess: It's a CoolGames Inc. ... it's a podcast where they make up game ideas, but one of them was "Hugh Jackman's Huge Act-in." You get to be the actors in Broadway show of your dreams, and it's virtual. You're virtually kind of, filled into a lobby.

Ev: It's VR theatre, and, and it's such a good concept, and I'm so mad that it doesn't exist. [laughs]

Jess: I feel like there's, like, bazillions of entertainment channels, and some of them are just like virtual, and some of them are real actors, and some of them are just Amateur Hour. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's a, like, station called "Amateur Hour."

Ev: [laughs] Good.

Ronnie: [laughs]

Drew: I, I drew Ronnie's and my character. [shuffling paper] [The drawing shows Earl with an arm around Zibyl.]

[chorus of giggles and "aww"s]

Jess: "You're gonna go far, kid."

Drew: [laughs]

Ev: He's so little!

Drew: He's super short! He's like 5'2" or something!

Ellie: Like, he's reaching up with his arm!

Drew: Yeah.

[laughing and yelling, probably because Drew's showing a drawing of Earl with a leather harness and black g-string.]

Jess: That's happening. I guess.

[laughter]

Ev: Is that...

Ellie: Earl's the best.

Ev: Is that his avatar?

Drew: That's his, so he's got two avatars. He's got his like, cruising avatar, and then this is his regular avatar. [Drew shows the drawing of Earl's avatar, which has him in his normal dress and slacks with suspenders and bowtie, but taller and more svelte.]

Ev: Oh, yeah!

Jess: So cute!

Ellie: Earl is the best.

Ev: Earl's the cutest character I've seen in my life. Oh my god.

Drew: Back to his cruising avatar! [laughs] [Earl is in a harness and g-string again in this drawing, but with his more "ideal" build as an avatar.]

Ev: Jesus Christ. [laughs]

Ellie: Wow.

Ev: Oh boy.

Drew: [showing another drawing] This is his partner that left him when he got downloaded into a robot!

Ev: Aw!!

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: Um, what's in the, uh Adventurer's kit?

Ev: Whatever we want, I think, right?

Jess: Yup! And, like, you can...

Drew: Whatever we want?

Ev: Well.

Jess: And if you can try to convince me it's like, something you would carry, I will just say yes to you carrying it, but you can't go ridiculous with it. You can't be like "I have the item we're looking for!" or "I have the Heart of the Dreaming!" Neither of those things are gonna happen, so, like.

Ronnie: [laughs] So, like, in Pathfinder there's actually a Perk called "Packrat," for Ratfolk, which is, if there is a mundane item that we need, I can just say "Oh, I happen to have it!"

Drew: That is one thing I like about Pathfinder, is that they give you, like you get to pick a couple qualities and they affect your characters, like what is that?

Ev: Oh, that's like what we have!

Drew: The [traits] are really cool, and they can be things that like affect your character, so one of the [traits] can be like you're rich, and you start out with like, three times the amount of money, but that wastes one of your [traits] so it only affects you at the beginning of the game, basically. Whereas, um, you can have a [traits] where, what is it? One of them is that I was an orphan, so everyone who didn't have parents trusted me more automatically.

Jess: Heh! It does kind of also sound like, uh, the proficiencies, almost. Which, are just things you're kinda good at. You'll get proficiencies, you can be good at stuff that isn't, like, directly based... like dancing and cooking an' things like that.

Drew: Earl's really good at tying things.

Ronnie: [laughs]

Jess: Okay.

Ev: That's not surprising.

Drew: We had that discussion.

Ellie: Can I have animal handling?

Jess: Yes, but you can apply it to robots.

Drew: Do you have a list of possible ones or are we just making them up and asking?

Ellie: I'm gonna apply it to robots.

Ev: Uhh... can we, I think we can make 'em up, right? As long as they're not weapon proficiencies?

Drew: Um, and how many do we get?

Jess: Uh, magic-user has three non-weapon, but a Druid begins with three non-weapon slots and gains another at level six, book rules suggest a character should receive two additional slots every six levels. [distant meowing] So you get up to five at level six. A paladin gets two non-weapon slots, one more is gained at level three. A thief acrobat, which is...

Ronnie: [distant] Sheppard, come here!

Sheppard: [continues meowing]

Ev: [laughs]

Jess: Um. [laughs]

Ev: Everyone be quiet, there's a cat talking!

[laughter]

Jess: I don't want to interrupt, but here's something else that's also useful. [sends link]

Sheppard: [meows louder]

[laughter]

Ellie: Jess, I want ancient history!

Jess: Okay. Oh, here's a great list, shit!

Ev: God, the background on this site is balls...

Drew: It's balls and ass!

Ev: [laughs]

Drew: It's a, like, hairy anus.

[laughter]

Jess: But it's useful! Look, I, I didn't make this site!

Drew: Just paste it to a google doc and save our eyes!

Jess: I will paste it into a google doc later!

Ev: [laughs] How difficult are we making your job right now, Jess?

Jess: Not, I mean, you just changed the rules of the game like six times, but...

Ev: Well...

Jess: But it's fine! [laughs]

Ev: It's like, okay so...

Sheppard: [meows loudly into the mic]

Jess: Oh my god that's the loudest cat in the world.

[laughter]

Ev: Who even is this cat?

Drew: You know what's even louder? I'm reading about a spell called Ghost Sounds that sounds completely useless.

Jess: What, what is the spell called Ghost Sounds?

Drew: Um, you just make a sound that people think could be a ghost. You send a whisper fifty feet away.

Ev: Ohhhh, I wish my character believed in ghosts! [laughs]

[laughter]

Jess: This is a decision, okay? Uh, so I decided that technomancy comes in three forms, and... There are Clerics who can like, religious people use their belief to manipulate the world and technology. Magic users use magic over technology to manipulate technology and, um, LARPers, Bards, that lot use technology to manipulate magic, and mechanically, that means that if you are a religious person, you roll under your Wisdom to Hack. If you are a Wizard, you roll under your Intelligence to Hack, and if you are a Bard, you use your Charisma to Hack. Because basically Bards sweet talk the machine into doing what they want.

Drew: "Hey baby... take your cables and tie them up real nice..."

Ronnie: Actually it's... [laughs]

Drew: "Heheheheheh..."

Jess: Earl is a terrible Wizard. Um, here is the other thing, Drew, I'm just making sure you know this... You can use spells that aren't in your spellbook, but you will forget them forever.

Drew: Okay...! I didn't know that, but now I'm like... I'll have to look into spells that I wanna have as like my eventually-I'll-forget-this-spell but it's a pull-it-out-of-my-ass kind of thing.

Ev: Your burn spells.

Drew: Yeah. I don't have my Ass Spells yet though, so.

Jess: Yeah, I just figured you should probably know that.

Drew: I appreciate that.

Ev: All of Earl's spells are Ass Spells.

Drew: Heheheheh!

Jess: [laughs] 'Specially those rope spells. Anyway! Moving swiftly... on!

Ellie: Alright, I was just saying I'm having swimming as one of HuM4n the robot's... proficiencies... even though HuM4n is a robot.

Ev: They could be waterproof. I mean, she could be waterproof.

Ellie: Yeah, but she feels uncomfortable!

Ev: [laughs]

Jess: It's so cute!

Ev: That doesn't sound like a proficiency!

Ronnie: [laughs]

Ellie: No, it's like she's, she's good at swimming, it's just she hates it!

Drew: That's fair.

Ellie: You know how you have parents and they're like "Err, you're gonna do this," and you're like "Why," and then you get good at it, and you're like "I still don't like it!"

Ronnie: [laughs]

Drew: Yeah.

Ellie: That's HuM4n's experience swimming.

Ronnie: Obviously Zibyl is good at sewing.

Ev: Aw!

Drew: Why is it obvious?

Ronnie: Because, Zibyl made zeir clothes from garbage!

[chorus of "aww"s]

Ronnie: And also, uh, and also...

Drew: Why does, uh, Zibyl have red eyes? [Referring to a drawing Ronnie is making]

Ronnie: 'Cause that's what that breed of rat looks like!

Ev: [laughs]

Ronnie: Anyway! Zibyl makes zeir clothes from all of the hand-me-downs from zeir gazillion sibilings, and so...

Ev: Their zibilings?!

[laughter]

Jess: No!

Ronnie: Zeir gazillion ziblings! [laughs]

Jess: No!

Ev: [laughs]

Jess: No! Please... Okay, I'm going to get more water, you guys have to make some decisions! We have to move on this!

Drew: This, this list of spells is, like, terrible! It's so hard!

Jess: Yeah, you shitty spells 'cause you're a shit wizard!

Ronnie: [laughs loudly]

Jess: Get a promotion! Maybe get some better spells!

Drew: I more mean that it's difficult to find what it is, but that's fair! That's fair.

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: Um, you didn't get back to me about, you were going to think about my hat, because what you had told me and what the sheet said about what my hat can do is different, and you said you were going to think about it.

Jess: Yes. It can... buff you. Choose a buff. But choose a buff that isn't, like, "I want this for my character for gameplay reasons." Think about it in the world. Like, what did... wait, I can't remember Earl's... oh, Earl. Not deepthroat69, which is why I have it written here.

[laughter]

Jess: Um, what did Earl's, like, mentor... what would he, or she, or they have wanted to pass down to Earl? And what kind of person would they, like what kind of buff would they have put on that hat? So you think about that, I'm gonna get some water...

Ev: My character wants to mentor Ronnie's character, that's, like immediately what they, like... I was talking to Jess about this, they're... actually no, I was talking to Ellie about this I think!

Ellie: Mm-hmm!

Ev: Which is that, they want to take Zibyl under their wing and have Earl take zem under his wing! And then they'd want HuM4n to just not be there. [laughs]

Drew and Ronnie: [laughs]

Ellie: [in a robot voice] HuM4n understands, but will not comply. Beep boop!

[laughter]

Drew: I love it. ...There's not a lot of spells, because they're not sorted in any way, on this Wiki, so it's like going through all these shitty random spells that all like, does this weird obscure thing from this one side quest thing.

Ev: Hmm.

Jess: I'm back!

Ev: Well, I mean maybe you could think about what kind of effects you wanna have, and then just pick something that's similar to that and you can mod it, y'know?

Drew: Yeah, I'm just, a lot of them do things that I don't even know what they mean. So I'm just trying to find ones that make sense, 'cause there's a lot of like weird, stuff being like "alter normal winds" and "avert evil eye, means that Evil Eye doesn't affect you," and then I have to read about what Evil Eye is...

Jess: Evil Eye is someone watching ya. Creepin on ya.

Drew: Oh, okay. That's actually not bad.

Jess: Yeah, I mean I would say you could mod that and be like, it means that cameras around you will go out!

Drew: I like that!

Ev: I really wanna fast ask about, are we, are we doing alignments, because a lot of my stuff has to do with alignments. [laughs] And if it's, I mean, I can totally pick and choose and sort of ignore the whole Detect Evil stuff, but...

Jess: I think... [sighs] Ah, shit, are we doing alignments...

Ev: I don't want to have to be Lawful Good. I, like, that's the most boring thing about being a Paladin ever.

Jess: Oh, I'm definitely not, like, constraining anyone to anything, like...

Ev: Okay, okay...

Jess: Like, those systems exist, but you do not have to abide by, like, race restrictions, character class restrictions... all that shit. Nah. Nah son.

Ronnie: I think, Ev, is that, it's not necessarily that your character is Good because everyone's vision of good is different, just as long as your character falls within their scripture, the honoring the five things...

Ev: Yeah.

Ronnie: I can't remember which... the body things. The bones and the blood stuff.

Ev: Yeah, I think... Yeah, I think I'm gonna go with, like, they... maybe "evil" in this case is stuff that doesn't... well, that's a really really broad base... I dunno. I think maybe, maybe it would be best to just ignore the "what here is evil" skill, because it's so weird and broad, and it doesn't make much sense in terms of actual morality.

Jess: What about "What here is malevolent," or what if you have a virus scanner?

Ev: Ooh! That's exactly what I'm gonna do!

Jess: Like, you can just check if things have bad spells and bad viruses and shit.

Ev: Yeah! Okay, I love that. That's awesome. Oh, and I also have uh, a thing called "Aura of Protection," which is that if Evil tries to attack me within, like, a certain range, it take a -1 penalty, and I'm just gonna say I have really good antivirus software.

Jess: [laughs]

Ev: Okay.

Jess: Okay!

Ellie: So, Jess?

Jess: Hmm?

Ellie: I was thinking about "Speak with Machines." Does that mean there's more than one language with machines?

Jess: I think there might be multiple languages. Because there are like, Ev and I were talking and there are like, different platforms that can get you onto the Dreaming with, and we're making some analogies to like, Wizards and Clerics and Bards being, like, your Mac users, your PC users, and you Linux users. So that's that, and then like to get to the Dreaming you have different "browsers" quote unquote...

Ev: There's also like different programming languages in general that you can use.

Jess: Yeah. That's what I was thinking like, the different classes maybe create... they can all create robots, right? So maybe a robot created by a Cleric has a different language to one created by a Wizard, to one created just by mechanics, to one created by a Bard.

Ellie: But maybe robots speak just like, maybe the spell, 'cause I've got a spell "Speak with Machines," maybe they speak to each other on a spiritual level.

Ev: How would you communicate with a microphone that doesn't have any kind of... maybe that's what allows you to communicate with machines that don't have any kind of like, sentience or whatever, or...

Drew: Maybe you would give them sentience briefly?

Ellie: [dramatically] But Ev! We're ALL from the Earth!

Ev: Yeah but, I can't talk to cows!

Jess: [guffaws]

Jess: [quietly] Sorry.

Ev: Or I can but I can't communicate with them!

Drew: Oh dear.

Jess: Can I also just say, uh one thing we did talk about was that Hymn is the language of the Church of the Born, their like programming language is called Hymn. Like H-Y-M-N.

Ev: I, I thought it was more like, the language of religious things, because the Church of the Born, their whole thing is like, "we don't really do that," so... [laughs]

Jess: Okay, yeah, so maybe it's just that. Religious things.

Ev: Like Clerics use Hymn to do their shit.

Jess: Uhhh, oh, and I found the browser names for where you jack in. Uh, it's Reverie, which is like, Opera, and then Lotus and Morpheus are the ones we have already.

Drew: Uh, so this, uh, thing doesn't actually have anything about the duration of the spell or anything like that, in the Wiki.

Jess: Well, uh, we can just make up durations.

Drew: Kay.

Jess: [laughs]

Drew: We'll figure it out when I actually use it.

Jess: I figure that probably, yeah, it's probably just going to be as long as narratively relevant, so I might just cut it out at a slightly inconveniently time. Cause that's more interesting.

Ellie: Maybe it could be Luck dependent.

Jess: Oh shit yeah! That's a good idea.

Ev: [to Drew] You do have nice Luck.

Ellie: And I have terrible luck!

Ev: That's a great way to use that.

Jess: Yeah.

Ronnie: Also it's funny how the things that I'm interested in have snuck into this roleplay. I mean, rats is obviously one of them!

Jess: [laughs] It's not surprising.

Ronnie: Oh, but, since I'm actually reading through the AD&D book I have a second time, like highlighting shit, I'm just, the things that I've read are just coming into the...

Drew: The what book?

Ronnie: The ADD... the ADD book, sorry.

Drew: [laughs] The AD&D book!

Ronnie: Oh no! [laughs]

Drew: That's why I was asking what you said!

Jess: We're all... yeah.

Ronnie: The ADD book... uh, so I guess Zibyl has ADD traits now. [laughs] Because that's sort of what...

Jess: That's fair.

Drew: Can we go over talking about what my familiar does?

Jess: Oh yeah.

Drew: And like where...

Jess: Where is your familiar right now by the way?

Drew: I don't know! Um, I don't know what my familiar would look like right or anything. We could retroactively have my familiar on my shoulder. A small one?

Jess: Yeah. Or you could have it on your desk?

Drew: I, I could be so creepy, I'm like, "I have a rat familiar!"

Ronnie: Ahh!

Drew: Like a little rat!

Jess: Aw! [laughs]

Ronnie: See, I was thinking about, about Zibyl being like super fond of cats.

Jess: Ha!

Drew: But I feel like the cat wouldn't be the small one.

Ronnie: No, probably not a tiny one, unless it was a tiny cat.

Drew: I could have a squirrel!

Ronnie: Can I run a couple proficiencies past Jess?

Drew: I don't have my proficiencies...

Jess: Yes. You can.

Ronnie: Uh, proficiency in telling whether or not food is good?

Jess: [laughs]

Ellie: Like poison detection?

Ronnie: It's like, yeah, it's like poison detection, but it's like, people are like "That looks bad," and then it's like, "No, you'll only just get mild diarrhea, it's fine."

Jess: Ha!

Drew: Yeah, but that would require you to know other peoples' makeup if you can tell what's going to affect them. I can see how it would affect you, but then you'd have to know like everyone else's biological makeup to know how it affects them.

Ronnie: Hmmm...

Ellie: It could be through observation.

Drew: Yeah, it could be through observation, I just meant like you can be that specific in that sense.

Ev: It is though a pretty like, I mean you could be that specific just because it might not be, like, THAT useful

[laughter]

Ev: Like in general, like it's a very specific thing, you know? It's not like it's an overpowered trait or something, y'know?

Ronnie: [laughs] It's true.

Jess: I mean, it might not even be poison detection, technically. Like you can't tell if it's poisoned, but man, those eggs in the back of your fridge? You should really throw them out.

[laughter]

Jess: Oh! No! You know what this is? Like, I think it's a magic thing. Like, I think some of the ratfolk have this weird, like, inborn useless magic and yours is like, it's not even like because you can smell good, it's 'cause... you have like, a sixth sense of whether food has gone bad or not.

Ronnie: [laughs]

Drew: I feel like that's probably gonna bite Earl in the butt because he's gonna look through something and he's gonna want to eat it, and you're gonna be like "That'll make you sick!" and Earl's gonna be like "Fuck you!" and then eat it, and then he's gonna get sick, and he's gonna be like [dramatic gravelly sick voice] "Euurgh, I'm not sick, I dunno what you're talking about! I'm gonna go away now..."

[laughter]

Jess: I also like the idea of like just being able to sense that food is rotten is just kind of really annoying. Like, there's like a constant anxious "Oh shit, in the back of that fridge, it's got someone else's name on it, someone else has labeled it, but there is mould growing up the inside of it, oh god."

[laughter]

Ronnie: Yes.

Ev: And yet, like a totally useful skill if you're a little rat child!

Ronnie: Yes! And so I'm thinking that, and sewing, and... the other thing is... is just like able to sprint for a long time.

Jess: Real hard.

Ronnie: Like compared to other people. Just because, having to run from shit constantly. [laughs]

Ev: And four legs!

Ronnie: And so, and so, if something goes bad, he's just like gone. Bye.

Drew: So we get three, um, three proficiencies right?

Jess: I think you do, yeah, I think everyone at this level has three proficiencies.

Ellie: I get four!

Jess: ...Fuck you, Ellie. [laughs]

Ellie: Aw, whatever. [laughs]

Ev: Do you really or is that...

Jess: Druids get four, and Paladins start, like if we'd started at level one you'd have only gotten two.

Ev: Yeah I'm annoyed. Goddamn it, I chose the wrong class. It's okay, I'm gonna fight the heck out of everybody! Just gimme a minute! [laughs]

Jess: Let us pray.

Drew: Um, okay so I've got knots, like, as one of my proficiencies.

Ev: Catch.

Drew: Well, slash rope. Um, I want leatherworking to be one of my other ones, and then cooking.

Jess: Good. Yeah. Done.

Ev: [laughs] Oh my goodness.

Jess: Okay. Outro! This has been Dicey Situations! I'm Jess.

Drew: I'm Drew!

Ev: I'm Avery.

Ellie: I'm Ellie!

Ronnie: And I'm Ronnie!

Drew: [sarcastic] No you're not!

Ellie: Breaking it down now!

Jess: No!

[laughter]

Jess: This has been a podcast about a game that's kind of being made as we play. We'll find out. It should be fun. See ya next week! [Makes clicking noises, probably while doing finger guns]

[Music fades in]

Drew: [laughs]

Jess: [shyly] Stop laughing.

Ellie: [singing] Ba ba ba, ba ba bada!

[Music continues, then fades out.]

Drew: But before we continue, is this, are these mechanics popular, or are they unpopular mechanics?

Jess: They are really, really unpopular. They've been bullied in the past.

Ronnie: Awwww!

Jess: You NERD. I'm gonna bully Drew!

Drew: [laughs] Bring it on!

Ev: [laughs]

[autolovecraft]

He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives.

Being without superstition, he did not care to imagine. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. Three coffin-heights, he reckoned, would permit him to reach the transom; but he could do better with four.

Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider. But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider. I'd hate to have it aimed at me! Instinct guided him in his wriggle through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. As he planned, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made. God, what a rage! There was evidently, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it. In either case it would have been appropriate; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit.

The body was pretty badly gone, but if ever I saw vindictiveness on any face—or former face. Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago. He was a scoundrel, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. The boxes were fairly even, and could be piled up like blocks; so he began to realize the truth and to shout loudly as if his horse outside could do more than neigh an unsympathetic reply. The wounds—for both ankles were frightfully lacerated about the Achilles' tendons—seemed to puzzle the old physician greatly, and finally almost to frighten him. For an impersonal doctor, Davis' ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles. It was just as he had recognized old Matt's coffin that the door slammed to in the wind, leaving him in a dusk even deeper than before. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley Cemetery, escaping only by crude and disastrous mechanical means; but while this much was undoubtedly true, there were other and blacker things which the man used to whisper to me in his drunken delirium toward the last. Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. For an impersonal doctor, Davis' ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to drain from the weakened undertaker every least detail of his horrible experience. Horrible pains, as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden box. Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try.

Perhaps he screamed.

There was evidently, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. He was the devil incarnate, Birch, but you got what you deserved. The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he did not heed the day at all; so that he was wise in so doing. There was evidently, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door.

For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. Birch decided that he would begin the next day with little old Matthew Fenner, whose grave was also near by; but actually postponed the matter for three days, not getting to work till Good Friday, the 15th. The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness. Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? In either case it would have been appropriate; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. Why did you do it, Birch? He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. To him Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider. Clutching the edges of the aperture. The day was clear, but a high wind had sprung up; and Birch was glad to get to shelter as he unlocked the iron door and entered the side-hill vault. Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. God, what a rage!

There was evidently, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door.

[chibisquirt]

That Fic I Want

Okay, so @flange5​, @kagekanecavi​, and @trickyarchangel​ have succeeded in pulling me down into the abyss which is The Untamed.  (It is soooo preeeeetty!!!!  And the Stony vibes are *real* let me tell you!!!)  

Anyway, naturally, I want fic-- and because it’s me, and I am the *most* predictable, one’s a crossover, while one’s a first time fic.  I will maybe someday write one or the other of them, but I have way too much to do to start on them now, so summaries it is.  

The first-time fic is standard “yes of course Bubbles wants that fic” fic, and no one should be surprised because I am trash.

The crossover, otoh, is a Doctrine of Labyrinths crossover which turns into Fix-it Fic because fuck you, this is my wish-fulfillment, I’ll save my tiny hyper-competent girlfriend if I want to.  I know I could write it in such a way that you don’t need to know both fandoms to read it, you only need to one or the other...  Hopefully this description is readable like that, too.

Help me, I’m in hell.

So the first place this comes from is, “you know who it would be *hilarious* to throw at these two gay idiots?  Felix and Mildmay!”  Which means non-DoL people need to know who those are.  

Felix is a magic user, and Mildmay, his half-brother, is an ex-assassin, ex-thief.  They both have SO MANY issues, from their personal histories (both children of poverty and abuse, but Felix was trained to use the manners of the powerful magic-using class, while Mildmay lived on the street) to the power differential between them to personal losses they’ve undergone.  Mildmay does not have magic, which makes him “annemer.”  The MDZS guys would say that Felix is a cultivator, and Mildmay is not, but that right there is one of the hurdles to writing this fic.

The way magic is described in the DoL books does not line up with the way Cultivation is described in MDZS.  So you have to find a way to reconcile those two.  DoL describes the uses and even abilities of magic changing as you move to a different culture, so that accounts for some of it; MDZS describes the energies involved in such a way that annemer may well be able to practice cultivation, so that fixes the rest.  For the actual fic, it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun to explore the similarities and differences in the two systems while still having a cohesive worldbuilding, but for the purposes of this summary, just know that the two are similar, but not the same.

So why do I want to write this nonsense?  

WELL...!

Felix is a powerful magic user, who used to be a child prostitute before being scooped off the streets by an INCREDIBLY abusive necromancer and trained as his protege.  He is incredibly talented, and eventually breaks free of the dark magic he was trained under, and the course of the books is basically one big story of him becoming a better person.  He is also as queer as a football bat, and proud of it. (One scene in the books in which he is voluntarily participating in an orgy is changed into a rape scene when he realizes that one of the participants is a woman.  He is That Gay.  He makes both LWJ and WWX look incredibly straight by comparison.)  He is glib, and clever, but with an addictive personality, and he’s prideful but for good reason, because next to him all the magicians in Corambis really do look a bit like morons.

Sound familiar, at all...?

Mildmay, on the other hand, was raised on the streets by a “thief keeper,” a woman in this case who taught him to use knives, and steal, and then-- when he got his face busted up and couldn’t be unobtrusive anymore-- to be an assassin, instead.  He has a large scar that makes his speech slur, so he rarely speaks or changes expression, but despite his troubled history, he is a Good Person, compassionate and actively *wanting* to be good.  He’s low-class-- and even when he has an opportunity to pretend to be high-class, he never takes it-- but he’s still, in his own way, a Gentleman.  He likes to tell stories, and to hear them; if he had been taught to read and write, he could easily have been a novelist.  Also he is apparently The Greatest Ever at cunnilingus, which really is the cherry on top of my adoration for the boy.

...Okay, so my MDZS folks all know now why I’m slavering to introduce these two assholes to LWJ and WWX, right?  Cool.  Glad we’re on the same page.

DoL ends with our heroes at loose ends in a country with an empire of unknown characterization and size across the sea from them; also, they live on the coast, and have a history of traveling.  So it’s easy to imagine that they ended up in Ygres for... some reason... and that Ygres borders the land MDZS is set in (which as far as I know doesn’t have a name???)  

So this story would start with Felix and Mildmay being called into an audience with the Ygressine empress, who was originally from the Wen clan.*

The Wen empress is pretty thoroughly Ygressine by this point, but still wants to do right by her tiny bits of remaining family.  She sits on her cushions and pets her cat and gives our boys a task.  

She tells our boys about the Sunshot campaign that ended her clan, and about the cruelty afterwards that finished off the last of them.  Then she says that one of her relatives managed to survive the purge after the war by putting her soul into a vessel.  “This cousin of mine, Wen Qing, was very skilled and very clever, and so she has been able to retain her life, but her body perished.  She was a friend of the Yiling Patriarch, and was sure that he could restore her to herself, but alas, he himself died only a few days after she did, long before she was able to reach his side.”  

“So she’s stuck,” Mildmay says.

“Unfortunately, yes.  She made her way to me, and I have kept her safe and comfortable as well as I can since.”  She strokes the cat again.  The cat lashes its tail.

“You want us to restore her,” Felix guesses, madly trying to figure out what he knows about necromancy and praying this chick hasn’t become a fantome or a rachenant in the meantime.

“I doubt you can,” the empress says, “you don’t even know the basics of swordsmanship. No, I want you to find the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian.”

“The dead one, you mean?”

“We heard the story from three different spies,” the empress says, smiling thinly.  “He has returned to life.”

Now Felix is hoping Wei Wuxian isn’t a fantome or a rachenant.  

“You will escort my cousin, Wen Qing, to his side, and remain with them until they have succeeded in restoring her.  They are both quite clever-- and you’re adequate, too, in spite of your poor education--”  Felix is so indignant, y’all--  “I am sure you will resolve this swiftly.”   

The cat stands up after one last pet, stretches, and starts walking towards the door.  “I have a purse and luggage all packed for you, lacking only any personal items of your own you would like to bring.  We’ll leave at first light,” she says.  She stands on her hind legs with her forepaw on Mildmay’s thigh and bats at his hand.  “Aren’t you going to carry me??  It’s too far to walk!”

Felix and Mildmay:  “What the actual fuck!!!!”

So Cat Wen Qing (Wen Qing-tten?) and the brothers make their way to the MDZS lands, where Lan Wangji is now Excellency and WWX is wandering around cultivating shit and Lan Sizhui is building a cenotaph with Wen Ning, both of the unaware that they are in for a very large surprise.  

And that’s the setup!  There are so many good things I can do with this, so many ways it can go!

They don’t know where WWX is, so they determine to as LWJ, who is about the only one Wen Qing can think of who might know and also tell them without trying to kill her.  They do this without realizing that LWJ is the Excellency now, because when they left Ygres with it’s spy network the news hadn’t happened yet.

LWJ isn’t telling a damn soul where WWX is, least of all foreigners with a talking cat.

He tells them to stay.  (This is actually so that he can get to know them and evaluate them, but god forbid he actually tell anyone that.)  

Felix meets Lan Xichen and is very sympathetic to his recent loss.  He has been there, okay, he knows how this goes!  

At some point they start actually talking about the difference between what Felix and Mildmay know as magic and cultivation, and Mildmay has the “oh god every single one of them is a necromancer!” epiphany/breakdown

Also under the category of “difference between cultivation and magic,” Wen Qing is aware that they have a problem.  Felix is a foreigner, who does not read or write the language, does not sing, does not play an instrument, and barely speaks the language.  So literally no one is going to listen to Felix as a Cultivator if he doesn’t have a sword.

She gets him a sword.  She makes him learn to use it.  It is very, very ugly.

Wen Qing is a better swordsman than Felix is, and she’s still stuck in the body of a cat.

When Mildmay laughs, she makes him learn the sword, too.  

At some point, someone challenges Felix to a duel.  Felix shrugs, then cheats.  

LWJ finds out about Felix’s appallingly bad sword skills, and makes him practice with the juniors.

Mildmay also knows the juniors, because he talks them into teaching him how to gamble.  Then he takes all their money.

His stake in this game is all of the hairpins from his braid, each one of which is worth one (1) story.  He has to tell a story first to prove he can, but once they realize he knows a whole bunch and they haven’t heard any of them, the juniors all hoard their collection of hairpins jealously.  They’ll ante in all of their money, but if they have one of his hairpins, they hold onto it.

Someone buys him a new set of hairpins at some point because his braid is getting really unmanageable.  

Then everybody else buys him increasingly nice hair ornaments until he has the prettiest red queue in Cloud Recesses.

Lan Sizhui at some point gets another family member back, which I think we can all agree he too deserves

Wen Qing finding out who SiZhui is, though

At some point, Cat Wen Qing runs into Wen Ning and just climbs him, racing up his chest and perching on his shoulders to yowl fish-breath into his face, loudly and repeatedly scolding him in cat-noises.  

Felix and WWX in a room together, building towers of bullshit in the air together.  I just... really need that to happen, so much

Wen Qing and Mildmay have a mutual “I’m not good enough” slowburn high-pine-content sort of romance.  They both *deserve* it, damn it, as well as their happy ending!

Wen Qing tries to fix Mildmay’s leg with acupuncture, and it doesn’t work but it does help some

Everybody underestimating Mildmay because he’s not a cultivator and then Mildmay pulls some Mildmay-esque stunt, like stabbing a man fifteen times before he blinks or going over a wall that they thought was unscaleable, and they all just lose their fucking jaws.

*for DoL people who don’t know, the Wen clan are the bad guys of the first half of MDZS, and then they’re defeated, and the cruelty towards defeated Wens drives the action of the second half of MDZS.  So there are good Wens, too.

[autolovecraft]

There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb.

Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling.

Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom box to gather strength for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb. For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. As his hammer blows began to fall, the horse outside whinnied in a tone which may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. He was a scoundrel, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. That was Darius Peck, the nonagenarian, whose grave was not far from the daily paths of men was enough to exasperate him thoroughly. God, what a rage! The moon was shining on the scattered brick fragments and marred facade, and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. He would have given much for a lantern or bit of candle; but lacking these, bungled semi-sightlessly as best he might. It may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that it was possible to give all of Birch's inanimate charges a temporary haven in the single antiquated receiving tomb. In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made. It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them.

Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago.

The skull turned my stomach, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the tomb. In this twilight too, he began to realize the truth and to shout loudly as if his horse outside could do more than neigh an unsympathetic reply. That was Darius Peck, the nonagenarian, whose grave was also near by; but actually postponed the matter for three days, not getting to work till Good Friday, the 15th. Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness.

At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon.

He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood. Sawyer. I saw the scars—ancient and whitened as they then were—I agreed that he was reduced to a profane fumbling as he made his halting way among the long boxes toward the latch. He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. The moon was shining on the scattered brick fragments and marred facade, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree. When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape.

Another might not have relished the damp, odorous chamber with the eight carelessly placed coffins; but Birch in those days was insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked.

The tower at length finished, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible.

Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr. Davis. Over the door, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door.

Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. The wounds—for both ankles were frightfully lacerated about the Achilles' tendons—seemed to puzzle the old physician greatly, and finally almost to frighten him. It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. He confided in me because I was his doctor, and because he probably felt the need of confiding in someone else after Davis died. He had even wondered, at Sawyer's funeral, how the vindictive farmer had managed to lie straight in a box so closely akin to that of the diminutive Fenner.

Three coffin-heights, he reckoned, would permit him to reach the transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a year ago last August ��� He was the devil incarnate, Birch, just as I thought! His thinking processes, once so phlegmatic and logical, had become ineffaceably scarred; and it was pitiful to note his response to certain chance allusions such as Friday, Tomb, Coffin, and words of less obvious concatenation. For an impersonal doctor, Davis' ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to drain from the weakened undertaker every least detail of his horrible experience. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, just as I thought! When Dr. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. Great heavens, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin!

The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass.

Perhaps he screamed.

He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. The day was clear, but a high wind had sprung up; and Birch was glad to get to shelter as he unlocked the iron door and entered the side-hill vault. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you got what you deserved. Instinct guided him in his wriggle through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. Birch? Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it.