#i did skip a couple sections since not everybody had an interesting response

[silver-rosetta]

Fuck it we ball.

FFXIV: Tsubaki (Aura Raen, she/her), Reese (Viera, he/they)

Runestone: Bryne (dragon, he/him), Leben (he/him), Ivy (she/her), Karasi (she/her)

✨ Names

- Tsubaki Ibara: Messed with the game's random generator for a bit. Found her last name first, then rolled until I liked the first name.

- Reese Thornberry: Fought tooth and nail not to call them Reese Witherspoon. Thornberry sounded cute and woodsy.

- Bryne: I was in middle school when Bryne happened, same as the other Runestone OCs. Bryne was meant to be a quirky spelling of 'Burn,' but was quickly replaced phonetically with 'Brin'

- Leben: Found his name in an ancient baby name book my parents gave to me. Book said it means 'Life', which seemed fitting for a character that started out as a nature warden. He's a healer now, and internal leader of the Runesquad, so it still fits.

- Ivy: Original design I adopted had a squiggle on her leg that looked like a plant vine. It's one of those that isn't 100% representative of the character today, but changing it feels weird. Maybe someday...?

- Kara: Originally "Trixie," changed bc it no longer felt fitting with the setting. Trixie, the middle school cat-phase oc, now exists as a separate entity.

💚 LGBTQ+ Identity

- Tsubaki: Grace, female (she/her)

- Reese: Pan, nonbinary (he/they)

- Bryne: Gay, cis or demimasculine (he/him)

- Leben: Bi, transmasc (he/him)

- Ivy: Questioning, Cis

- Kara: Lesbian, genderqueer

🌼 How Old?

- Tsubaki: 17-21 (from ARR -> Dawntrail)

For fun; she turns 18 early Heavensward (mere days after the banquet), 19 mid Stormblood, 20 towards Endwalker finale. Takes a year-long sabbatical before Wuk Lamat appears for Dawntrail.

- Reese: ~24; their story is less defined than Baki's, so I don't have a clear timeline for them.

- The Runesquad are all early 20s, with Bryne being the oldest and Ivy the youngest.

🌺 Love interests?

- Dating!: Bryne x Leben

- Yes, but hasn't confessed: Reese

- In the past, but not currently: Tsubaki, Ivy, Kara

- Exes who will kick each others' butts: Leben x Ivy

🍕Fav food?

- Tsubaki: Is everything an answer? Homegirl lived most her life in Sharlayan, her mind was blown the first time she ordered a meal abroad. She's particularly taken with Doman cuisine (reminds her of her mom's cooking, plus the variety!) and the curries from Radz. Has zero spice tolerance though, she nearly died in the EW post patches.

- Kara: Used to adore cookies as Trixie. This probably hasn't changed. Girl's hella sporty, she needs her carbs!

💼 Their jobs?

- Tsubaki: An adventurer, through and through! She's considering taking some extra time to get her Archon's mark. Or maybe she'll become a Gleaner? Perhaps? Probably not Wuk Lamat's advisor, as kind as the offer is. I don't think she can bear to serve in any political capacity post-Crystal Braves. That was always Alphinaud's thing.

- Reese: A proud member of the Rogue's guild in Limsa, though they've also been chosen as the successor of A-Towa-Cant. They have a complicated relationship to their white magics, despite being on par with the padjal siblings.

- Bryne: A musician with a day job working retail. At least before they became a Chosen One. Then he's a musician with a day job saving the world.

- Leben: Chosen One, will probably become a nurse or social worker in the epilogue.

- Ivy: Worked retail before being chosen, will likely continue studying the magical arts or enter politics in the epilogue.

- Karasi: College athlete + student, desperately trying to balance hero training with her gymnastics meets. I'm not sure what her epilogue holds.

🎹+🎯+🥊 Skills + hobbies

- Tsubaki: Spellcasting (Summoning, Pictomancy, Red Magic, Conjury), Archery, Performance (Bard + Dancer). Keen eyed, strong observation skills and attention to detail. Keeps a collection of journals with detailed notes of her discoveries throughout the game (from Ifrit to The First and Ultima Thule.)

- Reese: High charisma, just as comfortable sneaking in the shadows as in plain sight. Talented conjurer and White Mage. For how violent their line of work is, they have always excelled at taking care of other people. He is also an archer and Red Mage, and has crossed paths with Tsubaki as peers.

- Bryne: Good-humored and level-headed. Able to stay calm under duress, and take charge in scary situations. Bard, knowledgeable about music theory and local legends. Plays the violin, fiddle, and guitar.

- Leben: Intelligent, strong combatant who is adept at strategy and team management. Knowledgeable about the responsibilities and the history that comes with being "chosen." Eventually an unparalleled healer, but it takes some character development to get there.

- Ivy: Sociable and friendly, the face of the group when some cheer is needed. She took dance classes as a kid, I'm undecided if she still practices or if it's something she had to put behind her (possible chronic pain 😔). Can reliably cast 9th Level Fireball.

- Karasi: Gymnast and track star, she's easily the most active member of the group. Enjoys freerunning parkour, and finding hard-to-reach spots to hang out at. An artist specializing in wall art and graffiti.

🧊Are these their first designs?

- In short, no! Everybody's changed at some point, in some cases quite dramatocally.

- Tsubaki changed her hair color from blonde to orange pretty early. Though she changes haircuts often, her original haircut is too short and doesn't suit her. I often forget the ponytail wasn't what she actually started with.

- Reese went through ARR with the wrong face! I meant to use the one with cheek tattoos (face 2 i think?), but I ended up using... not that, accidentally. Currently my only WoL to use a fantasia.

- Bryne has probably been the most consistent, only losing a crook in his right horn and gaining a pair of ears. Next art reference will be the first time I include prosthetic wings, now that I've done my research.

- The rest of the runesquad started out as draw-to-adopt cats. They have broadly left those designs behind in favor of being human. Everyone, including Bryne, started getting human forms around the same time, but it took many years for me to figure out their designs.

- Leben has fluctuated between being a deerboy, a shapeshifter, and just a guy since then. I'm considering bringing back the deer ears and antlers.

- The adoptable that became Ivy wore a necklace that eventually inspired the Runestones.

☘️ What originally inspired the OC?

- Tsubaki: a joke that my friends' wols matched three of the power rangers (red, blue, green), and were missing yellow. I took this too seriously, and produced a girl that is orange.

- Reese: Gender™️

- Bryne: An attempt at using scratch dot mit to animate something. It was not good, but I grew fond of the dragon I created for it.

The rest of the Runestone characters started as adoptables, but beyond that...

- Leben: I wanted a nature character with strong healing powers. He's the only character who technically predated his adoptable, because his original design was Not Good. He became besties with Bryne, as my two oldest OCs on that account.

- Ivy: Her original personality came from Lenka's Everything at Once, which was a song on her contest project. She was a walking contradiction back then, desperate to stand apart from her many siblings. Over time, she gradually mellowed out into her current cheerful self, and took more inspiration from Light Academia aesthetics.

- Karasi: A fun adoptable design. Though she's a part of the original Scratch unit, I have always struggled to nail down her personality.

🌂 What genre do they belong in?

- Tsubaki: Coming of age + Murder mystery/ thriller. Heathers, basically.

- Reese: Noir spy film

- Bryne: Broadway musical, or a Mythology and urban legend podcast

- Leben: Spiritually an early 2010s Superhero film, but actually trapped in a sitcom.

- Ivy: YA Fantasy film (ie. Percy Jackson, The Sorcerer's Apprentice)

- Kara: Heist movie, or one of those Coming of age sports films.

🧠 What do you like most about your oc?

- Tsubaki: Her story came about so organically! I started with the idea that she's a former student of Sharlayan during the Alexanders, and managed to build out her character arc from there. I don't think I ever had to retcon anything for her, aside from rewriting portions of the MSQ to line up with her delayed DRK leveling.

- Reese: Reese was created to be a character who has So Much Gender for me, and by golly did I give them gender. Their story is basically me figuring shit out as somebody who struggles with eir gender identity and presentation. It's comforting to have an avatar who's likewise fluid and a bit of a mess.

- Bryne: My blorboooo Bryne is 100% my comfort character. He's like me in a lot of ways, not quite a self-insert but definitely possessing a lot of the same contradictions. He's my muse when I need some comfort or something silly.

- Leben: Conversely to Bryne, Leben's my emotional punching bag. Comes with the territory of being one of the OGs, I suppose. But the character arc that he goes through from it is what really makes Leb appealing to me. He gets repeatedly humbled by the narrative, and he eventually learns to be a kinder and more genuine person for it.

- Ivy: Another story favorite! Other ocs may have similar themes (especially in IGO, which would be its own post), but none of them approach it quite the same way she does.

- Kara: She's always been one of the best-looking characters in the lineup, 10/10 super fun to draw.

💎 Do you ever see yourself killing off your oc?

:)

🍩 Who is your OCs arch nemesis or rival?

- Tsubaki: Public Speaking

- Reese: Figuring his shit out

- Bryne: Chosen One Respnsibilities

- Leben: Bryne. Also probably his dad.

- Ivy: Casting anything besides 9th level fireball-

- Kara: Having a character arc

🎓🍥 How long have you had these characters?

Taubaki and Reese are about a year old, a bit after I began playing ffxiv. The Runestone characters are almost twelve now!

That makes me ~21 for the creation of the wols, and ~11 or 12 for the Runesquad.

Ask Game for someone’s OC(s)

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

💼 - What do they do for a living?

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

🎯 -What do they do best?

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

[skeezsbbygirl]

dive + bang chan

hello lovelies! \ (•◡•) / im sorry it took so long for me to post another scenario since i had to deal with school stuff :/ this is for anon who requested for a crush!chan, i hope you enjoy!!

REQUEST BOX IS CLOSED. 

"-and that's why I'm never skipping training."

You could faintly hear Felix's rant in the background -- something about having to train harder and longer during the week in payment of skipping three days worth of swim practice. But your mind was too preoccupied with the sight you were met with as soon as you entered the university's swim center, and no, you weren't gawking at the intricate details -- which probably cost a fortune -- that embellished the swimming grounds, it was more of a someone who caught your attention.

"They're here!" Jisung cheered from the farther edge of the olympic-size pool. "Lix!" Chris called out for the boy beside you, who was still cursing the older male under his breath and possibly in his head too, as you could just imagine him mentally listing off ways to push the black-haired male into the pool, judging by the look on your best friend's face.

"He can swim, you idiot," you deadpanned which caused Felix to stop in his tracks, staring at you in shock. "How did you even?" he asked, voice softening as his eyebrows contorted in confusion. Instead of giving him an answer, you lightly smacked his right arm, earning a yelp from the male. "Don't even think about it," you playfully scolded him.

"Today was arm day," he complained as he rubbed the spot where your hand met his flesh a few seconds ago. "I'm sorry, but you knew you had that one coming," you replied. "Are you psychic or something?" Felix questioned, his attention still on you with his hand still rubbing the same spot.

You just rolled your eyes at him as you neared Felix's teammates, sitting beside Jeongin and Seungmin, who immediately made room for you the moment Jisung acknowledged -- well practically announced -- your presence as you stepped foot inside the swim center. You were met with a chorus of various greetings, to which you smiled and waved in return. "Hey, you haven't been visiting us for a while," Seungmin noted and the other boys agreed. And in that moment, you quickly tried to rack your brain with a plausible excuse. "I'm a med student and finals are coming up, what do you expect?" you joked.

"I think Chan-hyung can help. He has a lot of spare time nowadays," Hyunjin offered, shooting a knowing look towards your direction. You almost choked on your saliva, but you managed to regain your composure and shrug off Hyunjin's attempt to embarass you infront of the whole team, especially infront a certain someone.

"Yeah, (y/n). I took some of the courses that you have now," Chris agreed, totally oblivious to what the younger male was hinting at, which made you breathe a sigh of relief. "I might have to take your offer," you paused as you shifted your gaze towards Felix and his run away accomplices, "But it seems like you have your hands full."

Everybody, except for Chris, Minho, and Seungmin, groaned in annoyance. "You didn't have to remind him," Changbin whined.

Chris chuckled at the younger one's response. "They got an earful from coach this morning. He’ll be supervising them during training, which means I have some time to kill."

"I'll let you know," you flashed him a small smile, biting the insides of your cheek in your attempt to suppress a full grin.

At this point, Hyunjin could've just blurted out that you had been catching feelings for their team's captain.

Chris, better known as Chan to his teammates, was the swim team's captain. He was quite popular alongside his teammates as he broke records, did well in his academic endeavors, and practically looks like a living embodiment of a god -- so needless to say, he attracts a lot of attention.

A year ago, you didn't think that you'd actually have a chance at being in the same circle of friends, but with Felix being your best friend and making it on the team, you were immediately welcomed into their group. You got to know more about them, way past those senseless rumors thrown around the campus. A few months into hanging out with them, you guys looked out for each other like family, but you saw Chris in a different light. He might have dropped hints here and there, but you weren't really sure if he was being playful or serious.

Sure, he'd ask you to hang out with him once in a while and he treats you sweetly. But, maybe he was being friendly? Or worse, maybe he just saw you like a little sister?

However, the both of you had gotten even closer over the past few weeks, since Chris has been teaching you how to swim. You took up his offer in order to skip your swimming classes next semester, but this would only be possible if a member from the team taught you the course and gave you a pass. It was a win-win situation, you lessen your load next semester and you get to spend more time with Chris.

"Alright boys, let's do some laps," Chris commanded, making his teammates sigh in defeat, following his orders nonetheless. "You sure you're okay here, (y/n)?" Chris asked you as he got up from his seat. You nodded, "Yeah, don't worry."

Two hours passed and the boys were finally done, all showered and ready to head home. "Bub, let's go. I'll walk you to your dorm," Felix spoke as he approached you, grabbing your bag for you and helping you up from your seat with his free hand. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," Felix turned towards his teammates. "Bye guys," you smiled and waved, the guys happily returned your gesture and told you to head home safely.

"I'll let you know," Felix mocked you in his best impression of your voice as soon as you guys exited the building, referring to your interaction with Chris a couple of hours ago. "I do not sound like that," you gasped, faking an offended expression. Felix laughed and continued his comical representation of you. "But seriously, ask him out already, " he said, assertion evident in his tone. "If it were that easy, we'd be dating for three months now," you argued. "It is that easy. I'm pretty sure hyung likes you back," Felix insisted, still set on convincing you to confess.

"Alright, I'll think about it, okay?"

[Two days later...]

The library was less congested during the early hours and considering that it was a Sunday, most students are out cold -- either passed out in their bed due to lack of sleep within the whole week or passed out due to a hangover. You settled for a seat at the second floor, near the computer section, making it easier for you to access the printers in case you needed to print out reviewers that you missed. Once you got your stuff laid out, you started your task.

A few hours into your self-proclaimed study session, a hand gently placed a drink on your desk, causing you to look up at the owner.

"Chris."

You greeted him with a smile as you gestured for him to take a seat beside you. "I figured you'd be here," he said, a light chuckle erupting from his lips. He carefully slid the takeout coffee cup closer to you. "Chai tea, it's good for you," he claimed. You muttered a 'thank you' and sipped the warm drink, which instantly spread throughout your body, allowing you to relax and ease some of the tension that was collectively gathering on your shoulders.

"Training?" you asked as you noted Chris' attire, the team's signature sweater, black shorts, and black vans. "Yeah, I'm heading out in twenty minutes," he replied and you nodded. "But I decided to stop by and check to see if you were here, and maybe ask you to hang out later," he added and quickly averted your gaze as a sheepish smile formed on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m down,” you agreed, taking another sip of the drink that was in your possession, suddenly finding the cup interesting -- your attempt to conceal the blush that dusted your cheeks. 

Chris cleared his throat and stood up. “Cool, well I should get going before the boys accuse me of being late,” he said. A soft laugh escaped your lips, knowing full well that the boys would try anything to evade their punishment and pin it on their captain. “I’ll see you later,” you replied, flashing him a smile as he did the same and went on his way.

A couple of hours later, you decided to conclude your study session and head back to your dorm. As soon as you stepped out from the building, a message notification from your phone stopped you in your tracks.

[Chris]: 7 pm at the swim center, bring a change of clothes

[You]: another swimming lesson??

[Chris]: you’ll see ;) i’ll pick you up, beautiful.

[You]: alright, see you later :)

[Chris]: later, bub

You smiled at your phone. This is what you mean by Chris’ actions hinting at something that crossed the line of being a good friend. Sure, Felix -- even Hyunjin and Jisung -- calls you a nickname every once in a while, but with Chris, it comes off different, it feels different. You feel butterflies in your stomach every time he graces you with a sweet gesture. 

But you try to push those feelings and fantasies away, not wanting to expect anything from him and end up getting disappointed, or maybe end up hating him for not reciprocating your feelings. After all, Chris is a nice guy, you’re pretty sure he’s just looking out for you as a friend, plus he probably just wanted to get your swimming course done and over with.

The time he had set for you both to meet quickly rolled by as you were now walking alongside Chris, your bag hung from his shoulders as he insisted on carrying it for you when he came and picked you up from your dorm.

“Go change, I’ll wait here,” Chris said, handing you your things and walking off towards the bleachers where his gym bag was settled. 

Soon, Chris was leading you towards the pool, taking off his shirt before jumping into the water. He extended a hand for you to take and you easily complied, feeling his grip tighten as you sit at the edge of the pool, carefully easing yourself into the water.

As you landed, you came face to face with Chris. You averted your gaze from him and cleared your throat.

“Today’s the last day of your course, by the way,” Chris spoke, your hand still within his hold. “Really? Already?” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “Yeah, so do your best,” he answered.

You nodded earnestly, wanting to make him proud in a way and of course, getting to get a free pass for your swimming class next semester. 

Chris went over the whole course that night, asking you every now and then if you had anything that you wanted to clarify. He showed you various techniques and tips on how to swim better in order to prevent yourself from getting injured. 

“Your posture on that last lap was better,” Chris complimented as you demonstrated the last pointer he gave you. “Thank you, captain,” you teased, which earned you a laugh from the male. 

You eased yourself up on the side of the pool, with your legs still in contact with the water. “Chris, thank you for doing this,” you beamed and as you spoke, Chris approached you, his hands coming up to your knees as he settled himself between your legs. Your eyes widened at his sudden movement, not sure where your hands should go so you opted to place them at your sides.

“Anything for my favorite girl,” Chris answered.

You stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond. What was he up to?

“Chris, stop joking around,” you replied as you lightly hit his arm in a joking manner. And as you did, Chris caught your hand and placed it on his shoulder, repeating the same motion on your other hand. He moved closer, his face now inches away from yours.

“I’m serious, (y/n),” Chris stated as he snaked his arms around your waist. “You know I didn’t just sign up for this in order to help you. I did this because I wanted to get to know you better, I wanted to be close to you, I wanted your attention,” he added, his brown orbs staring intently at yours -- desperately trying to convince you that he was dead serious. He wouldn’t play with your feelings like that, no way.

“You had my attention since day one, dummy,” you breathed out. “I like you a lot, Chris.”

Upon hearing your confession, Chris broke into a cheesy grin. The tip of his ears turning red as he giggled from embarrassment. “I like you a lot too, (y/n),” he responded, leaning an inch closer to rest his forehead on yours. He stared down at your lips, making your breath hitch.

“Can I?”

You nodded and he then closed the gap between the two of you. You could feel your senses going into overdrive as he kissed you, softly at first, and then with a shift of intensity that evoked new sensations you never thought existed or at least, those that you never thought you would be capable of feeling.

You pulled away first. Chris’ eyes were hazy, his facial expression mirroring yours as you looked at him with such affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he planted a peck on your forehead. “Well, you’re ethereal,” you replied, making Chris chuckle. He leaned in for another kiss, but you turned away, making him kiss your cheek instead. Chris looked at you in confusion.

“I would really like to kiss you again, but I’m getting cold,” you giggled. “Right, of course,” Chris agreed as he pulled away from your embrace, easing himself out of the pool and coming to your aid as he stood you up.

After an hour or so, the both of you finally exited the center with your hands in his. You shuddered as the night breeze grazed your skin. Chris noticed and stopped you in your tracks. He gently dropped your bags on the ground as he pulled a black hoodie from his bag.

“Arms up, babygirl,” he ordered, sliding the said article of clothing over your head and letting it fall onto your frame. “Better?” he asked while he fixed your hair, tugging some of the strands that were caught within the fabric. “Yeah, thanks,” you replied, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“So, do I get a pass on the course?” you questioned as the both of you continued your walk towards your dorm. Chris hummed in thought, “Under one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising one eyebrow at him. “You say yes to being my girlfriend,” he answered, making you blush. “I thought the answer was already obvious,” you stated. “I wanted to hear it from you, though,” Chris insisted.

“Yes, Chris. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“What was that?”

“I said yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“I can’t hear you, (y/n).”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and walked ahead, leaving him a few feet behind you. 

“Babyyyy,” Chris called for you, kissing your cheek as he caught up with your pace. “I was just kidding,” he cooed. “And since you’re my girl, you have to be present in all of my swim meets from now on,” he added. “First row seat?” you asked to which Chris nodded in response. “Finally!” you cheered as Chris beamed at your reaction.

“You excited to see me up close?” he asked, a cocky grin forming on his lips, certain that you would agree, but you decided otherwise.

“No. I’ve always wanted to see Hyunjin up close,” you deadpanned and Chris’ grin fell, only to be replaced with a small pout. You bit your bottom lip in order to suppress the smile that was tugging on your lips. You eventually gave in when you heard Chris’ reply.

“It’s the way he throws his hair back, huh?”

You let out a laugh. “You see right through me,” you gasped, placing a hand on your chest as you faked a shocked expression. Chris gave you a look which halted your comical antics. “Alright, I’ll stop,” you said.

“My eyes will only be on you, I promise,” you assured, tugging at Chris’ sleeve in order to make him lean down, grabbing the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips as he complied with your gesture. “It better be,” he replied and pulled you closer to him.

[The next day...]

“Nice hoodie, (y/n),” Jisung noted as you approached their table at the cafeteria with Chris by your side, who was holding two trays of food. The boys immediately looked up and cheered upon hearing Jisung’s teasing. “Fucking finally,” Felix exclaimed, “I thought I’d have to lock you guys up and force you to confess to each other,” he added dramatically which earned him a chorus of laughter from the others.

“Shut up, Lix,” you whined, but you couldn’t resist a smile as you saw their reactions.

As you and Chris sat down, he gently pushed one of the trays towards you, asking you if you needed anything else. You shook your head and muttered a small ‘thank you’.

“Hyung, I need more water,” Changbin fake whined, batting his eyelashes at the older male. “Go get your own,” Chris replied, not even sparing the younger lad a glance. The boys laughed hysterically, dragging out their amusement for as long as they could. 

Soon enough, the laughter died down as you guys engaged in conversation, only to be interrupted by Seungmin who reminded everyone of the time.

“I’ll see you later, then?” Chris asked as the others took care of clearing the table. You nodded and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You missed, baby,” Chris joked, earning him a light slap on his arm. He faked a hurt expression, hissing in pain to add into his dramatic act.

“Now, I’m injured. Looks like I have to skip training,” Chris lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, intertwining his arm with yours and pulling you towards the opposite direction where his members were headed. You halted his playful attempt as you pulled away from his grip.

“Chris, no,” you giggled at his actions. “I’ll meet you as soon as my classes are done, okay baby?” you assured as you gave him a kiss on his lips. 

“Fine,” Chris sighed in defeat. 

“Hyung, hurry up!”

“Save your smooching for later and somewhere private!”

The both of you chuckled upon hearing the boys’ hollers. “One more for good luck,” Chris requested as he leaned in and gave you a peck. “Now, go,” you said, pushing him away and watching him jog towards the boys.

[longsightmyth]

Myth Reads the Naming, Chapter 21

PELLINOR

The chapter is called Council of Friends and I for one could use some more friendship is magic stuff in my life, bring it on.

Maerad has a nightmare and a voice speaks in something that is almost the Speech but fucked up. It says, “I am again, but none shall find my dwelling, for I live in every human heart.”

I just wanted friendship, book. You promised me friendship.

She wakes up and reassures herself, and then Hem knocks on her door having also had nightmares. They huddle together and fall back to sleep.

Maerad wakes up to a beautiful morning and Hem, eating bread in a corner. He’s been waiting for her to wake up. She asks how Cadvan is and Hem doesn’t seem to care much (which, fair) but says he’s probably still sleeping and Maerad should hurry up because there is food (I appreciate a lot about this interaction. If I forget to mention it in the comparison please bug me so I can talk about it in a reblog or something). Maerad kicks him out to get dressed and then they walk down to get lunch together.

When they get to the sitting room, Cadvan is awake and chatting with Saliman. Cadvan is the worse for wear still but he’s talking and awake and teasing Maerad a little bit, and Maerad almost cries with how happy she is that he’s alive, black eye and stitched up face cuts and all. He assures her when she asks that he feels great and sends her off to the food.

Appetite sated (Hem comes with her for seconds) the siblings return to Cadvan and Saliman, who are discussing Saliman’s journey. Turns out Saliman was attacked by three hulls and killed them, but not before they killed his horse. He’s pretty sad about it and so am I:  horse death is sad. The horses are just doing their best okay.

Anyway, Nelac comes in while Maerad is looking out at the gardens and says that most of his flowers survived the storm. Maerad immediately likes him, not least because he fixed up Cadvan and reminds her of Cadvan.

Hem continues to eat as the adult bards convene and catch each other up on everything, and when they get to the part about the Kulag Cadvan admits he was in a hurry and not as careful as he should have been with magic or travel. He credits Maerad with getting them all out alive.

“I wondered…,” said Maerad, and then stopped.

“What, O my Deliverer?” said Cadvan.

Maerad blushed again at his teasing. “I wondered if the Landrost had hurt you, and that was why…” she faltered and stopped again.

“The Landrost did indeed hurt me,” said Cadvan. “And I was less in my power than I could be. But that is no excuse for rushed decisions and the mistakes that come with them. I judge myself at fault, and so I am; and it is a severe judgment, Maerad, because things very nearly were otherwise, and the result would have been terrible for many more than us.”

Maerad saw for an instant an implacable harshness in Cadvan’s face, and she shivered; she thought she would not like to be judged by Cadvan, had she done any real wrong.

They continue to catch up, and Nelac remembers hearing about the Treesong somewhere but he’ll have to look for it again, but Saliman Knows What’s Up and sings a verse from the poem at the beginning of chapter 17, which I will transcribe here so nobody has to search the hellscape that is my tumblr tags:

Grows a Lily on the Briar

Grows a Briar on the Wave

Triple-tongued its voice of Fire

Edil-Amarandh with save

True and false the cunning Flame

Burning in the darkest Night

False and true the secret Name

Quickened in the womb of Light

Where the Briar on the Foam?

Doth the Lily stemless stand?

Who will bring the Singing home?

Where the Harp? And whose the Hand?

Nelac is like ‘lol it almost sounds like you’re saying Maerad, who can speak common, Elidhu, and the Speech, is the Foretold’

Cadvan’s ACTUAL (specified as distracted and absent) RESPONSE: “Yes, yes, of course I am.”

Maybe warn a guy before you drop prophetic bombs in his lap, Cadvan.

Nelac thinks about it a minute and sorta soul searches Maerad with eye contact is like ‘okay fine you may have a point’. Also the Treesong is a super ancient song, he remembers.

Nelac ALSO wants to scry Hem. Hem is not having it rn and runs into the garde. Maerad chastises Nelac with all the vehemence of a sibling vs outsiders and heads after her brother. After assuring Hem that SHE believes him, obviously, and that Cadvan does, he agrees to come back inside, where Nelac straight up bribes him with food to be scried later. Hem is like ‘well if there’s FOOD’ and agrees, which, fair.

Further, Nelac says they have to figure out where Hem can go to bard school because Norloch is being Particularly Racist at the moment and Hem, unlike Maerad, looks very Pilanel. Cadvan says irritably that Hem would like other schools better anyway, fuck Norloch (okay not in quite those words but it’s close).

Saliman: hey no worries I’ll take the kid home with me where racist dickheads aren’t in charge. Sound good, Hem?

Hem: Boy does it!

Section paraphrased for clarity.

Also, Nelac adds, y’all haven’t been here in a while so let me tell you what else Enkir has fucked up: no more lady bards can train at Norloch.

The fuck, everyone in the room basically mouths in unison.

Nelac: so the flaw in our system is, if all of our elected officials are old white rich white dudes with The Right Families then it turns out they elect an old rich white dude with The Right Family as leader, which means even the relatively benevolent old rich white dudes get outvoted when it comes to civil rights and not destroying the world because these guys have no concept of doing anything for other people even in the name of self interest.

Not that we know anything about that in the States or anything.

Everybody agrees that a council must be called regarding world saving because they still labor under the delusion that old rich white dudes with The Right Families in power give a shit what happens to the world if it doesn’t affect them in the next five minutes. The poor saps.

Cadvan shows Maerad around Norloch and assures her once again that even if she isn’t the foretold it’s no biggie, he’ll take her to a good bard school.

“Would you stay there?” she asked, knowing the answer already.

He glanced at her quickly, his face unreadable. “For a time, until you were settled in,” he said.

When they get back, Hem wants Maerad there while he’s scried. Nelac says it’s unusual, but so is scrying a child so why not. There isn’t much to see since we aren’t in Hem’s PoV, but Nelac confirms that Hem is Maerad’s brother and everybody rejoices. Maerad offers to get them something to drink, does so, and leaves, feeling like she intruded.

At dinner, which Hem actually skips, they make a game plan for presenting Maerad-as-The-Foretold to the council. Nelac is going to do it alone for political reasons. That’s the end of the chapter.

THRONE OF GLASS

Three chapters of ToG is a fitting punishment for taking so long I guess. 46,47,48.

Dorian is hunting through the woods to ‘let the freezing air rush through him’  and burn off steam regarding Celaena, who apparently watches him like a cat watching a mouse, which is different from every single other woman ever, who otherwise look at him adoringly.

Dorian, I would think Kaltain fits that description. I’m just saying.

Apparently Celaena makes him want to be a better king or whatever by watching him and he’ll never be happy with any other woman now that he’s kissed her and he’s worried about her in the duel. Sure.

CELAENA’S POV.

She’s thinking about the duel, worries that Cain might be better because he has stamina (I mean this is a valid concern: Celaena can’t seem to do any sort of strenuous physical activity without throwing up, her stamina IS crap) and then that she might have to obey the King of Adarlan if she’s his Champion.

I’m not sure what you thought you were signing up for, Celaena?

Then she decides she wants to stay in the castle because Hot Dudes, I guess.

NEXT CHAPTER.

Kaltain drugs Celaena’s goblet(?) in the outside duel.

Swap to Celaena’s PoV, where she complains about the cold and thinks that she doesn’t know why they have to have the duels outside. Me neither, Celaena. Me neither.

She recognizes a couple of council members who hired her in the past, and then Nehemia shows up. For reasons?

Anyway, the king makes a speech, the duels start, Cain wins his. Celaena thinks that the other guys hadn’t even lasted three minutes, which, I mean. People generally greatly overestimate how long fights take, especially fights that aren’t specifically hemmed in for competition. Three minutes is a long time to fight one on one for your life?

Oh wait they aren’t fighting to the death. That would be too men for the demon infested king? I don’t know.

Chaol offers Celaena his sword to fight with, and Nehemia offers her Nehemia’s staff instead.

“If I may,” Nehemia said in Eyllwe, “I’d like to offer this to you instead.” The princess held out her beautifully carved iron-tipped staff. Celaena glanced between Chaol’s sword and her friend’s weapon. The sword, obviously, was the wiser choice—and for Chaol to offer his own weapon made her feel strangely lightheaded—but the staff…

Nehemia leaned in to whisper in Celaena’s ear. “Let it be with an Eyllwe weapon that you take them down.” Her voice hitched. “Let wood from the forests of Eyllwe defeat steel from Adarlan. Let the King’s Champion be someone who understands how the innocents suffer.”

So Celaena chooses the staff, which is actually a GREAT weapon vs a sword assuming you know how to use it for a myriad of reasons? Why would a sword be a wiser choice? Why is that obvious? Especially if it’s ‘iron-tipped’ by which I think she means capped, but whatever. We already knew very little research went into this, I’m lucky Celaena isn’t using that soap and hairpin thing.

She’s going to fight Grave. Don’t worry about it, we’ll get an explanation about him in the second book when he suddenly becomes relevant again.

Chaol squeezed her hand, his skin warm in the frigid air. “Give him hell,” he said. Grave entered the ring and drew his sword.

Pulling her hand from Chaol’s, Celaena straightened her spine as she stepped into the ring. She quickly bowed to the king, then to her opponent.

She met Grave’s stare and smiled as she bent her knees, holding the staff in two hands.

You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, little man.

NEXT CHAPTER.

Grave’s first move is to try to break her staff. I. I’m just. Whatever at this point.

His sword gets stuck in her staff when he hits, and she punches him in the nose. He gets angry and charges, “aiming a direct blow to her heart.” She knocks his legs out from underneath him and puts the staff to his throat, which ends the fight I guess, though he doesn’t yield and isn’t injured aside from a broken nose.

She brought her mouth close to his ear. “My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered. “But it makes no difference if my name’s Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I’d still beat you, no matter what you call me.” She smiled at him as she stood. He just stared up at her, his bloody nose leaking down the side of his cheek. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and dropped it on his chest. “You can keep that,” she said before she walked off the veranda.

She intercepted Chaol as soon as she crossed the line of chalk. “How long did that take?” she asked. She found Nehemia beaming at her, and Celaena lifted her staff a little in salute.

“Two minutes.”

She grinned at the captain. She was hardly winded. “Better than Cain’s time.”

How slowly are these people moving? Why are we counting time? What is HAPPENING.

Anyway they have a toast.

“Out of good faith, and honor to the Great Goddess,” Kaltain said in a dramatic voice. Celaena wanted to punch her. “May it be your offering to the Mother who bore us all. Drink, and let Her bless you, and replenish your strength.”

I want that all noted for the record on the religion front.

Celaena is thrown directly into fighting Cain without any more of a rest and does not realize she’s been drugged.

The conqueror of Erilea raised his hands.

“Begin!” he roared, and Celaena shook her head, trying to clear her blurry vision. She steadied herself, wielding the staff like a sword as Cain began circling. Nausea flashed through her as his muscles flexed. For some reason, the world was still hazy. She clenched her teeth, blinking. She’d use his strength against him.

Cain charged faster than she anticipated. She caught his sword on the broad side with the staff, avoiding the sharp edges, and leapt back as she heard the wood groan.

He struck so quickly that she had to concede to the edge of his blade. It sank deep into the staff. Her arms ached from the impact. Before she could recover, Cain yanked his sword from her weapon and surged toward her. She could only bound back, deflecting the blow with the iron tip of the staff.

Given that Celaena is a, an assassin, b, just had a refresher course on poisons, and c, has been poisoned like this at least once before in the prequel novellas, I don’t know what to tell anybody here. Finally she gets it when she hears Kaltain laugh.

She had difficulty holding the staff. Cain came at her, and she had no choice but to meet his blows, barely having the strength to raise the weapon each time. How much bloodbane had they given her? The staff cracked, splintered, and groaned.

Did Nehemia give her a wimpy-ass staff or does Celaena just not know how to use it to deflect rather than just take the full force of a blade? His sword sinks into it, it splinters and cracks? Y’all. No.

She had to end this now, before the hallucinations started. She knew they’d be powerful: seers had once used bloodbane as a drug to view spirits from other worlds. Celaena shot forward with a sweep of the staff. Wood slammed into steel.

The staff snapped in two.

The iron-tipped head soared to the other side of the veranda, leaving Celaena with a piece of useless wood.

Y’all. Y’ALL. You don’t even know how much I’m despairing right now.

Anyway, we go through Dorian and Chaol’s PoVs in quick succession to show that they’re worried about her and are probably in love, because sure, that’s what’s important right now, why not.

Celaena starts seeing creatures from another world as Cain keeps beating her up and Chaol keeps telling her to get up. Apparently the eye of Elena actually was protecting her, because…

Cain reached for her throat, and she flung herself backward. All that he managed to grab was her amulet. With a resounding snap, the Eye of Elena ripped from her neck.

The sunlight disappeared, the bloodbane seizing control of her mind again, and Celaena found herself before an army of the dead. The shadowy figure that was Cain raised his arm, dropping the amulet upon the ground.

They came for her.

That’s the end of the chapter. Thank goodness.

COMPARISON

Say it with me: I despair.

These chapters are pretty different from each other, but I said I wanted to talk about Hem and food and I do.

Both Hem and Maerad have been deprived all their lives, and while Maerad is slightly less preoccupied with filling her stomach than Hem, she also does not in my memory refuse food when it is offered, and only ever delights in the fact that she has it. Hem, obviously, is a little more fixated, but Maerad usually got ENOUGH to eat by virtue of her musical talent and value and the whole superstition thing. Hem rarely did.

Celaena turns her nose up at salmon and complains when chicken is a little bit dry. It’s just not behavior I would expect from someone starved in a salt mine for a year.

Pellinor’s mythology and religion and society remains consistent. ToG’s still rolling with the one goddess lots of little gods thing for now.

I’m just glad that Celaena used an actual weapon (poorly) and didn’t try to get creative. God knows what she would have done with a blade of grass or something. Why are we timing our fights. How was Chaol watching the clock closely enough to know that AND watching the fight. This could all have been solved with some research.

STATS

Pages: 23

Fragments: 36

Em-Dashes: 50

Ellipses: 14

Pages: 22

Fragments: 6

Em-Dashes: 2

Ellipses: 13

[darpok]

Blog Post: On Fan Fiction and Other Storytelling Traditions

When I was twelve or thirteen years old, and even our family finally had DSL internet, I discovered the joys of fan fiction. In case you haven’t been living under the same rock as I have, allow me to explain. “Fan fiction” refers to stories written by enthusiasts of a particular book, TV show, or other creative work. While most “fics” – as my friends and I would call them – take place within the particular universe of the original story, others take known characters and put them in an entirely new setting. (That’s how 50 Shades of Grey was born.) There’s also fan fiction that doesn’t deliberately draw on any work but revolves around real, famous people in imagined situations. (See Graham Norton and Daniel Radcliffe discuss this type on the former’s show.)

The stories that interested me ranged from shorter “one shots” to multi-chapter epics, but most were placed in the Harry Potter universe and nearly all were tales of romance – if you could call it that.

The pairings I read about (and often ‘shipped’ – a verb that comes from the ‘ship’ in ‘relationship’ and means “hoped would bang”) – whether true to canon (i.e. the original books), such as Lily and James Potter, or wildly inventive, such as Hermione and a Tom Riddle to whom she has traveled back in time – usually engaged in the kind of love/hate banter that sends real couples to therapy. The pair would glare at and insult each other (often employing strangely American turns of phrase for a pair of ostensible Brits), their apparent mutual disgust hiding a deeper attraction. For my friends and I, it was riveting stuff.

While I was mainly a Lily/James shipper myself, you can’t talk about Harry Potter fan fiction and not mention Dramione. The fan-invented romance between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger was a tale of forbidden passion, a defiance of Hogwarts housing norms and the mandates of Potter canon itself. Draco did need to be less of a whiny loser to be a deserving match for Hermione, but this could be arranged without too much trouble. In the fan fiction world, Draco was dark and brooding, and he didn’t bring his dad up in conversation quite as often as in the books. Hermione was clever and empathetic, and although she was rarely depicted with less than Yule Ball-level beauty, her looks were not her main characteristic.

Sometimes fan fiction Draco and Hermione fell for each other while at Hogwarts. In other fics, they met again under changed circumstances years after the fall of Voldemort. Then there were the AU fics in which a brilliant young paralegal named Hermione Granger begins work at the firm where successful lawyer Draco Malfoy practices. You get the idea.

Photoshop creations starring Tom Felton and Emma Watson (no credit belongs to me). The purple one in particular has stayed in my memory for years, and brings on a familiar feeling of excitement at all the great content to peruse in the world. It was the banner for a website that allowed fans to nominate and vote for their favorite Dramione fics.

A particularly sexy iteration of the Draco/Hermione story was called Water by kissherdraco. In it, Draco and Hermione are Head Boy and Girl at Hogwarts. Of course, this means that they must live sequestered in their own dormitory, with its own entrance, common room and adjoining bathroom that ensure they see each other in a state of partial undress when the story demands it.

Water was held by many to be the pinnacle of the genre. It had lust and angst in equal measure, executed with a liberal dose of swear words and aggression. Moreover, Water took the common flaws of the Dramione world’s characters and actually explored them, allowing character to drive plot. In the story, Draco is brooding and cruel as ever, but these traits are linked to vicious abuse at the hands of Lucius. This backstory is not seen as an excuse for Draco’s behavior and he is forced to grow and change as the story progresses (although not quite enough, tbh).

I never finished the story, perhaps because my young brain was alarmed by all the hate-sex, but I revisited it with curiosity for this piece. Here is a relatively benign excerpt from the text, although please skip if you’d rather avoid themes of physical dominance:

“You’re crying,” growled Draco, leaning in and flicking his tongue onto her cheek. He tasted salt.

She struggled then, and he brought his hands to her shoulders to hold her still. “Don’t, Granger,” he warned. “I fucking need this. I can’t fucking…” He trailed off.

He never would have noticed before. Not like he did now, at least. Her lips were wet. They were red and moist and magnificently ripened for him. So full of blood. Hot, heated, sullied blood. He couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Other fics situated romance within a larger plot about the politics of the wizarding world. Prelude to Destiny by AnotherDreamer took place in the Marauder era (i.e. the time of Harry’s parents) and focused on the coming-of-age of Lily Evans and her role in the battle against evil. It begins, “Two cultures and a thousand miles from you, there is a castle on a hill…”

Another fave began life under the title Ancient and Most Noble and is now called Druella Black’s Guide to Womanhood. It is about the diverging lives of the three Black sisters — Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa — in the early years of Voldemort’s power. The sisters confront the crumbling of the their easy closeness as they make different choices in a changing world.

”It’ll be a laugh, you’ll see,” Bellatrix whispered into her ear, her breath sweet and thick from wine. They were curled in the cool grass, tangled in the layers upon layers of lace and satin that were their dress robes; it had taken them an hour to get them on right and just ten minutes to unsettle them. Andromeda’s head was spinning: from the liquor, from the heat, from far too much dancing. “It’ll all be just like this,” Bella was murmuring, her lips brushing against her ear. Stars whirled by overhead, maybe close enough to touch. Close enough to try.

“Always just like this.”

—

Andromeda swore as she stepped off the train. From inside the nicely cool travel car, summer had looked so charming, green and bright and gloriously school-free…

I was most interested in these fics, the ones that revolved around the generations before Harry’s. There was something compelling about the knowledge of forthcoming tragedy for many of the characters…Plucked away from the happy ending of the books, these fics became an exploration of why life is meaningful even in its flawed and finite scope.

I look back on my fan fiction experiences as belonging to a beautiful time when the internet was less like Janet from The Good Place* (if Janet were selling everything she knew about us to profit-hungry corporations and belligerent, militarized governments), and more like a library you went to when you felt like checking out a book. Nobody knew what I ate and where I went every minute of the day, because I didn’t put that stuff online, nor did I (to my knowledge) carry a tracking device with me when I went downstairs to play with my friends. At 5 pm, our moms would have to call each friend’s landline to reach us and remind us to stop home for our daily glass of milk or what-have-you.

*Janet is a humanoid presence in the afterlife who holds all knowledge in the universe and can create objects out of the void.

Fan fiction was a commerce-free creative space – devoid of ad revenue and the quick accumulation of likes. Since there was neither money nor social capital to be gained, everyone who participated did so out of pure interest. One did have the hope of raking in reviews from other community members, but these were about more than validation; reviews allowed people to have conversations about a shared passion and often included constructive criticism along with praise. There was little need for bitterness – if a fic was well-written, everybody won, since it meant they got to read it.

Below are some examples from the reviews section of Prelude to Destiny. It’s certainly no Twitter.

Written by rach on chapter #13. (March 28th 2009, 5am) Hey,

So I’ve read your whole story before, and now I’m reading it again, because I saw it spotlighted on the site. And this chapter is amazing. I love the end…I’ve never (well, before I read this the first time) compared Lily to Mrs Crouch. But it’s so true. They both gave their lives for their sons and…this chapter is phenomenal. Just thought I’d let you know

Rach

Written by Smith on chapter #26. (April 29th 2008, 11am)

…If I am to find any fault in the story, then I should say that Remus was rather dull. Not that it was completely out of character, but I imagine him being funnier and also good Lily’s friend. Their friendship is mentioned by Lupin in the third film and, I should think, in the book as well, though I don’t have a copy right now and thus can’t provide a quote. Pity, that. [Given my extensive knowledge of canon, I can tell you that the reviewer is mistaken on this last point.]

Thank you very much for writing this story. Reading it was an enjoyable experience that I might repeat in the future. You’re brilliant, to put it short.

Author Response: Thanks for the review!Yeah, Remus was a bit dull. Actually, I didn’t intend for Lily to be friends with any of the marauders besides James. I just wanted them out of the way. But I know what you mean. After Sirius entered the story, Remus was even duller in comparison. Plus, I wanted to make Peter seem like he fit in, and Remus just fell by the wayside, you know?I’m enjoying writing Gertrude again after taking over a story from my friend who used my characters. Anyway, thanks again!Miranda

For me, too, fandom was a more than a casual hobby. Since I was only allowed an hour of internet use a day, I would spend the time copying and pasting chapter after chapter of fan fiction onto Microsoft Word, allowing me to read all I wanted later. (As you might imagine, Water was not stored on the family computer.) I remember scouring for new fics on fanfiction.net and clicking through page after page of fan art on deviantart.com (both of which retain their early-2000s layouts, unlike Mugglenet or JK Rowling’s official site), very differently from how I scroll through Instagram today. I admired works of fandom the way one appreciates springtime’s first flower, or the décor of a friend’s bedroom – I admired the stamp of individuality they bore and that inspired me to create something myself, to express my joys and sorrows, to be a part of the world.

RIP old websites

When I did put Harry Potter-inspired art out there, somewhere around age fourteen, it was of course in the form of fan fiction, writing being my weapon of choice. I wrote two one-shot pieces, one funny and the other sad — or such were my intentions, though perhaps the results were inverted. While some friends wrote longer stories, I never felt talented or inspired enough to commit, which is a typical self-doubting move of the kind I am trying to leave behind. (I now plan to write no matter how untalented and uninspired I may be.)

One piece was about a character of my own invention, a Slytherin guy with the requisite pure-blood, Dark magic-loving family, and a perky, ponytailed Huffelpuff girl on whom he develops an obsessive crush. It was intended to be a BBC-inspired mockery of the character, taking all the gloomy sexiness of the Dramione universe and making it ridiculous. It was also a thorough exploration of really wanting to make out with somebody sitting in the same classroom as you, not that I’d know anything about that myself.

The other short story was a sincere ode to the books and an exploration of some of their core questions on death and loss. It followed Harry in an imagined scene that takes place (SPOILER ALERT lol) after Dumbledore’s death in the Half-Blood Prince. Harry is climbing the steps to the Owlery with a package in his hand, thinking over his relationship with Dumbledore. As I wrote, I found that I absolutely had to include excerpts from a fairly unexpected source, a chapter in the first and most overlooked of the Harry Potter books. The chapter is “The Mirror of Erised,” whose titular object reveals to the onlooker their deepest desire.

“Professor Dumbledore. Can I ask you something?”

“Obviously, you’ve just done so,” Dumbledore smiled. “You may ask me one more thing, however.”

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks.” Harry stared. “One can never have enough socks,” said Dumbledore. “Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.”

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful.

In my story, Harry gazes out at the Forbidden Forest for a little while, wondering who Dumbledore had been behind the mask of calm wisdom and pondering the burden of those left alive and grieving. Harry then ties the package he’s been holding to Hedwig’s arm and sends her off, chuckling a little through tears. In the last line it is revealed that – OMG – he has just sent off a pair of thick, woolen SOCKS. To DUMBLEDORE. Even though Dumbledore is DEAD. Isn’t that profound?

Two years later, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was released, and to my complete surprise, it delved deep into some of the questions about Dumbledore that had tumbled out of me, stream-of-consciousness-like, in the story I wrote. The text even includes part of the above excerpt from “The Mirror of Erised”. At the outset of Deathly Hallows, Harry learns that Dumbledore’s childhood was a difficult one, the true details of which remain murky and contested by his admirers and critics. Harry regrets never having asked Dumbledore about his past, but recalls that, after all, the one personal question he had asked Dumbledore was not answered honestly…

While writing my story, I had imagined Harry’s pain and longing to know Dumbledore better. Because fan fiction allowed me to externalize my interpretation of the text, the questions in my mind took on concrete form. Their answers, when the next book presented them, became all the more striking and emotionally impactful. It was as though I had written a letter to the series of books that had shaped me and received, in a way, a gentle but meaningful response.

In 2004, JK Rowling released a statement about the phenomenon of fan fiction. She was flattered by fans’ desire to write about her characters, and her only caveats were that fan fiction should remain suitable for children (unfortunately that ship had already sailed, and Water was truly the least of it), as well as a non-commercial activity so that fans’ creative pursuits would remain unexploited. Other authors have not been as accepting, and have asked for fan fiction based on their work to be removed from popular websites. After all, in our current world, a story is classified as property. A sentence, a verse, a character’s name, can belong to someone the same way as the furniture in their house and the dollar figure in their bank account.

In the long history of storytelling, however, ownership is a relatively recent idea. Bear with me while I make an analogy – in pre-industrial Britain, every town had a commons, an area of land where anyone could gather firewood, take their cattle to graze, or hunt and fish to supplement a year of poor harvest. Storytelling has historically functioned as a kind of commons of ideas, one that anyone could pull from when the time came to tell a tale. Want to warn your kid against going near a well? Tell them about the hungry demon that lives in it. Were you hired to entertain a crowd at a wedding? Maybe you dust off an old poem about a prince and princess who meet one evening in the forest but spend years apart, not knowing each others’ true identity until it turns out they were betrothed all along.

Nobody invented well-dwelling monsters or estranged lovers for the first time – they simply existed in a shared cultural space, available when needed (or when it was particularly enjoyable to use them), ready to be shaped into something new and old at the same time. Even today, no one questions the use of familiar tropes in books and movies; we know that all storytelling involves a certain amount of borrowing and repetition, and we deem this acceptable as long as the storyteller has put an adequately original spin on the themes they utilize. The legal line is drawn once you get to the particulars – character names, or sentences and dialogue. These must be brand spanking new if you want to avoid a lawsuit and getting dropped by your publishers. (Does anyone else remember How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life?)

But for thousands of years, people told and re-told stories of beloved and familiar characters, not just unnamed archetypes – characters like Odysseus and Arjuna, Gilgamesh and King Arthur. The Sanskrit Mahabharata (Maha-BHA-rata) an epicly long, genre-defying story from South Asia, especially challenges the idea of a single, canonical text (much like other ancient story traditions from the subcontinent). It was told so many times by so many people that modern-day folks are not always able to agree on what the Mahabharata even is. The story is like a vast ocean — recognizable to all, but appears different depending on where you happen to be standing.

In the 20th century, some scholars collected Mahabharata manuscripts from all over the subcontinent, extracted the most commonly occurring parts to form a text, and detailed the many variations of each verse in footnotes that turned out longer than the text itself. No one can quite agree whether to treat this resulting (multi-volume) “Critical Edition” as the essential Sanskrit Mahabharata tradition, or as some kind of strange, post-colonial Mahabharata scrapbook. All this so that whenever somebody wrote an essay about the story, there was a single text, pieced together as it was, to use as a point of reference. (My Bachelor’s thesis was one of the lesser works of this scholarly genre.)

The plot of the Mahabharata goes like this: The five Pandava brothers, namely the prone-to-gambling leader Yudhishthira, morally-conflicted archer Arjuna, lovable beefcake Bhima, and something-to-do-with-horses twins Nakula and Sachdeva, along with their badass wife Draupadi, are exiled from their kingdom and forced into a year of disguise after a rigged dice game that Yudhishthira loses, and in which Draupadi is stripped and humiliated before a hall full of men. Eventually the Pandavas regain what they lost through a bloody war that leaves both sides devastated and questioning the point of all this conflict. The End.

Does my summary reflect my biases a little bit? For somebody else, the Pandavas might be perfect heroes, Draupadi a whiny ungrateful shrew who won’t stop yelling at them. To me, she is the moral backbone of the Pandavas, unafraid to call for what she feels is right even as everyone around her takes the coward’s way out of trouble.

Interpretations of Draupadi from various traditions

But it’s not just me who has a take on the story: the Mahabharata itself reflects a range of interacting and conflicting views, which might indicate that people from various backgrounds heard it and were able, in some way, to influence it. For example, although the text generally upholds hierarchies of caste and gender, it also pulls at the listener’s heartstrings with stories of characters who must confront these oppressive norms.

There’s Amba, who is stolen from her future-husband at her wedding and rejected by him when she manages to return; she later chooses to be re-born as a man in order to kill her kidnapper in battle. There’s Ekalavya, the talented archer from a forest tribe who trains with the Pandavas in youth and asks to prove his devotion to his archery guru any way he can; the guru, who favors the upper-caste prince Arjuna, asks Ekalavya to cut off his right thumb. There’s Kunti, who finds herself pregnant after an illicit affair with a god and places her baby, Karna, in a river; Karna is adopted by a lower-caste charioteer couple and goes on to fight against Kunti’s legitimate sons in the great battle that destroys the universe. And there’s Satyavati, whose husband/baby daddy pretends not to recognize her in front of his kingly court but gets completely schooled on how not to be an asshole.

“You know very well [who I am], your majesty; why do you say that you don’t, lying like a common man? Your heart knows the truth, and knows your lie. A man who does something wrong thinks, ‘No one knows me,’ but the gods know. If you do not do what I ask, your head will burst into a hundred pieces.” She discoursed at length on the reasons why a man should honor his wife, quoting the dharma texts.

(from The Ring of Truth: And Other Myths of Sex and Jewelry by Wendy Doniger)

Perhaps, among the traveling bards and indulgent grandmas who told the Mahabharata over centuries, there were some who identified or empathized with the pain of oppression and through whom otherwise-marginalized voices could ring out into the millennia.

The many Mahabharatas, along with the many conversations inside the Mahabharata, illustrate how the human imagination is prolific and messy, not content with merely absorbing information but impelled to remake, to take inspiration, to create, create, create. Isn’t that what happens when we read? We see the world we are reading about in our own way. We make up something in our own head as we go along, and that’s where the entertainment lies. The book itself is but a wonderful tool.

Perhaps if I had a right-wing patron who paid me to tell stories, I would tell the Mahabharata a little differently from how I do here, focusing on how the Pandavas were self-made men or how the ethnic minorities they killed were thieving encroachers. Or if I were telling the story to children, I might leave out anything particularly frightening. In the telling of a story, the will and whims of the teller have influence, as do those of the listener (or reader) and the financial benefactor (or publishing house).

What remains inevitable, however, is that rarely is a story told the same way twice. Even in our post-printing press, post-internet world, where stories are replicated identically again and again, we continue to dissect, analyze, and change them, whether it be through everyday conversations, online forums, or the prestige lens of a critic’s review. (A perfect example is the adaptation of works from one medium into another, be it from literature to film or from film to theater.) Sometimes the authors themselves continue to tweak and interpret their work – Virginia Wolf was known to make changes to her books prior to reprinting, and we all know that JK Rowling can’t leave the Potter universe well enough alone (love you Jo!).

For me, fan fiction is a grand storytelling and textual tradition not entirely unlike the Mahabharata. Fan fiction not only illustrates the malleable, generative nature of stories, it also provides a rare space, in our capitalist global economy, for storytelling to be that malleable, generative thing it has always been. It allows for democratic engagement in the storytelling traditions of our time, free from the boxes of profit and ownership. It lets us expand the possibilities of our collective imagination. Importantly, it allows voices from the margins into the story, where our canonical texts routinely fail us.

I’m also thankful to fan fiction for being a rare space, outside overpriced college English classes, where literary discussion can thrive. When I say discussion, I don’t mean mere binary criticism – like book reviews, or the Goodreads star rating-aggregates that help determine book sales. I mean questions about how a text makes you feel, what it reflects or critiques about our world, the things that literary characters, beloved and abhorred, may teach us about our shared humanity and flawed choices. And yes, some of these conversations involve Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy as co-Heads of Hogwarts, using the same bathroom.

Are you a reader or writer of fan fiction? Have you you dabbled in fan art? Or do you engage in a non-online form of fandom, like a book club? Please share!

Thanks for reading.

[rebeccahpedersen]

Another Pre-Construction Condo, Cancelled. Who Is To Blame?

TorontoRealtyBlog

I suppose it’s not fair of me to say “another” as though it were a common occurrence, since only 23 condo projects in Toronto have been cancelled since 2012.

But every time this happens, those who were “burned” cry foul, when all the while, they should have known the risks.

Two of the major Toronto newspapers picked up the story, and as a result, City Councillors are saying “something should be done,” when in fact, nothing ever will be.

Let me explain to you why this is a risk every pre-construction condo buyer takes…

I’m really having trouble understanding the world today.

Every day, it’s more and more complicated, and yet the complication arises through our own doing.

I’m one of “those people” who thinks the world is getting too soft.

Everybody is offended by everything.  Constantly.

I can’t open a newspaper without seeing somebody crying foul about something, and most of the time, it’s seemingly innocuous.

The topic of “entitlement” came up in the comments section of a blog post last week, and a reader called it “the elephant in the room.”  I certainly hope it’s not; I hope it’s something everybody would see, even if I, or other readers, forgot to mention it.

Entitlement is a word that gets thrown around a lot these days.

Privilege is another.

But what about responsibility?

Accountability?

When I was raised, these were traits we aspired to possess.

Remember what it was like in Grade-10 when you handed in an assignment one day late?  You got 10% taken off, on the spot.  Two days late?  20%.  Today, public schools have not only done away with “late marks,” but just about any other responsibility or accountability that an impressionable young boy or girl ought to understand.

One of my family members is a teacher, and she has kids in her classes that get eight.  Like, eight percent.  As in 8% in a class, when 50% is a “passing grade.”

Do those kids fail?

No.

They’re passed, usually at the behest of some socialist guidance counselor or vice-principal, as the “leave no child behind” school of thinking believes that we should teach these children they should skip class all year, do no work, call the teacher names with no repercussion, and then move on to the next grade, rather than learn responsibility and accountability for their actions.

I suppose the “business” of university will start doing the same – passing kids along, so they can get enter the workplace completely unprepared, with no concept of reality.  But in order to accomplish that, the universities would need to take some time away from their busy schedule of creating safe spaces for students who don’t want to debate anything, because there should only usually be one side to any argument.

Entitlement.

Privilege.

Responsibility.

Accountability.

I could go on.  But I feel as though I may have already lost half of you.

I may be a 37-year-old, trapped in an 82-year-old’s body, about to go outside and yell at a cloud for moving too fast while shaking my fist at a young whippersnapper for skateboarding too close to to my prized petunias, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to hold it in.

A few weeks ago, a notable condominium project called “Museum Flts,” was cancelled.

I know what you’re thinking, and yes, the project was cancelled because of financial woes, and yes, we should have known this a long time ago as they clearly couldn’t afford the “a” in “Flats”…

When the project was cancelled, my phone started to ring.

I talked to a half-dozen people, some who had bought into the project and had Googled “pre-construction” and found my blog, and some in the media who thought it was a great story and wanted some background fodder.

And even though I’ve “seen everything” in this industry, I was absolutely shocked to see a complete and utter lack of understanding, and accountability, among those who had bought into the project, and were saddened, disappointed, frustrated, outraged, confused, and financially crippled by its cancellation.

Two of the major Toronto newspapers picked up the story.

Let me provide the links and a couple of excerpts for some context before we move on:

    From Friday’s Financial Post: “Cancellation of 10-storey Toronto Condo Tower Throws Buyers Back Into Pricey Market”

Excerpt:

The cancellation of a ten-storey Toronto condominium development that has thrust would-be owners back into an increasingly competitive condo market has renewed calls for tighter regulations and more protections for buyers of pre-construction projects.

The Museum FLTS condominium cancelled earlier this month is the latest condo project to be shelved. Developer Castlepoint Numa cited lengthy delays in obtaining the necessary approvals, building permits and, in turn, financing, as reasons for the halt.

“Recently, the industry has been experiencing the most significant cost increases in a decade,” the developer said in a post on its website.

Castlepoint Numa is returning deposits to original purchasers and giving them the first opportunity and a discount on the next residential phase of its greater Lower Junction neighbourhood project.

But those promises are cold comfort for Michael Lynn, a 47-year-old musician and university instructor who bought a one-bedroom unit in Museum FLTS 18 months ago. He received a registered letter on his birthday earlier this month, his first inkling that anything was awry.

He was refunded his nearly $60,000 deposit, along with $400 in interest, but does not think he will be able to afford a similar property in the same neighbourhood.

Lynn believes developers should be forced to meet a higher bar before they start selling units and taking deposits.

“At the moment, they can promise the world just to get the buyer in and then, say, ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t do that’.”

    I’ve done enough newspaper interviews over the years to know the game.

You need “colour” for a story to work.

A story about a condominium being cancelled does not work if you don’t have a name, a face, and a quote to go along with it.

And both articles from the National Post and Toronto Star have exactly that!

Here’s an excerpt from the Star article:

    From Saturday’s Toronto Star: “Cancellation Leaves Buyers of Pre-Construction Condos Priced out of Market”

Excerpt:

Kurt Trowbridge, 34, who bought with his partner, Zak Osman, 38, says they, too, have been priced out of the market while the developer held their money for more than a year.

“We’re still in disbelief,” Trowbridge said. “The market has changed so much.”

He said he felt sick about the cancellation. The couple had worked hard to save a deposit. They had shared their happiness with family and friends.

“I felt kind of ashamed telling people we made a bad investment,” he said.

Jason Paris, 43, has been living with family while waiting for his condo but there are others worse off, he said.

“There are couples still living with their parents (that) planned their wedding timed to the condo closing. There is someone who was moving from London, England. There are people who have been impacted more than me, but it still sucks,” Paris said.

At first, he wasn’t too worried because he has a place to live while waiting for another opportunity. Then he realized that new, stricter mortgage rules that are being introduced in January will probably make it tougher to qualify for a more expensive home.

    Here we have people who are willing to go on record, and put their names out there.  I say, good for them.

All too often in today’s society, it’s the anonymous keyboard warriors who shout the loudest, and offer the most vitrol, not to mention act the most cruel.

I respect every single one of these people for going on record, and I understand their plight.

But forgive me when I say this: these people took a risk, and suffered from the wrong end of a risk-reward equation.

The person quoted who said, “I feel like of ashamed telling people we made a bad investment,” I have so much respect for this guy.

But Kurt, don’t be ashamed!

The people you are telling have made far greater mistakes, and far worst investments.  They just might not talk about them.

At least you tried something.  At least you took a risk.  It didn’t pay off, but you took a risk.  How many other buyers out there were frozen; paralyzed with fear, as the media continued to predict a market decline for a decade, who sat on the sidelines and did nothing?

I infamously put $15,000 into Nortel Networks when I was 19-years-old as my very first stock market investment, using a 65-year-old broker, who had been through three market cycles, and yet he thought it prudent to take every dollar I ever made pumping gas at Sunoco, making kebobs at Bruno’s Fine Foods, packaging fish at Metro, and bussing tables and eventually bartending (awesome job!) at Shark City – and put it all into ONE stock.

Talk about a bad investment.  Everybody has a story.

I respect these people for making the investment, and for going on record with their stories.

But a lot of them, and all of the people I talked to last week, somehow are coming out of this saying, “It’s not fair.”

Or “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Or my favourite, “Somebody should do something.”

And that somebody is……………wait…………….I know this……………..the government?

Yes!

The classic go-to!

And thanks so much to the City Councillors who jumped on this bandwagon and offered “Something should be done,” only to go home and eat a microwave pizza.

I’m sorry, but nothing will be done.

And if “something” is done, ie. there’s a mandatory $20,000 per buyer refund for any cancelled projects, the developers will simply build that into their pricing strategy from the onset.

This is the way pre-construction condos are sold in Toronto, and it’s why for the last decade, I have been the most outspoken critic about the perils, and risks, of buying pre-construction condos.

I have never sold a pre-construction condo to a buyer.  Not one.

A family friend recently told me, “That’s where you should be, dude!  Those fat 4% buyer-commissions?  You don’t want a piece of that?”

Nope.  Never have.

As both articles noted, only 23 projects in Toronto, since 2012, have been cancelled – according to real estate think-tank, Urbanation.

But how many have been delayed by a year, or two, or five?

How many have had an “occupancy period,” where you basically pay rent on a unit you’re supposed to own, for upwards of TWO YEARS?

How many buyers were shocked to see $47,850 of “closing costs” for their $399,000 condo?

How many buyers have had their promised 10-foot ceilings changed to 8-foot, with no financial compensation?  Or seen their magnificent 400 square foot terraces reduced to 60 square foot balconies, and been told, “The balcony is ‘exclusive use, common elements,’ and therefore you wouldn’t own it; you didn’t purchase it, and it’s not a material change.”?

I could go on, but you’ve heard this all from me, many times, over the last decade.

Sure, a lot of people made money on pre-construction condos, but that’s because the market continued to climb, and I maintain they’d all have made more in the resale market, not having to pay occupancy fees or closing costs.

I’ve never understood the investment.  The risks are too high.

And seeing these poor folks turfed out of Museum Flts sucks, but they need to hear the tough love here: it’s the risk they took.

To come around now, and cry foul, say that “something should be done,” or complain that developers shouldn’t be able to do this, when they had every opportunity to evaluate the risk-reward proposition of this investment three years ago, simply reeks of that entitlement, privilege, and lack of accountability and responsibility we spoke of earlier.

I had clients looking at freehold houses with me several years ago.

I was showing them properties on the east side around $800,000.

They went cold on me, and I found out eventually through a mutual acquaintance that they had bought into a pre-construction condo, and didn’t want to consult me as they “knew I was completely and utterly against the idea.”

I was a little hurt that they didn’t at least run the idea by me.  It had nothing to do with the commission, for those of you about to suggest as much, but rather if they knew I was “completely and utterly against it,” and didn’t ask for my opinion, then they were being irresponsible.  There are pros, and there are cons.  And while they had access to somebody who could point out all the cons, better than anybody, they chose not to hear it.

Their project, as you might assume from the way this story was set up, was eventually cancelled.

They were given somewhere around 0.75% interest on their deposit, and turfed aside.

Those houses I was showing them at $800,000 were worth about $1,150,000 by the time their pre-construction condo project was cancelled.

Hindsight, I know.  That’s what you want to tell me.

But they could have completely mitigated that risk by purchasing an $800,000 freehold home, in an A+ location, which I said at the time, and was proved to be correct, would massively out-appreciate the market average.

I feel bad for them, but I really shouldn’t.

And nobody should feel bad for anybody profiled in the two articles above, just as nobody should feel bad that at 19-years-old, I took my life savings and put it into ONE stock, even though I should have known better.  I could have blamed the stock broker, and I could have blamed accounting scandals that plagued the industry in the late 90’s and early 2000’s, and I could have simply blamed the market.  But I always blamed myself, and I learned from that experience.  It cost me $14,400, since I rode the stock all the way down to $2 at the advice of my broker, but it was the best $14,400 I ever spent.

I haven’t made a poor investment since, and I trace it all back to that investment when I was a kid.

So for those of you that are thinking about a pre-construction purchase, read the articles above, and ask yourself, “What level of risk would I tolerate, and how do I feel about this as a potential downside outcome?”

And for those of you that have invested in cancelled projects, don’t blame the developer.

There are so many things you could have done differently.

Did you use an agent?  Or did you walk into the sales centre and trust the “floor agent” who works for the developer?

Did you hire a lawyer during the Provincially-mandated 10-day rescission period?  Or did you simply assume everything was kosher, and try to save the $3,000?

Those questions are almost rhetorical, since I’d wager 50% of buyers would say “no” to both questions.

I tell new real estate agents all the time that I have a saying.  A mantra, if you will.  It’s simple, and it’s helpful.  It goes, “Find a way to blame yourself.”

You didn’t sell that house?  Find a way to blame yourself.

You didn’t get that listing?  Find a way to blame yourself.

Your buyer client started working with another agent?  Find a way to blame yourself.

Instead of blaming that stupid home inspector who didn’t know anything, or that jerk of listing agent who had it out for you, or that miserable parent of your buyer-client that got in your way, or your client’s idiot boyfriend who was a market bear – find a way to put the blame on yourself, and you’ll learn what you could have done differently.

I would encourage anybody with a real estate disappointment, whether it’s the buyers at Museum Flts, or anybody else out there, to try using the same mantra.

Who knows, you might learn something…

The post Another Pre-Construction Condo, Cancelled. Who Is To Blame? appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.

Originated from http://ift.tt/2yw4Zi1

[rebeccahpedersen]

Another Pre-Construction Condo, Cancelled. Who Is To Blame?

TorontoRealtyBlog

I suppose it’s not fair of me to say “another” as though it were a common occurrence, since only 23 condo projects in Toronto have been cancelled since 2012.

But every time this happens, those who were “burned” cry foul, when all the while, they should have known the risks.

Two of the major Toronto newspapers picked up the story, and as a result, City Councillors are saying “something should be done,” when in fact, nothing ever will be.

Let me explain to you why this is a risk every pre-construction condo buyer takes…

I’m really having trouble understanding the world today.

Every day, it’s more and more complicated, and yet the complication arises through our own doing.

I’m one of “those people” who thinks the world is getting too soft.

Everybody is offended by everything.  Constantly.

I can’t open a newspaper without seeing somebody crying foul about something, and most of the time, it’s seemingly innocuous.

The topic of “entitlement” came up in the comments section of a blog post last week, and a reader called it “the elephant in the room.”  I certainly hope it’s not; I hope it’s something everybody would see, even if I, or other readers, forgot to mention it.

Entitlement is a word that gets thrown around a lot these days.

Privilege is another.

But what about responsibility?

Accountability?

When I was raised, these were traits we aspired to possess.

Remember what it was like in Grade-10 when you handed in an assignment one day late?  You got 10% taken off, on the spot.  Two days late?  20%.  Today, public schools have not only done away with “late marks,” but just about any other responsibility or accountability that an impressionable young boy or girl ought to understand.

One of my family members is a teacher, and she has kids in her classes that get eight.  Like, eight percent.  As in 8% in a class, when 50% is a “passing grade.”

Do those kids fail?

No.

They’re passed, usually at the behest of some socialist guidance counselor or vice-principal, as the “leave no child behind” school of thinking believes that we should teach these children they should skip class all year, do no work, call the teacher names with no repercussion, and then move on to the next grade, rather than learn responsibility and accountability for their actions.

I suppose the “business” of university will start doing the same – passing kids along, so they can get enter the workplace completely unprepared, with no concept of reality.  But in order to accomplish that, the universities would need to take some time away from their busy schedule of creating safe spaces for students who don’t want to debate anything, because there should only usually be one side to any argument.

Entitlement.

Privilege.

Responsibility.

Accountability.

I could go on.  But I feel as though I may have already lost half of you.

I may be a 37-year-old, trapped in an 82-year-old’s body, about to go outside and yell at a cloud for moving too fast while shaking my fist at a young whippersnapper for skateboarding too close to to my prized petunias, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to hold it in.

A few weeks ago, a notable condominium project called “Museum Flts,” was cancelled.

I know what you’re thinking, and yes, the project was cancelled because of financial woes, and yes, we should have known this a long time ago as they clearly couldn’t afford the “a” in “Flats”…

When the project was cancelled, my phone started to ring.

I talked to a half-dozen people, some who had bought into the project and had Googled “pre-construction” and found my blog, and some in the media who thought it was a great story and wanted some background fodder.

And even though I’ve “seen everything” in this industry, I was absolutely shocked to see a complete and utter lack of understanding, and accountability, among those who had bought into the project, and were saddened, disappointed, frustrated, outraged, confused, and financially crippled by its cancellation.

Two of the major Toronto newspapers picked up the story.

Let me provide the links and a couple of excerpts for some context before we move on:

    From Friday’s Financial Post: “Cancellation of 10-storey Toronto Condo Tower Throws Buyers Back Into Pricey Market”

Excerpt:

The cancellation of a ten-storey Toronto condominium development that has thrust would-be owners back into an increasingly competitive condo market has renewed calls for tighter regulations and more protections for buyers of pre-construction projects.

The Museum FLTS condominium cancelled earlier this month is the latest condo project to be shelved. Developer Castlepoint Numa cited lengthy delays in obtaining the necessary approvals, building permits and, in turn, financing, as reasons for the halt.

“Recently, the industry has been experiencing the most significant cost increases in a decade,” the developer said in a post on its website.

Castlepoint Numa is returning deposits to original purchasers and giving them the first opportunity and a discount on the next residential phase of its greater Lower Junction neighbourhood project.

But those promises are cold comfort for Michael Lynn, a 47-year-old musician and university instructor who bought a one-bedroom unit in Museum FLTS 18 months ago. He received a registered letter on his birthday earlier this month, his first inkling that anything was awry.

He was refunded his nearly $60,000 deposit, along with $400 in interest, but does not think he will be able to afford a similar property in the same neighbourhood.

Lynn believes developers should be forced to meet a higher bar before they start selling units and taking deposits.

“At the moment, they can promise the world just to get the buyer in and then, say, ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t do that’.”

    I’ve done enough newspaper interviews over the years to know the game.

You need “colour” for a story to work.

A story about a condominium being cancelled does not work if you don’t have a name, a face, and a quote to go along with it.

And both articles from the National Post and Toronto Star have exactly that!

Here’s an excerpt from the Star article:

    From Saturday’s Toronto Star: “Cancellation Leaves Buyers of Pre-Construction Condos Priced out of Market”

Excerpt:

Kurt Trowbridge, 34, who bought with his partner, Zak Osman, 38, says they, too, have been priced out of the market while the developer held their money for more than a year.

“We’re still in disbelief,” Trowbridge said. “The market has changed so much.”

He said he felt sick about the cancellation. The couple had worked hard to save a deposit. They had shared their happiness with family and friends.

“I felt kind of ashamed telling people we made a bad investment,” he said.

Jason Paris, 43, has been living with family while waiting for his condo but there are others worse off, he said.

“There are couples still living with their parents (that) planned their wedding timed to the condo closing. There is someone who was moving from London, England. There are people who have been impacted more than me, but it still sucks,” Paris said.

At first, he wasn’t too worried because he has a place to live while waiting for another opportunity. Then he realized that new, stricter mortgage rules that are being introduced in January will probably make it tougher to qualify for a more expensive home.

    Here we have people who are willing to go on record, and put their names out there.  I say, good for them.

All too often in today’s society, it’s the anonymous keyboard warriors who shout the loudest, and offer the most vitrol, not to mention act the most cruel.

I respect every single one of these people for going on record, and I understand their plight.

But forgive me when I say this: these people took a risk, and suffered from the wrong end of a risk-reward equation.

The person quoted who said, “I feel like of ashamed telling people we made a bad investment,” I have so much respect for this guy.

But Kurt, don’t be ashamed!

The people you are telling have made far greater mistakes, and far worst investments.  They just might not talk about them.

At least you tried something.  At least you took a risk.  It didn’t pay off, but you took a risk.  How many other buyers out there were frozen; paralyzed with fear, as the media continued to predict a market decline for a decade, who sat on the sidelines and did nothing?

I infamously put $15,000 into Nortel Networks when I was 19-years-old as my very first stock market investment, using a 65-year-old broker, who had been through three market cycles, and yet he thought it prudent to take every dollar I ever made pumping gas at Sunoco, making kebobs at Bruno’s Fine Foods, packaging fish at Metro, and bussing tables and eventually bartending (awesome job!) at Shark City – and put it all into ONE stock.

Talk about a bad investment.  Everybody has a story.

I respect these people for making the investment, and for going on record with their stories.

But a lot of them, and all of the people I talked to last week, somehow are coming out of this saying, “It’s not fair.”

Or “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Or my favourite, “Somebody should do something.”

And that somebody is……………wait…………….I know this……………..the government?

Yes!

The classic go-to!

And thanks so much to the City Councillors who jumped on this bandwagon and offered “Something should be done,” only to go home and eat a microwave pizza.

I’m sorry, but nothing will be done.

And if “something” is done, ie. there’s a mandatory $20,000 per buyer refund for any cancelled projects, the developers will simply build that into their pricing strategy from the onset.

This is the way pre-construction condos are sold in Toronto, and it’s why for the last decade, I have been the most outspoken critic about the perils, and risks, of buying pre-construction condos.

I have never sold a pre-construction condo to a buyer.  Not one.

A family friend recently told me, “That’s where you should be, dude!  Those fat 4% buyer-commissions?  You don’t want a piece of that?”

Nope.  Never have.

As both articles noted, only 23 projects in Toronto, since 2012, have been cancelled – according to real estate think-tank, Urbanation.

But how many have been delayed by a year, or two, or five?

How many have had an “occupancy period,” where you basically pay rent on a unit you’re supposed to own, for upwards of TWO YEARS?

How many buyers were shocked to see $47,850 of “closing costs” for their $399,000 condo?

How many buyers have had their promised 10-foot ceilings changed to 8-foot, with no financial compensation?  Or seen their magnificent 400 square foot terraces reduced to 60 square foot balconies, and been told, “The balcony is ‘exclusive use, common elements,’ and therefore you wouldn’t own it; you didn’t purchase it, and it’s not a material change.”?

I could go on, but you’ve heard this all from me, many times, over the last decade.

Sure, a lot of people made money on pre-construction condos, but that’s because the market continued to climb, and I maintain they’d all have made more in the resale market, not having to pay occupancy fees or closing costs.

I’ve never understood the investment.  The risks are too high.

And seeing these poor folks turfed out of Museum Flts sucks, but they need to hear the tough love here: it’s the risk they took.

To come around now, and cry foul, say that “something should be done,” or complain that developers shouldn’t be able to do this, when they had every opportunity to evaluate the risk-reward proposition of this investment three years ago, simply reeks of that entitlement, privilege, and lack of accountability and responsibility we spoke of earlier.

I had clients looking at freehold houses with me several years ago.

I was showing them properties on the east side around $800,000.

They went cold on me, and I found out eventually through a mutual acquaintance that they had bought into a pre-construction condo, and didn’t want to consult me as they “knew I was completely and utterly against the idea.”

I was a little hurt that they didn’t at least run the idea by me.  It had nothing to do with the commission, for those of you about to suggest as much, but rather if they knew I was “completely and utterly against it,” and didn’t ask for my opinion, then they were being irresponsible.  There are pros, and there are cons.  And while they had access to somebody who could point out all the cons, better than anybody, they chose not to hear it.

Their project, as you might assume from the way this story was set up, was eventually cancelled.

They were given somewhere around 0.75% interest on their deposit, and turfed aside.

Those houses I was showing them at $800,000 were worth about $1,150,000 by the time their pre-construction condo project was cancelled.

Hindsight, I know.  That’s what you want to tell me.

But they could have completely mitigated that risk by purchasing an $800,000 freehold home, in an A+ location, which I said at the time, and was proved to be correct, would massively out-appreciate the market average.

I feel bad for them, but I really shouldn’t.

And nobody should feel bad for anybody profiled in the two articles above, just as nobody should feel bad that at 19-years-old, I took my life savings and put it into ONE stock, even though I should have known better.  I could have blamed the stock broker, and I could have blamed accounting scandals that plagued the industry in the late 90’s and early 2000’s, and I could have simply blamed the market.  But I always blamed myself, and I learned from that experience.  It cost me $14,400, since I rode the stock all the way down to $2 at the advice of my broker, but it was the best $14,400 I ever spent.

I haven’t made a poor investment since, and I trace it all back to that investment when I was a kid.

So for those of you that are thinking about a pre-construction purchase, read the articles above, and ask yourself, “What level of risk would I tolerate, and how do I feel about this as a potential downside outcome?”

And for those of you that have invested in cancelled projects, don’t blame the developer.

There are so many things you could have done differently.

Did you use an agent?  Or did you walk into the sales centre and trust the “floor agent” who works for the developer?

Did you hire a lawyer during the Provincially-mandated 10-day rescission period?  Or did you simply assume everything was kosher, and try to save the $3,000?

Those questions are almost rhetorical, since I’d wager 50% of buyers would say “no” to both questions.

I tell new real estate agents all the time that I have a saying.  A mantra, if you will.  It’s simple, and it’s helpful.  It goes, “Find a way to blame yourself.”

You didn’t sell that house?  Find a way to blame yourself.

You didn’t get that listing?  Find a way to blame yourself.

Your buyer client started working with another agent?  Find a way to blame yourself.

Instead of blaming that stupid home inspector who didn’t know anything, or that jerk of listing agent who had it out for you, or that miserable parent of your buyer-client that got in your way, or your client’s idiot boyfriend who was a market bear – find a way to put the blame on yourself, and you’ll learn what you could have done differently.

I would encourage anybody with a real estate disappointment, whether it’s the buyers at Museum Flts, or anybody else out there, to try using the same mantra.

Who knows, you might learn something…

The post Another Pre-Construction Condo, Cancelled. Who Is To Blame? appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.

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