#let pern have roses

[kariachi]

Here's the thing, I know Pern has citrus. I know that fuckers on the seas or out traveling long distances over mountains and shit are probably carrying whatever fucked up bastard children the sluttiest of Earth fruits managed to create out there.

But damnit the idea of the Pernese growing fucking high vitamin c berries and shit purely to prevent scurvy is just too damn fun. Like yes I could run the concept in other things but I want to run it here too.

Give me the Pernese consuming so many fucking rosehips I need it in my life.

And don't tell me it's not practical, this series doesn't make sense anyway!

[kariachi]

You just wanna take McCaffrey and shake her. They’ve got a perfectly viable strategy going on- lay many eggs and leave them to their fate is a wonderful concept for a prey animal specifically, especially since they likely breed year-round on Southern given the climate seems to be very accommodating, like at most I could see firelizards not breeding during hurricane season but otherwise things seem suitable for year-round breeding- but no, no they have to be going with it because they’re the stupidest things to ever grace the planet. Full 50% of firelizards apparently have absolute fluff for brains, amazing the species has survived.

Because somehow it never occurred to Anne that if only 1% of your population is making babies, and you are a wild animal, your species isn’t going to last. But somehow, those firelizards~ Just, every green egg is nonviable or not even worth looking at because it make, greens, and blues, but mostly because they make greens horror of horrors.

The worst part is, the greens’ ‘lay ‘em and leave ‘em’ strategy is extra effective for their species, because we’ve already seen that firelizards can tell when eggs are going to hatch or babies are going to be born and that they flock to join in and help. So it’s low care while they’re egg with all but a guarantee that if they survive to hatch they’ll be immediately made part of one fair or another. They’re a social species for whom leaving their eggs alone doesn’t stop the young from being raised in safety of the fair from hatching! So the best case scenario is that your eggs survive and get taken in by a fair, and the worst case scenario is they get eaten in which case they’re still acting as a distraction from the eggs of the other dams in your fair to whom you’re probably related! Plus, the constant egg loss helps prevent overpopulation! It fucking works!

But no, Anne couldn’t have with that, she had to keep her Super Special critters super special, and just wasn’t capable of doing that without tearing other fuckers down. Which, having read her heroes, I can see how she got into the habit, but still.

Anne McCaffrey's classism and misogyny are almost indescribable. Specifically in regards to green fire lizards. It's like a perfect combination of classism and misogyny and it just becomes so fucking absurd. Like rich people staring in offended horror and clutching their pearls because a poor person has an iphone or something. but more absurd.

[copperdaisy]

Whoops. Got inspired by @kariachi to revisit old Pern OCs and a 700+ word ficlet fell out as a response. (The tl;dr backstory here is that my girl, Eleven, did not have the easiest life and had a metric ton of dragon related trauma and then the worst thing possible happened to her. This is the very very very belated reaction from her.) =====

The world was ending.

Perhaps not Pern itself, though the inexplicable return of Thread seemed to herald it, but Eleven's world was in tatters. The panic that tore at her insides had not abated in the slightest in the candlemarks since she had been ushered into the infirmary. Sat on a stool placed out of the flow of traffic she stared at the group of healers still huddled around the cot without actually seeing them. She wanted to run. That was what she was best at, wasn't it? Running? No. No, she was not good at running. She was actually quite terrible at it. Not once in her life had she outrun anything. Maybe if she was better at it, none of this would be happening. So many things would not have happened if she were better at it. She would not be the broken husk of a person she was if only she had been better at running.

A pathetic mewl rose above the murmur of human voices and she flinched. It was a horrible sound. So weak, so frightened. It cut to the core and she drove her nails deep into her palms in hopes that the pain would block it out. Her hands were sticky. Her arms and the front of her shirt were, too. She wanted to clean up. She needed to return to her room and hide wash up. The healers would not let her. She needed to stay, they said. One of them offered her a damp rag but her fists refused to open long enough for her to take it. He draped it over her knee instead where she could grab it when she was ready. The gap he left in the circle around the cot allowed her a glimpse of the sickly pale creature resting on it.

Green, green, green, why was it green?

Anger, scorching as the noonday sun, blossomed in her chest. She wanted to rage at the Weyrleaders. This was their fault. This was Scarlet's fault. He had been the one to shove that… that thing into her arms on the Sands. And now, now she was bound to it, a fate that she had never desired. Why did that keep happening? Why did adults always drag her into fresh levels of hell? No one even knew if the hatchling would survive the night. It was small, underdeveloped. The space in her mind it had carved for itself was silent. It could be dead by sunrise and drag a part of her with it.

The creature cried out again in its tiny whimper and her anger turned to fear. Once again she was trapped by circumstances beyond her control. What if it survived? How could she possibly love it? Green, green, green, why was it green? The beast that had hurt her so terribly had been green. She could not do this. Again the hatchling cried, its little muzzle pointing in her direction, searching for her even though its eyes could not open to find her.

Someone was sobbing. It took her a minute to realize it was her. She doubled over and pressed her face into her still balled fists. What was she supposed to do? She didn't want this. She didn't want this, she didn't want this, she didn't want this. She was falling apart, she was breaking, she was – she was losing herself.

A host of voices called to her through the haze of her fright. They echoed inside her head, one after the other, gold and bronze and brown and blue and yes, there was green, too and hints of others. Some voices she knew. Others were strangers. They coaxed her to calm, offered their strength to ground her. Inch by painful inch she uncurled herself, shaking hands clutching at the healers that had rushed to her side. She slid off the stool and had to be caught when her knees buckled, allowing the doctors to guide her over to the cot where the nameless hatchling was waiting. Its frantic panting evened out to easier breaths once she was settled next to it.

She didn't want this. She wanted to run. But she had never been good at running. Surviving was what she was best at. She had survived everything thrown her way thus far. Maybe… maybe she could survive this newest shattering of her world. And if the fragile dragon that had chosen her as its lifelong partner was anything like her, perhaps it would see its first morning after all.

They could figure things out from there...

[pentowrite-wingstofly]

62, 66, 96 from the weird asks :)

Thank you!! 😊

62: seven characters you relate to?

Ooh, this is harder than it looks. Um...

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), because my weapons of choice are sarcasm and wit, and I hide absolute insanity behind a put-together front.

Éowyn (the Lord of the Rings), because I understand being told to stay back and let the men take care of things.

Lessa (the Dragonriders of Pern), because it's really easy to get tired of being told to let guys handle things, and take matters into your own hands.

Hermione Granger (Harry Potter), because I know what it's like to be disliked for being a 'know-it-all.'

Tech (the Bad Batch); WHY DOES NO ONE CARE ABOUT ALL THIS COOL INFORMATION I HAVE STORED IN MY BRAIN?

Merida (Brave). Independent aroace QUEEN.

Literally any character with ADHD, or who is ADHD-coded.

66: favorite flower(s)?

Ooh, I think my favorite are dahlias! I also love roses and daffodils. 😛

96: desktop background?

Though I'm actually about to change it to my current header. :)

Weird asks that say a lot

[tryan-a-bex]

Okay let’s see:

I love them all too much to choose and most have a second choice in universe that was hard to choose from (Beka Cooper, Aelliana Caylon, Rose Walker). And there’s other series that are close runners up like Donna Noble, Beverly Crusher, Tiffany Aching, Cimorene, Kate Daniels. I could keep going.

And maybe I should do a nonbinary one eh?

If you see this, feel free to play! Also tagging @best-wishes @lostelfwriting @karalynlovescake @academicblorbo @ilya-halfelven

fav female character tag game 🌷🌙

let’s be honest, my friends, women always need more appreciation. every type of them. so, in this tag game, I am going to stick with that theme and share some love of my favorite female characters of all time.

Rules: Make a poll of your top four favorite characters of all time and see who is the favorite amongst your followers!

tagged by the loveliest @briarroses 💖💖💖 Thank you! Tags are so encouraging!

soft tag: @briarroses (back at ya! next four favorites) @shadowqueenjude @sonics-atelier @teddyhoneybear @kateprincessofbluewhales @praetorqueenreyna @sonics-atelier and @tamlindair

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB MIV Week 18 Roundup!

Go lavish some love on our wonderful creators!

Title: Better Than McDonalds Collaborator: 27dragons Card Number: 4027 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - Janet Van Dyne Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Past Abuse, friends helping friends, correcting dickish behavior Summary: For this prompt from the Winteriron Winter Stockings event: Bucky comes out from an abusive relationship. Tony is different, very different. But then, he also forgets dates, makes rash decisions and talks over Bucky. That’s okay. Tony, when he finds out, doesn’t think so and tries to change it. It’s slow going. But he will do everything to get Bucky to smile that smile more often! Word Count: 1210

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Title: The Physics of Snowball Fights Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Card Number: 4042 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - nerf/water gun war Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff and Humor, MIT Era, Snow Day, Snowball Fight, Kissing in the Snow Summary: Tony and Rhodey engage in some snow day shenanigans. For science. Word Count: 985

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Title: Febuwhump Day 7: Poisoning | Tony & Morgan Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Card Number: 4048 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K1 - Iron Dad Ship: Tony & Morgan Rating: Teen Major Tags: poisoning Summary: As they’re working in the lab together, Morgan comes over suddenly unwell. Tony realises she has been poisoned.  Word Count: 622

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Title: Hel–loki–tty Collaborator: deehellcat Card Number: 4028 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - Asgard Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: cross stitch Summary: Cross stitched Hello Kitty Loki, with the glowstick of destiny at hand and helmet (adapted for ears!) firmly in place

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Title: I Just Need You Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number: 4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R1 - A Battle/Fight/Confrontation Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Breaking up and Making up Summary: Tony did the right thing. He really and truly believes he did the right thing. Steve deserved better. Even if it makes them both miserable. Word Count: 2508

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Title: Captain America Shield Sachet Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Card Number: 4042 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: adopted square - vibranium Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: craft Summary: Captain America’s shield, made out of felt and filled with rice & a vanilla scent.

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Title: On the Edge of Glory Collaborator: deehellcat Card Number: 4028 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A4 - kink: edging/orgasm denial Ship: Pepperony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Role-Play, Bondage, Tentacles, Consensual Non-Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Kinky Tech, Desperation Play, Suspension, Gags, Predicament Bondage, Edging, Begging, Tie and Tease, much fluffier than you might expect, Couples, Loving Smut, Top Tony Stark, Bottom Pepper Potts, (at least for this playtime hehe), Enthusiastic Consentacles, (appearances notwithstanding) Summary: A stealthy intruder gets caught up in a reclusive genius’ kinky security system and is left hanging. Literally. Word Count: 4381

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Title: itchy fingers Collaborator: feignedsobriquet Card Number: 4039 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S1 - Enemies and Lovers Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: art of hands

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Title: Authenticity Collaborator: deehellcat Card Number: 4028 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R1 - mission sex Ship: Tony/unspecified partner Rating: Teen Major Tags: AU—spies, who’s the other party? Choose Your Own Ship, Mission Sex, Simulated Sex, Fake Dating, Inappropriate Arousal, Dialogue Only, SHIELD Agent Tony Stark Summary: Two agents reluctantly paired for a joint mission discover they are being surveilled, and decide to put on a show to maintain their cover…but is it just a show, or will true feelings be revealed? Word Count: 800

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Title: ThunderIron Love Languages Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Card Number: 4048 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T4 - Thor Ship: ThunderIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: love languages, gifset Summary: Gif set showing the different love languages of Tony and Thor

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Title: The Wilds of New Atacama Collaborator: 27dragons Card Number: 4027 Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - AU: Dragon Rider Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Crack, you have been warned, AU: Science Fiction, AU: Dragon Rider, this ain’t no pern Summary: Tony stood up in the saddle to let his gaze slide over the fluffy backs of the herd, counting idly. All present and accounted for, he settled back into his seat and patted JARVIS’ neck. JARVIS rumbled at him affectionately, and Tony made a mental note to round up an extra treat or two, when they made it back to camp. Word Count: 636

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Title: untitled Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Card Number: 4048 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - Scott Lang Ship: Tony & Scott Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: Tony and Scott are forced to work together and neither is happy about it.

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Title: Challenging the Status Quo Collaborator: Politzania Card Number: 4007 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S4 - Sanctum Sanctorum Ship: Gen Rating: IronStrange Major Tags: Established Relationship, the Sanctum is Sentient Summary: Stephen brings Tony to the Sanctum for the first time. Word Count: 692

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Title: what i know about you (would fill a thousand books) Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S4 - Sharon Carter Ship: Carter-Stark Cousins, Stony, Natsharon Rating: Gen Major Tags: Established Relationship, Past Abuse, Insomnia Summary: Here is what Tony knows about Sharon: she tells people she likes blueberry muffins because she thinks it makes her sound grown up, but she prefers chocolate donuts. She likes wildflowers and lilies and violets, but Queen Anne’s lace best of all and that’s what Natasha had brought her for their third date that had tipped her from liking this red-headed spy into loving her. On bad days, she curls up on the couch with the softest blanket she owns and watches old cartoons. Here is what Sharon knows about Tony: he used to love carrot cake but hasn’t touched it since the day his parents died while he and Sharon were out at dinner. He insists on always having her burner phone’s number when she’s a mission because the one time Fury told him he couldn’t have it, Sharon ended up with three broken ribs. He hates roses because they were what Tiberius always gave him after he did something like cheating on Tony or hitting him or mocking him in front of the press (Steve gives him blue poppies the same shade as the arc reactor and Sharon loves him for that). Word Count: 2284

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Title: DUM-E's Drawings - Chapter 14: TON-E be my Valentine? Collaborator: LBibliophile Card Number: 4090 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A1 - use of symbolism Ship: Tony & DUM-E Rating: Gen Major Tags: Bot feels, Valentine’s card, arc reactor Summary: Dum-e knows that hearts are a key theme of Valentine’s day design, so that’s what he draws. But right.

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Title: Safety Reset Collaborator: 27dragons Card Number: 4027 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - Psychological Torture Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Established Relationship, post-battle angst, Insomnia, Guilt, Snuggles Summary: Bucky and Tony have both been fighting their brains a little too long. It’s time for a reset. Word Count: 834

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Title: Purr In Your Pocket Collaborator: rebelmeg Card Number: 4034 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - Image of Silver Fox Tony Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: pets, Tony collects cats, Pepper is exasperated and very fond, Tony's happy retirement Summary: Tony has attempted to smuggle another forbidden item into his menagerie. Pepper is not fooled, but darn it if her husband isn't really cute when he's doing something he shouldn't. Word Count: 1310

[auroralightsthesky]

Learning to Fly: Chapter 8

The dusky blue sky became tinted with a bright shade of deep rose as the sunrise encroached on the horizon. The weyr still lay in the shadow of night with the cool air of early morning blanketing the mountains. Ribbons of early morning mist coiled and wrapped around every stick, stone and crevice in the weyrbowl and beyond. The faint smell of moisture had married together with dragon nettle, knight hops, mocking pine and laceflowers, a refreshing scent that would greet the inhabitants of the hold and put them in the best of moods.

Eugene Sledge had no idea why he was already awake at that ungodly hour or why he was so excited. No one had told them of any plans or to be awake at a certain hour, but Sledge just couldn’t stay asleep. He hurried from his bed and out onto the weyr platform to take in the dusky morning. All around the weyr, dragons were flying through the air, coming and going as they pleased. A few of them dug into the unfortunate bucks and prey that hadn’t been able to escape those sharp teeth set in their wedge-shaped heads. Sledge could have watched them for hours if he really wanted to. He seated himself on the edge of the platform and kept his eyes glued on the huge green bowl below, watching the dragons come and go.

The sound of footfalls caught his attention. He half expected it to be Sid, but it wasn’t. Sid was never up this early anyhow. It was only Burgie.

“The hell are you doin up this early?” Burgie yawned, rubbing the grog out of his eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sledge answered. “The rest of’em will sleep until noon if we let’em.”

“Ah what do we care anyhow,” Burgie shrugged as he seated himself beside Sledge. “The longer Snafu’s out of our hair the better.”

The two of them watched the dragons down in the small, circular valley below, the Red Star catching their eye in the huge expanse above. Red and hot it glowed, like an ember in black ashes that refused to wither away. The Red Star and its dreaded Oort Cloud that tossed Threads upon the planet every Pass…..Pern’s greatest menace.

“You think that was the last Threadfall, Burgie?” Sledge asked. “The one that happened when we were kids?”

“It’s hard to say,” Burgin answered. “By the looks of it, I don’t think so. The stronger that thing gets, the more dangerous it becomes.”

Looking up at that red menace hanging over them made them feel horridly uneasy. To them, it felt as though they were being watched by a huge red eye that never blinked. Sledge wondered what it would have took to snuff out the Red Star……to be able to snuff out those wretched little Threads that would have eaten Pern alive.

Sledge and Burgin sat out on the stone landing ledge until the bright, yellow orb of the sun emerged on the horizon, the night dying away and leaving the dawn to come. More dragons had come flying down into the bowl, ready to eat their fill and eager to be flown by their masters. It wasn’t long before the entire weyr woke to life. The boys began to awake at the first shreds of sunlight that poked into their rooms, yawning and rubbing the grog out of their eyes and throwing on a clean set of clothes before rolling out of bed.

“Hey any idea where we go for chow around here?” Jay asked him, his head still heavy from waking up.

“Lower caverns,” Sledge replied. “At least, that’s what Chesty told us.”

“Said he had an announcement to make to all of us too,” Burgin replied.

“Better get Snafu up then,” Jay remarked. “He’ll sleep till high noon if we let him.”

“I’m on it,” Sledge replied.

He strode over to Snafu’s bed and abruptly whipped the covers off the sleeping, tan little Cajun who drooled into his pillow. “What dafuck Sledgehammah?” he groaned irately.

“Get up Snaf,” Sledge said. “Food’s first priority and then Chesty needs to see us.”

Snafu didn’t move. Sledge knew exactly what he was doing. It was an old trick he used to pull when they were kids and he wanted to get out of doing chores. He would go limp and remain unmoving until someone gave up and left him as he was to sleep the day away……but this time Sledge wouldn’t have it.

“GET…….UP!!!”

He caught Snafu completely off guard when he grabbed him by the ankles and completely dragged him off the bed and onto the floor where Snafu landed with a loud yelp and a *THUD!*. “Are you ready to go now?” Sledge questioned.

The only response he got from Snafu was a lazy thumbs up. Sledge rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet you down there in ten.”

[longsightmyth]

Hi. I've been meaning to read the black jewels just because I've found some things about the worldbuilding interesting, but I keep hearing that it's definitely dated with its girl power message and its separation of people into male and female. Would you mind detailing why you don't like it?

So while I personally feel it is necessary to take the context of a work into consideration (ie, time, culture, etc) especially in the case of feminism and the ever-evolving understanding thereof, I’m going to go ahead and say it: The Black Jewels is bad. It isn’t feminist, it doesn’t perform the author’s stated intent of examining a world where the Nurturers (ie women specifically) control the Warriors (ie, men specifically). I capitalized the words because Anne Bishop does in her introduction in the 2003 omnibus of the first trilogy. We’ll get back to that.

Cut for the content that is part and parcel of The Black Jewels

I’m going to revisit context here. I, for instance, love Dragonflight and consider it a feminist if occasionally outdated work. Anne McCaffrey was writing sci-fi in the 60s in the US, working within the sudden framework of sexual liberation (…questionable) and civil rights. She chose to write a book with built-in genetic diversity where a woman is important not only because we’re told she is, but because nothing in the book would happen without Lessa’s decisions. On the surface dragonrider culture is comparable to Bishop’s Blood culture: there are queens (in Pern dragon queens ridden by their weyrwomen psychic/empathic soulmates, while in TBJ Incredibly Magical Women are the queens) and the culture has evolved to revolve around them. In practice… well, on a meta level Lessa drives the plot by her decisions and actions while Jaenelle drives the plot by her existence and sexiness, even as a twelve year old. Narrative power is consistently removed from Jaenelle: her father, brother, and lover make the decisions that change the world and are the ones acknowledged by other characters to have the power, though they like to SAY they defer to Jaenelle. Lessa is dictated to by men, but Lessa and the book comment on the fact that it’s wrong on a meta level and society level. Lessa takes power on her own, or has it conferred on her by other women: Gemma confers on Lessa the final piece of knowledge/plot to lead Fax to his doom though she dies doing it, Ramoth (admittedly a dragon, but a lady dragon) confers on Lessa the power to literally control the weyr and everyone in it by way of their dragons. R’gul in Dragonfligh perverts the social order as we’re told people have perverted the social order in TBJ, but once Lessa realizes it by way of Manora (a woman) she takes steps to undermine R’gul on her own time, in her own way, on her own initiative. Jaenelle is never allowed that option: The Boys are already doing it for her. She has to take the final step (expecting to die doing it, though of course The Boys save her), whereupon she is depowered on a magical level as she already was on a narrative level. Lessa uses the power she discovered to save the world (interestingly, while Bishop calls women the Nurturers, Jaenelle’s worldsaving involves the murder of the MAJORITY of The Blood, while the worldsaving plan of Lessa, who is routinely allowed to be unpleasant, unlikable, occasionally violent, and on more than one occasion downright bloodthirsty,  involves instead multiple plans for MORE dragons, including negotiating the forward time travel of more than 1500 dragons to save her world and her people, yes even the ones she doesn’t like. Which one is nurturing here?). Interestingly, while Lessa acknowledges the possibility of failure and death, she relies on herself, her dragon, and her family ties (it’s no coincidence that Lessa uses her family’s ancestral lands as her way to travel back in time, and it is no coincidence that those family ties are part of what allows her to convince another Ruathan woman to help get everyone forward in time) to get herself back and to save, not her love interest (though F’lar is admittedly instrumental in making sure everyone survives long enough for Lessa to get her idea).

None of this is helped by Jaenelle never having so much as a paragraph written from her point of view. Lessa, on the other hand, is the main PoV. For a book series ostensibly about Jaenelle, it’s very telling that we never ever get to ‘hear’ her views on anything.

Further, the sheer amount of child sexualization is startling in the Black Jewels. Not only is there a truly excessive amount of rape in general and child rape in specific, every man (yes even the good guys whose PoVs we’re in) attracted to prepubescent girls (Daemon likes to say he’s attracted to Jaenelle’s power and not her body when she’s twelve, but he’s still attracted to a twelve year old and plans to wait until she’s old enough to have sex with him)(yes he is the hero). Pern, despite what Todd McCaffrey would have us believe of his mother’s world, does not allow for the sexualization of young girls in specific and children in particular, let alone a father constantly commenting on the sexual attractiveness of his fifteen year old daughter who has been in a coma since she was twelve.

Please consider also: Dragonflight was published in the 1960s. The first Black Jewels novel was published in the late 1990s. There’s… not really much excuse for any of this, though admittedly series like Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses, both of which pull a significant amount of inspiration from The Black Jewels, are still being published. So what do I know?

I’ve never written a short reply in my life, and for that I apologize. My point is this: The Black Jewels fails at it stated objective and fails as a feminist work in general. Further, it fails on a worldbuilding level: for a book that says the culture revolves around women, everyone sure is interested in what the men are doing and saying and how masculine men are.

Also, you can check out the tag ‘myth rags on the black jewels’ and you’ll see a lot more commentary and a lot less comparisons to Dragonflight.

[hddnone]

Title: From the Shell TSB Card Number : 3036 Square : T5 - dragon for @tonystarkbingo Ship : None Rating : Teen Tags : Pern AU, telepathic dragons Summary :  This is Tony Stark's first and only chance to Impress a dragon.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24430246

Word Count: 1.5K

Tony shifted on his feet. The heat of the sand hadn’t reached through the soles of his thick leather boots and started scorching his feet yet, but it was only a matter of time.  His feet were already sweating along with the rest of him. The sun was beating down, and the cooling breezes didn’t reach down into the Bowl where he was standing. 

He was baking between the hot sun and the hot sand, but hopefully not for much longer.

The boy next to Tony wiped the sweat from his brow. There were over two dozen boys, including Tony, on the sand. They were spread out among the ten eggs that sat on the hot sand. 

Eggs that were about to hatch, according to the dragonmen. 

Well, in truth, according to the dragons themselves, or so Rhodey said. The dragons simply passed along the message so they could get the candidates for that Hatching out onto the sand in time. The mother always knew. 

Tony spared a moment to glance at the gold dragon who watched them all with suspicion. She didn’t seem enthused about the humans on her hatching ground, but Hatchings were tradition. Hatchings were when Impressions were made, linking dragon and rider and creating a bond between man and beast that lasted their entire lifetime. 

Hatchings created dragonmen. 

Or dragonwomen. Closer to the dragon mother, there was a group of six women who stood in a semi-circle around the single golden egg. From the golden egg would hatch a gold dragon, and only women Impressed gold dragons. 

It was the gold dragons who rose to mate, and the gold dragons who laid eggs for the next Hatching. The rider of the most senior gold dragon was one of the leaders of the Weyr, the other leader being the rider of the bronze dragon who last caught the gold in mating flight. It was the most recent coupling between the gold and bronze dragons of the Weyrleaders Christine and Justin that had produced this clutch. 

The other ten eggs were mottled white, and would contain the fighting dragons - a mix of bronze, brown, blue, and green. 

Tony didn’t even care what color he got, as long as he walked off the sand with a dragon. He wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise. Obie would laugh him out of the Guild if he tried to go back. Rhodey said he’d make a good dragon rider though. Or really, Rhodey’s bronze dragon Pytorin said that, and Pytorin had a good sense about these things. 

Tony wiped his sweaty palms on his tunic. He could only hope that one of the baby dragons that Hatched today thought the same way.

But there was more than enough competition on the sand with him, all equally hopeful. Most of them had grown up in the Weyr, and Tony figured that had to be some advantage. No one knew what it was that caused a dragon to Impress, but knowing about dragons had to help, right?

An egg rocked, and Tony’s heart leapt into his throat. There were gasps from the crowd above, who sat in the stands etched into the side of the Hatching Bowl. They were all dragon riders themselves, including Rhodey, but Tony kept his focus on the hatching eggs rather than search for him in the crowd. 

The dragons of the Weyr lined the lip, their gazes just as watchful. They started to hum, a vibration that seemed to fill the entire Bowl. Aemyer’s gold tail lashed and her eyes whirled. She hummed as well as she watched her clutch start to hatch. 

Another egg wobbled, and then another one started to crack. Tony’s gaze darted from egg to egg, watching. Hoping. 

Then there was a blue dragon keening as his head broke through the shell. The little dragon, the size of a grown hunting dog, fell onto the sand. His eyes were red and whirling, and his head swung around in search of something, someone. 

Tony said nothing, but he cast his hopes out in his mind. Dragons formed a telepathic link with their rider, and maybe that link was established first. Maybe all Tony had to do was think hard enough and the right dragon would hear him. 

The blue dragon waddled forward practically fell into a boy, who couldn’t be more than twelve Turns. The boy leaned down and grabbed the head of the dragon, steadying it. 

The dragon cooed, and the boy’s face was so rapturous that Tony had to look away. 

The crowd cheered as the first Impression was made. 

The boy was so young. He would’ve had chances at other Hatchings to Impress, if he hadn’t. But he did. A blue dragon, which was quite respectable. Tony was nineteen Turns. He was the one of the oldest boys on the sand, and he wouldn’t get another shot at this. 

A brown dragon crawled his way out of his shell. Then two bronzes. They keened hungry, desperate cries. Tony wanted to take a step forward, wanted to put himself in their paths, but that was not the way Hatching was done. It was the dragon’s choice, and they would move toward their rider. That was the way. Tony did have to move to side step a green’s wings, but the green was headed for someone who wasn’t Tony. 

Tony had five chances left. Then three. 

There was a keening cry that pierced Tony’s heart, and he looked over. The gold egg had hatched and revealed the gold dragon. The little dragonet stomped around the sand, trying not to foul her wings, but her large head pulled her forward. She fell, face first, in the sand. Several of the women reached out, but no one touched. The Impression hadn’t been made yet. 

Tony couldn’t help but smile. Soon enough, the awkward dragonet would grow into that head. And then she would grow larger still, and take the skies with beauty and grace. Tony could imagine flying - Rhodey had brought him to the Weyr on the back of Pytorin - and it seemed the most wondrous thing, to take to the skies with nothing but man and dragon. 

That was true freedom. 

And with a Weyr of fellow dragons and riders to return to? That would be home. 

But only if Tony Impressed a dragon today. He turned back to the eggs, and found them all broken open. All the dragons were hatched, and all the bodies - bronzes and browns and blues and greens - were being cooed at by their humans. 

Tony hadn’t Impressed. He would not be a dragon rider. 

A sharp trill directed his gaze back to that gold dragon. She was rearing back, screeching an angry cry. Her golden mother chirped in admonishment, and the dragonet returned to all four legs. She dashed forward, only just slow enough to let the women in the semi-circle scramble out of her way. She flopped over the broken shells of her brothers and sisters, and Tony wanted to tell her to be careful so the edges didn’t cut into the delicate membrane of her wings. 

But then she was there, safe, and Tony hurriedly stepped to the side to let her pass. 

She trilled and turned to Tony again. 

“What?” Tony asked, looking up to meet the eyes of the other riders who weren’t chosen. 

Everyone had the same shock on their face that Tony felt. 

“The riders you want are over there,” Tony said, pointing to the women. He wasn’t sure how to reason with a dragon.

The gold dragonet butted his legs, and the push was more than Tony was prepared for. He fell back onto the sands, and she climbed on top of him. Her claws raked into his chest, deep enough to bleed, but Tony didn’t care. 

Their eyes met, and Tony saw the whole world in her eyes. There was the wind and sky, cool rivers and hot sands. There was the break of dawn and the stars of the night, and Tony never wanted to look away from that beautiful gaze. 

We will fly together, said a voice in his head. We will have fun. 

“You want me?” Tony whispered, and his thoughts returned to the women who were supposed to be the riders for gold dragons. 

Tony had never heard of a man Impressing a gold dragon before. 

You are mine, she said with feral possession. I am Tala.

“I’m Tony,” Tony whispered. 

I know.

He felt Tala���s smugness, but that was quickly overtaken by hunger. 

Tony helped Tala off his chest, being careful of her claws, and stood. He promised her that they would find food for her immediately. 

Tony looked up and finally understood just how quiet the Bowl was. The other candidates and riders were staring at him in shock. 

Men did not Impress gold dragons. 

Tony tilted his chin up. He had Impressed a dragon. The bond was there. He could feel it, feel her, in his mind. They were together, dragon and rider, and they couldn’t be separated. Even if Tony hadn’t Impressed the proper color of dragon. 

I am the best color dragon, Tala insisted. And also very hungry. 

“Her name is Tala,” Tony announced into the quiet, “and she’s very hungry.” 

[clairelutra]

Dragon AU with Akirann maybe? Where Arsene and Carmen/personas are dragons! (the rest of the PT? also persona dragons??) AND/OR Role Reversal Lunoct would be neat (I hope you have fun with these!)

send me an au for a short fic

ty!! :D

…it’s an odd fusion of pern and inheritance cycle, really

Akira wasn’t saying it was awkward to stand next to Ann Takamaki as they registered their dragons for a mating flight, but it was something close.

The sheer number of other Riders attempting to murder him with their eyes was really something, especially with Arsene radiating smugness through their soulbond and Carmen’s proud, hungry lust echoing from down the metaphorical hall.

He wasn’t exactly surprised that Carmen had chosen Arsene for her first flight (he was the squad’s leader, after all), nor was he too surprised that Ann had agreed to it (they were good friends, and Ann had always valued trust in her relationships), but it was still pretty surreal to walk into Igor’s office and ask for the papers to make it official.

“So! Um… Thanks… thanks for doing this for me,” Ann murmured as they waited to be summoned. “Carmen’s so picky I’m not sure what I would have done if you said no.”

“All out of the goodness of my heart,” he murmured back, dry as cracked scales. Did she think he got nothing out of this? There was a very good reason that most of the guys in this room would kill to be him.

(In the back of his head, Arsene’s smugness got louder.)

She laughed quietly, then trailed off into a sigh. “Seriously, though. Carmen was refusing to consider anyone else so hard I really thought we might be doing this alone.“

Carmen broke into the conversation with the mental equivalent of a snort and a distant, I’m certainly not the only ‘picky’ one around here.

Ann flushed.

“…I’m flattered,” said Akira. That wasn’t quite the word for the acrobatics in his stomach or the five-alarm heat of the thought that he’d been among her first and only choices, but it also was something close.

She sighed again, ruefully this time, her blush gorgeously accentuating the already-gorgeous lines of her face. “Ooooof course you are.”

He tilted his head in silent question.

“W-well!” she blurted, now adorably awkward and alarmed. Wide blue eyes danced to him and then away, her fingers curling in the collar of her Rider leathers. “I-I mean… Not much you can do about it, I guess, I just… thought my first flight would be a little more romantic.”

Most of the Riders he knew had a much more utilitarian view of these things—it was the norm to find a temporary partner for your bi-yearly mating flights until you had a mate—but somehow… it fit that Ann Takamaki would break the mold.

“Roses? Fireworks?” he asked, not bothering to disguise his interest.

“Well, those are nice,” she agreed, smiling wistfully. “But really just… I don’t know. Someone who loves me for me, I guess.” She looked down at the sheaf of papers in her lap and ran her thumb over the empty ‘yes’ checkbox for Will this flight establish you and your chosen partner as a matepair?

Done, said Arsene to Akira, sotto voce and knowing.

Akira shoved his dragon out of his mindspace.

“A-again!” Ann blurted, endearingly embarrassed. “Not really something you can help, you know? It’s pretty silly idea anyway. Nobody really expects their first flight to be with their one and only, yeah?”

(I could be your one and only, flitted through Akira’s mind apropos of nothing, and he couldn’t even blame it on his dragon that time.)

“Well,” he said aloud, rather than dwell on the fact that this wasn’t nearly the first time he’d thought something like that. “Let’s start with the roses.”

“Huh?”

He nodded at the papers. “We have three weeks before the flight. Let me make up the difference.”

“Y-you don’t have… to…” She trailed off when she met his eye, her own going wide and soft.

He’d by lying if he said his heart hadn’t lurched for that look.

Her fading flush darkened yet again.

(How many times now? He could count but he was too busy glowing.)

“…Okay.”

—

And so three weeks passed in a parade of dates, from roses to fireworks to late night rendezvous in flower fields and mid-morning brunches in uptown.

Arsene only judged him a little bit and Carmen actually helped, which Akira was equal parts suspicious of and grateful for, and by the time the day itself rolled around, He’d been forced to admit, if only to himself, that maybe he’d fulfilled Ann’s initial wish too—there weren’t many other explanations for how or why her mere presence turned up the color contrast on the whole world.

(It always had, and that blend of overwhelming peace and quiet thrill was nothing new.

Dammit.

There was a reason he tried not to think about how lovely she was or just how many people wanted her.)

Night came all the same, and if his part in the lovemaking was a little too fervent and a little too honest, then no one was in any state to comment on it.

They fell asleep together with fingers intertwined, and Akira himself wasn’t in a state to question that either…

Until the next morning, when he found his veins alight with a new bond singing through them, Ann’s rose-petal-and-ember presence pressing up against the edge of his consciousness just as surely as her naked form was pressed against his side.

Neither dragon—neither of the two that he could hear equally well now—had any apologies to offer.

This is a mess, he mentally muttered at the both of them. Summoning any stronger negative emotion was beyond him right now.

I do believe someone had to do it, was all Arsene said, normally-wily Carmen radiating contentment behind him.

Akira was about to protest, he really was, but then Ann half woke up, blinked at him blearily a few times, and then sighed herself into a puddle against him, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

After that, the only objection he could make was, …Now the paperwork’s all wrong.

Arsene laughed his draconic laugh and nudged Akira back to sleep.

[kariachi]

Pern AU Concept: Ramoth never Rises. That 450 years of incest? Nemorth hardly rose and laid small clutches, Ramoth never rises at all. Yank F’lar and Lessa’s feet out from under them, add some more tension to the whole crazy ‘travel back in time’ plan. There’s no back-up gold, there’s just Ramoth who even years after she should’ve Risen hasn’t yet, and the not only the creeping threat of Thread but that if she doesn’t Rise? Dragons are fucked. Because you’ve seen the Bendenites, they’d have sat there with two greens and a blue left, tossing ‘em stone and lamenting that they ran out of breeding stock with the loss of Nemorth. And even letting the greens breed would’ve just delayed the issue a few generations at best.

Ramoth never rises, Benden bronzes lack so much in comparison to the not-Hapsburg-exceeding-levels-of-incesty bronzes and even browns they need to transfer in entirely new stock.

If you’re gonna have the Benden dragons be the result of centuries of direct incest then damnit there needs to be at least one AU where that actually affects shit.

[callioope]

A couple weeks ago, I posted a recap of my last D&D session for the Tomb of Annihilation campaign that I’m in. You may recall, I ended on a bit of a cliffhanger! Well, our adventures continue...

From the Diary of Maritsa Stormwind, Level 4 Cleric Camp Vengeance, Deep in the Chultan jungle, along the Soshenstar, far upriver from Port Nyanzaru

Battle of the Undead (cont’d)

Peeking through the front gates, I could see, far across the camp, by the southwestern corner that the undead had blown through the night before: two horrible beasts ravaging among the soldiers. One, a wight riding a skeletal warhorse, the other a zombie ogre. 

Could I get there in time? My heart raced. Behind me, my Spiritual Weapon was still engaged with the last remaining skeleton on the bank of the river. I swung it at the skeleton, but missed.

I had to make a decision, and fast: my Spiritual Weapon moves much slower than me, and was already 20 feet behind me, in the wrong direction of the remaining battle. If I ran beyond the 60-foot range, it’d dissipate anyways. And I knew it only had 30 seconds left. Given my options of what I could do, was it worth it?

I decided to keep it. I moved it as far as I could, and dashed through the gates in time to see Gotem engaged in combat with the zombie ogre.

Perne and Durth dashed inside towards the northwest section of camp to assist the soldiers there, while Arannis dashed past me towards Gotem. Everything was so far away! 

In the distance, I could see Commander Breakbone utter a command¹. Feeling encouraged, I knew I could do some damage if I could fight by his side.

The battle raged around us. The wight on the warhorse used some kind of spell that looked sort of like Onks’ Eldritch Blast, but wasn’t quite the same. He hit Gotem and Whisper. Whisper threw a javelin. The ogre hit Ord (one of the soldiers at the camp) and Gotem with his club. 

This was my chance, I knew. I quickly glanced around the battlefield. Several of my compatriots looked like they could use some healing, but -- as I “dragged” my Spiritual Weapon a little closer -- I only had healing options that would take too long to administer.

And to be honest, I wanted a piece of that ogre.

Still a good distance away, I’d need a range attack to be effective. I muttered a quick prayer to Ilmater under my breath. I’ve had trouble staying on target with this spell. But this zombie ogre was huge, and that wight looked dangerous. We needed to do a lot of damage. 

I cast Guiding Bolt.

I held my breath as light streaked towards the ogre. A solid hit! In the dim light glittering around the ogre, I could see it wince in pain. And the ogre turned to face me.

Again the battle ranged around us. I lost sight of Durth and Perne. Onks cast Vicios Mockery on the ogre. Commander Breakbone slashed at it with his great sword -- and then a peculiar thing happened. He fell to his knees, clutching his head. It was only for a moment, and then he was up again.

Before I could understand what was happening, the wight raised some thing over his head and cast a spell across the camp². Whatever it was, I shook it off.

My attention then fell on Whisper, battling the Ogre. The ogre turned towards me, but had to walk past several us -- I can’t even remember who -- who all took the opportunity to attack him. It swung at me, but missed. 

Then, Gotem fell.

Oh, there’s no excuse for the dilemma this caused. I don’t know why we never noticed his vampiric nature until he drank from that strange grog Whisper shared with us. But at any rate, it’s been long enough, since then, that we ought to have come to a good strategy for healing him. Most of my spells would have no effect on Undead. 

But there was one thing I could do, and given the state of my peers, it was overdue.

I cast Aid on Gotem, Ord, and Whisper. Gotem rose up, a little shaky but stable. 

Arannis struck the ogre with his daggers, and finally it seems we are making a difference against this monster. I could hear sounds of battle at the north end of camp, and in the distance could just make out Durth’s form as a bear. No sight of Perne. Ord shot at the ogre, Onks used Toll the Dead, and Breakbone slashed at the wight.

And then it happened again. Breakbone fell to the ground, clutching his head, but this time, he did not rise, and began to spasm on the ground. He was too far for me to reach, way too far. That feeling I had, that encouragement that I could do a little extra damage, vanished as I saw the commander fall, and fear took its place.

The wight moved towards Gotem, and I feared this battle was about to take a turn for the worst. The creature jumped off his horse, hand glowing and raised above his head. He grabbed Gotem’s neck and shook him, and Gotem began to spasm. And yes -- Gotem fell to the ground once more. 

Before I could do anything, that dread skeletal warhorse trotted towards me, kicking like mad, but it didn’t hit me. 

I couldn’t reach Gotem, but I knew I had to get these monsters away if we had any chance of saving him. And he was unconscious, so he wouldn’t hear or see what I was about to do: play the card I’d been holding all along. 

I raised my shield, the emblem of my Holy Symbol pointed towards these foul creatures, and prayed.³

I could see it take effect on the skeletal warhorse and the ogre, but the wight and a nearby skeleton seemed unperturbed. Still, two of the close creatures threatening Gotem would be gone.

I moved that darn Spiritual Weapon a little closer, feeling tethered to this object and wondering if I’d really made the right decision, spending so much time moving it along.

Just then, my heart lifted as I saw Perne run around the corner of the commander’s tent and swing her long sword at that forsaken wight! Arannis, meanwhile, fed Gotem a potion and hid. Durth, still a bear, tried to attack the wight, but missed. Ord tried to shoot the wight, too, and also missed. I knew this wight would be our toughest foe yet. 

Then Onks finally got a hit in with Chill Touch. 

And, it seemed, the tide was turning in our favor. The wight, looking severely hurt now, raised its arms again and cast two bolts from its hands. It missed Gotem -- thank goodness -- but hit Ord. Ord remained steady on his feet though, and after taking the blast, he looked at me and nodded his thanks for the AID I’d provided earlier. 

And then the wight stepped forward and vanished in a mist.

We had other foes, in the meantime! The horse galloped away towards the north end of camp. The ogre charged around the southern medical tent, towards the main entrance where we’d fought earlier. I watched as the archers above the gate shot a volley of arrows. It ruined the effect of the ogre’s fear, but I felt sure we were near the end. Gotem threw a javelin at the ogre before hiding. 

And I could see my Spiritual Weapon shining just within range of that ogre. I moved it towards him and swung. He flinched, really feeling it now. Whisper shouted from somewhere -- I’d lost track in the chaos -- reminding me of my Sacred Flame. 

I didn’t blink twice. Flame-like radiance fell upon that ogre.

And it fell.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Perne finish off that nearby skeleton and rush towards the Commander. Ord followed. Arannis, meanwhile, darted up the closest tower to see what he could spot.

I planned to cast Detect Evil and Good to see if I could locate our final threat, but then I saw Bear!Durth sniff the air and turn around, back towards the north side of camp. Onks, Whisper, and Gotem all followed. 

I followed as well, still moving my Spiritual Weapon with me, though I could quickly feel it’s time coming to an end. There was, at any rate, nothing left to do for the moment. Perne came up behind me and Arannis darted in front of us. 

We all gathered at the entrance of the northern medical tent, where we could hear screams of fear. Several soldiers -- those who had been wounded in the battle the night previous -- limped out around us as fast as they could, horror on their faces. 

Anger surged through me then -- surely nothing compared to the rage that surges in Gotem’s blows, but I could understand it a little bit then, I thought. How dare this monster attack this camp, nearly kill my friends, and THEN, of all things, descend upon a camp of wounded. I could imagine what it might have planned for them, and I would have none of it!

I pushed past my friends, slipped inside past a strange statue of a tiger, and as if I could burn this creature down with the rage in my eyes, cast Sacred Flame once more towards its skull.⁴

Light flashed in it’s eyes and then it crumbled to pieces, nothing left but a pile of ash and bone. 

Beside me, the tiger statue turned back into Whisper. I let out a long, heavy breath. The heavy rain we’d fought in spattered against the canvas of the tent and then petered off. 

We stepped back out into a low fog. I very much wanted to attend to my friends and make sure they were alright -- I still had two spell slots left -- but then we heard a great commotion in the southern medical tent and rushed over.

There we discovered a crowd around Commander Breakbone. Eku motioned us forward towards his cot, where he writhed and spasmed as if in some horrible nightmare. Black tendrils like a spider web crept us his neck. 

“Something is siphoning his life,” Eku told us. “There is only one thing we can do to save him: we must go to Mbala and stop her.” 

She explained he has only three or four days, but we could get to Mbala in two. Arannis crudely suggested we cut off his head. I reminded myself, he is only just out of his elvish childhood years and has known a rough, roguish life and is exceedingly paranoid. That did not ease my mind. I had to content myself with the hope that he intended to protect the other villagers, however misguided his judgment. 

Between Durth and I, we healed as many of the soldiers as we could, including Perne and Ord. I cast my remaining spells, Prayer of Healing and a Healing Word. I thought, perhaps, I would be sorry to say goodbye to Perne.

And then I passed out in -- well, one of the tents that wasn’t trampled by the battle.

Setting out for Mbala

There is hardly a moment for rest in this forsaken jungle, so it seems. We set out as early as we could, after a long night’s rest. After the events of last night, I hardly noticed the unpleasantness of our accommodations. 

The soldiers had been hard at work while we slept, and had gathered the Undead skeletons, zombies, and horse in a great mound at the northwestern corner, near the abandoned outhouses. A group of soldiers, including Ord, solemnly saw us off. 

And then -- what do you know -- Perne follows us out the front entrance, a knapsack over her shoulder.

“For saving my life, and the lives of all my fellow soldiers, I’d like to join you all in the fight against Nanny Pu’Pu.”

Eku leads us into the jungle. 

Oddly, it felt colder than normal, and the wind blew especially fierce, blowing from behind us towards the south, in the direction we needed to go. It seemed to carry us along with it, and our pace quickened. Never had we traveled so fast. Whisper and Arannis raced along, but Whisper quickly outpaced him, and flew through the trees, delighted. It was good to see some humor about our party again. 

We stopped to forage about midday, and Onks and I discovered a good deal’s worth of coconuts, which we brought back to share. 

A Chilling Encounter

I must admit, I found it quite difficult to sleep that night. The ordeal with that hag vexes me. I wish I could find some way to lift this awful dread about me. I know I feel just a little off, and not my full self. That hag has done something to me -- not Nanny Pu’pu, that other one. I tossed and turned and just went I had settled into a deep sleep, Arannis woke us up to the sound of rumbling footsteps of some incredibly large creature.

As we were sleeping, I’d changed into my pajama armor (the studded leather), and felt incredibly vulnerable. Around me, my compatriots darted to hide in the trees, but I only had time to grab my shield.

And then two giant hands parted the trees above us like a curtain, and a giant woman’s blue head peered down at us.

A Frost Giant!

But here?

“Which one of you is Artus Cimber, bearer of the ring of winter?” it said to us, it’s low, slow voice. So, this must be that man we met along the river, the one that had turned it to ice, had saved us, and darted away without any polite words or even a name.

Whisper dropped to the ground to answer. “None of us, but we met him upriver.”

The giant conceded that it would be able to sense the ring, if it were close. She settled down into our camp, declaring she’d stay here -- no, I didn’t like that, but what could any of us do against a Frost Giant?!

Of course, Arannis seemed to think there was something he could do. “Do you have dark vision?” he asked. I’d have hid my face in my hands if I’d had the courage to so much as twitch.

“Whyyy?” the giant asked.

Arannis began to explain our complicated watch schedule, then waved his hand. “You know what, you’re enormous, you do you.”

Perhaps, in other circumstances, it would have been amusing.

The giant offered us all a drink from her huge flagon of ale. She then said, “I pray to one god, and it is not this... Bill.” Well, we are all used to this by now, familiar with Onks’ unusual method of communicating. He must have spoken to her mind directly, without sharing it with us. And of course, his vigilant efforts to spread the word of Bill continue. From the fishermen’s taverns in the port of Baldur’s Gate to deep within the jungles of Chult, the word of Bill continues to grow. 

I must admit, as strange as my fellows are, they are rather entertaining -- for all the trouble they cause. I wonder what Perne will think. I hope she is not too off-put by them. But she will see how good they can be.

Gotem managed alright with a sip of that giant’s drink, which is very good because the giant found this amusing. It clapped him on the back and Gotem fell face forward into the dust. 

“So you’re a Frost Giant,” Gotem said, standing up. “That’s out of season here.”

“Twenty of us made the joruney from the sea of moving ice. After this ring of winter,” she explained, in her slow way.

“What do we call you?” I asked.

“I’m Thyra Permafrost.”

This was going rather well, I thought, and I relaxed a little. The giant seemed somewhat appeased by our company. Though I don’t think I could sleep well, between the hag and this giant. 

This was when Arannis entered into a tense negotiation with her. He attempted to make a trade, “if you help us in the direction we’re going and we’ll help you in the direction you’re going.”

This did NOT bode well. Arannis babbled a little bit more, and the giant did not like this. She took some threatening steps towards him. 

Thank Ilmater, Whisper intervened. Fast on his feet and fast on his wits! “What he means to say is it was up the river to the northeast.”

He gave him further details on what had happened, and at last, the giant left. Feeling faint, I retired, with just a little concern over whatever consequences may fall out, between this Frost Giant and this man with the ring of winter. I am not sure who might be more fearsome.

Hotspring Hijinks

The next day passed without too much eventfulness. We did not travel as quickly, especially with the rain started coming down in sheets and we had to make camp quickly.

Someone discovered a hot spring, wild grapes growing nearby. It was a great improvement for morale, what with the rain, but I do not trust this jungle. I tossed a rock into the spring to see if it disturbed anything. No. Arannis poked his finger in; it didn’t seem acidic, so he stripped and dived in. Whisper hesitated only slightly and then followed suit. Onks started to enter, but that little smoke monster he keeps on his shoulder warned him off. Gotem fell in face first. 

They beckoned me in, but I saw Perne talking with Eku, so I joined them and ignored the general hijinks that ensued. After about an hour, Arannis called out, “Maritsa, do Undead breathe?” No, I told him. “Okay, he’s probably fine then.” I looked over to see Gotem floating facedown in the water. 

Onks and I then set out making camp and we all settled in for our nightly routine. Around that time, Whisper and Gotem started coughing and looking uncomfortable. 

You see, this jungle cannot be trusted.

Eku and I went over to look. Throat leeches. Disgusting, horrifying. I debated using Lesser Restoration, but it is a second level spell, and we will have no opportunities for a long rest before facing Nanny Pu’pu. 

Arannis, ever resourceful these days, suggested drinking acid from that jug we found in the booby-trapped temple. Surprisingly, Whisper took him up on the idea. Well, at least I could heal damage... At this point, I more vocally offered Lesser Restoration for Gotem, but he shook his head and decided to risk the acid. It did not seem to hurt him quite so much. 

And so their antics continue. 

Approaching Mbala

After several hours of hiking in the morning, we reached an 1,800-foot high plateau. Sheer cliffs rose above heaps of boulders as high as ships. We could see a narrow path cut into the cliff face, switching back here and there. Eku said we might be able to scale, but the path would be better. Surely climbing such a cliff face would be insanity. The path would suffice.

It took several hours to climb, but what stunning views! The Chult wilderness spread out before us, picturesque, lush, and green. Of course we know what nightmares lurk beneath this peaceful facade, but it was really nice to look at. 

We could see, in the distance, far to the southeast, a massive chunk of earth hovering midair, about several hundred feet off the ground. Eku explained this was an earthmote called the Heart of Ubtao, the last remaining of what was once many. Rumor has it, she said, it is occupied, but she hasn’t been to that area to confirm the truth. I wonder if our travel to find the source of this Death Curse will lead us there.

To the west, we could see the top of a ziggurat, barely poking out above the trees. Eku noted, in awe, that this was the ancient ziggurat of Orolunga and inside lives a great seer, Saja N’Baza, who she said has lived for thousands fo years. 

About one hundred feet below the top of the plateau, we came upon a fifteen-foot wide crevice. Into the sides were carved scenes of jungle predators, flying lizards, and erupting volcanos, and above all this, a massive fireball plummeting to the earth. Before us: gates rotted away, rusting on iron hinges. And human skulls grinning up from the roadway and above.

Notes:

1. He did some kind of Leadership ability that I’m not familiar with, but it gave us 1d4 on top of attack roles or saving throws

2. The wight cast Fear, causing us to each make Wisdom Saving Throw (Maritsa passed because her WIS modifier is stellar)

3. Channel Divinity: Turn Undead

4. HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?! YAAS.

Also, DM told us to LEVEL UP !!! at the very end. Now Level 5 B) cannot WAIT to rock these new cleric moves.

[pixel-fried-shoestrings]

Tag 11 people you’d like to get to know better!

I was tagged by @jadeplumbob and @prima-rina! Thank you so much to the both of you <3. I have never been tagged for anything so this is super exciting! <3333333

dogs or cats? Dogs! I have a 9 year old English lab. Wrigley, my baby. Who grouns when he eats and always wants to cuddle. But honestly I like anything floofy!

youtube celebrities or normal celebrities? Can I say both. I feel like we fall in love with youtubers because of their personalities. But regular celebrities are more of a cinematic experience that most youtubers wouldn’t be able to duplicate.

if you could live anywhere where would be? Somewhere in the mountains. Remote. Off the grid where you are just continuously surrounded by the nature that cities have forgotten existed.

Disney or DreamWorks? Disney, I like the star Wars. Love all the aliens and species in the films. I was a swtor mmo player for a long time because of it. Yes I am letting the nerd out of the closet! :D

favorite childhood tv show(s)? Duck tales the movie. Rescue Rangers, Tailspin.Oh and Winnie the poo “The land of milk and honey movie” We were poor and only had movies lol

the movie you’re looking forward to most in 2020? David Copperfeild, Mulan, Artimes Fowl, I was super excited about Zombieland 2 that just came out! I haven't seen it yet. The new mutuants look pretty darn cool too.

favorite book you read in 2019? Hmm. I haven't had a chance to read a lot this year. I’ve been so busy. But “Red Rising’ By peirce Brown was AMAZING I could not put it down. Like a dystopian hunger games. That is just uuugggg soo good. I am going to read it again now!! lol

marvel or dc? I like characters from both but Dc: Green lantern, Flash, and Green Arrow. Of course Batman and all their amazing villians. Poison Ivy. Pengin. 

if you choose marvel favorite member of the X-men? if you choose DC favorite justice league member? He’s not a member, but I love The penguin. I do think Aqua man is pretty cool though all in all. He’s a little but of both the villain and the hero.

night or day? So I wake up for my job at like 4 something in the morning, and I tend to walk up generally pretty early on my days off because of that. But I am a night owl all the way. I will get some stuff done after 8 pm! LOL

favorite Pokémon? Oh man I remember when pokemon just came out. I loved Ninetails, but the last evalution. Cubone was cute. But I think out of the total original was squirtal

Top 5 Bands? This one is hard. Cuz I love me some songs. Hmmmm ones I cant live without. Queen. Freddy Mercury is a musical genious. I love me some Bruno Mars. Blink 182, Green Day. Red Hot chilli peppers, Lady Gaga. The eagles.  Rush and some Phil collins. Disturbed, Korn. Yeah my musical tastes are everywhere. Basically anything that bops.

top 10 books? 1. The City of Bones 2. Red Rising Series 3. Divergent Series 4. Harry Potter 5. Anything Kresley Kole Paranormal romance. 6. Angels and demons by dan brown. 7. Karen Marie Monings Fever Series. (AMAZING.) 8. Gena Showalter The darkest touch and that series. 9. Planet Urth series (AMAZING) 10. The dragon riders of pern. 11. Eragon Series 12. Throne of glass (AMAZING LOL no really good.) 13. Children of Eden

top 4 movies? 1. Memoirs of a Geisha, Inception, Gangs of New York. Avatar, Zombieland, The fifth Element, Looper was cool too. Minority Report

america or europe? Id say both. Ive never seen Europe. So until I do I can’t say ^.^

tumblr or twitter? Tumblr I’ve never used anything else.

pro-choice or pro-life? Pro-choice

favorite youtuber? Daz Games, Joey Garceffa, and Devon Bumpkin

favorite author? Kresley Kole. Her whole immortals after dark series is amazing. It’s paranormal romance though (Mature ;) only though.)

tea or coffee? I love tea but lately Ive need caffine (Coffee) and my skin hates it.

OTP? Jack and Rose on the titanic. But come one she could have scooted over a little. 

do you play an instrument/ sing ? I used to play the flute, I was in marching band. This one time, at band camp..... no. I haven't played since then but I wish I never gave it up. I was pretty good!

Yes, I cannot deny the amount of geekiness in this post. But I embrace it.I am sorry I have not done this sooner. My grandfather has been very sick in the hospital, so thank you to you too for thinking of me. I needed this. <3 

I tag @gerbithats @geeky-simz @ladykendalsims @prismaticpixels @vapidsims @gladlypants @blurri-sim-kid @oasiscreek @pxelbeans @guapogato @reecey-v @sikasims

[thevalicemultiverse]

Get To Know the Muse(s) -- Alice & Victor

season:  Alice -- early spring; Victor -- late spring

color:  Alice -- blue and red; Victor -- blue

pie:  Alice -- strawberry; Victor -- apple

fruit:  Alice -- strawberries; Victor -- apples

ice cream flavor:  Alice --  strawberry, chocolate, Neapolitan; Victor -- chocolate, Rocky Road, Cookies & Cream

breakfast food:  Alice --  pancakes with syrup; Victor -- French toast and hard-boiled eggs

alcoholic drink: Alice -- Nothing; Victor -- Nothing (neither of them drink)

soda flavor:  Alice --  Dr. Pepper; Victor -- root beer

scent:  Alice -- Floral scents, catnip; Victor -- Tree scents, dog smells

flowers:  Alice -- Roses, lilies; Victor -- daffodils, bluebells

animal:  Alice -- cats, rabbits; Victor -- dogs, butterflies

movie:  Alice -- The Truman Show (I think she’d find the main character relatable, and the whole movie fascinating); Victor -- Ghostbusters (a fun sci-fi/fantasy about busting ghosts! He also likes the sequel and the reboot)

tv show:  Alice -- QI (it’s a show about weird facts and suchlike; right up her alley); Victor -- Castlevania on Netflix (I have personally not seen it, but I’ve heard good things, and it’s about vampires and kick-ass lady magic users and going up against evil -- he’d probably enjoy it)

book: For modern verses, anyway: Alice -- Monstrous Regiment from the Discworld series (she likes and relates to the main cast a lot); Victor -- Dragonsong from the Dragonriders of Pern series (he’s always wanted a pet dragon, and he relates to Menolly more than he thinks he should)

fairy tale: Alice -- Cinderella (she has a whole new appreciation for what the title character went through after Houndsditch -- also the mental image of Bumby getting his eyes pecked out by birds in the appropriate versions); Victor -- Snow White (he can’t help but feel a kinship with the princess who shares his color scheme -- plus he’s sometimes wondered if running off to a house of dwarves in the woods wouldn’t be better for him than his home life)

genre of music:  Alice -- “moody” songs (like with heavy bass beats, dark lyrics, stuff like that), but she’s also fond of parodies; Victor -- classical (especially piano numbers), big musical numbers

genre of movies:  Alice -- fantasy, comedy; Victor -- sci-fi, fantasy

genre of books:  Alice -- fantasy, mystery; Victor -- fantasy, horror

Pick one.

hot or cold: Both prefer hot

juice or soda: Alice prefers juice; Victor is more likely to get a soda

tv or movie: Both would pick movie 

movie or book: Both would pick book

late night talk shows or reality tv: I don’t think they’d like either, but if there was nothing else on, I think they’d pick reality TV -- might be more interesting, should provide plenty of opportunities to mock the television

twitter or instagram: I think both would prefer Instagram; Twitter would provide too many opportunities to annoy them

trees or flowers: Alice prefers flowers; Victor prefers trees

philosophy or psychology: Both are more into philosophy (Alice in particular doesn’t like psychology for what I hope are obvious reasons)

ocean or lake: Both are more familiar with lakes, at least in the real world; the Deluded Depths are fun in Wonderland, though!

water park or amusement park: I think they’d both prefer an amusement park, though one with water rides would be a good compromise

cats or dogs: Alice is a cat person; Victor is a dog person

fresh water or sparkling water: Both prefer fresh water

sugar or honey: In tea, I assume? I’d say both prefer sugar, though they both will eat honey

cookies or candy: Both prefer cookies (though Victor will definitely not say no to candy)

bath or shower: Alice prefers showers; Victor likes baths (even if he’s too long for most bathtubs!)

morning or night: Both tend toward night (even in verses where one of them doesn’t have to be nocturnal)

running or walking: Both like walking (particularly together); both tend to end up running from something at some point. XD

piercings or tattoos: Eh, I can’t see either of them getting either. . .but if it came down to it, I could see both going for a tattoo over piercings.

frozen yogurt or ice cream: Both prefer ice cream, but this doesn’t mean they won’t eat frozen yogurt

vanilla or chocolate: Both prefer chocolate

caramel or butterscotch: Both like caramel

art or music: Alice falls on the art side; Victor falls on the music one (though he’s also an accomplished artist, and Alice likes his music a lot)

t-shirt or button down: Alice is more likely to wear a plain t-shirt; Victor prefers a button-down

text or call: I think both prefer text -- less pressure that way, and Victor in particular finds it easier when he can do a draft or two of what he wants to say

ghosts or aliens: Both prefer ghosts (and are more likely to encounter them everywhere except my Sims game)

Have they ever.

ridden a motorcycle: Depends on the verse, but I’ve stated in the past I like the idea of Secundus!Alice getting her own steampunk motorcycle and roaring through the streets with a mildly-terrified Victor XD Most of the time, though, neither of them have.

stolen something: Again, verse-dependent -- most of the time, I’d say no for both, but the Catch Us!pair probably steal things from their victims, and just for survival purposes, while Londerland Bloodlines!Alice will occasionally pick up “vendor trash” to sell to Fat Larry. (Not so much once she starts getting money from more legit sources, though.)

eaten an entire pizza by themselves: Alice, probably not. Victor, yes. XD (Though it was over an entire night)

made a prank call: I can’t see either of them being the type, so no.

broken a bone: Somehow, neither of them have. Victor is as shocked as anyone about this. (Though he has sprained his ankle.)

fallen asleep during a concert or movie: A concert? Not to both? A movie? Not in theaters, but I can see them maybe falling asleep watching a super-late movie one night at home. (Cute mental image, actually.)

walked out of a movie because it was so bad: I personally think they’d stick it out to give it the MST3K/Rifftrax treatment (quietly) unless it properly offended them. So neither has done so yet, but it’s a possibility.

been on the phone with someone for longer than 2 hours: No, if only because I can’t think of any situation where they would have to be.

dined & dashed: Traditional form? No, neither. But Londerland Bloodlines!Alice has occasionally had to just grab a convenient person to drink from when she was low on blood. Sort of counts?

held a gun: This is verse-dependent -- the vast majority, no. But I’m sure the Catch Us pair have used guns on occasion (if their victim has one to wrestle away, anyway), and Londerland Bloodlines!Alice learned how to shoot to protect herself on the mean streets of L.A.

ding dong ditched: I can’t see either doing this -- except maybe Catch Us!pair, or Londerland Bloodlines!Alice, as some sort of distraction while they do something else. (LB!Alice is a master of Obfuscate, after all. . .)

gone skinny dipping: Nooope for both. Nope no never.

cried during a movie: Yes, though Alice generally hides it a bit better than Victor. She’ll only openly cry if she’s alone, or with people she trusts (generally Victor, add in Victoria, Emily, Lizzie, Bonejangles/Sam, Richard, and Christopher depending on verse).

smuggled food into a movie: Alice would, Victor wouldn’t -- but only because Victor can consistently afford concession prices. And to be honest, he’d probably help Alice smuggle in food if she asked.

lied to get a job: No -- if only because neither of them has ever had to (Victor of course comes from super-rich stock, and Alice generally either has a job given to her/forced on her, or picks something she knows she can get without lying)

practiced lines in front of a mirror: Victor has, for when he has to be Social with his parents -- it doesn’t usually help much, as his anxiety gives no shits about how much he practices. I can’t think of a situation for Alice to do so, but maybe if she needs to rehearse something difficult to say sometime. . .

tried to see how many marshmallows they can stuff in their mouth at once: Not as of this writing, but somehow I think they might at some point XD

been kicked out of somewhere: Yes, though for different reasons -- Alice because she was making a scene while stuck in Wonderland; Victor because his parents were making a scene and he was “collateral damage.” Oh, and I guess Victor was essentially kicked out of Burtonsville in both Forgotten Vows and Secundus. . .and then decided he never wanted to go back anyway

been on a blind date: Does a blind arranged marriage count? Actually, in more modern verses, the two sets of parents WOULD set the kids up on a date without introducing them first, so -- yeah, I guess Victor has. Alice, no. 

ghosted someone: No -- unless you count Alice disappearing from Houndsditch as such in the “Catch Us If You Can” verse. Victor’s probably been ghosted once or twice by women who didn’t wish to continue their acquaintance. Not a pleasant experience.

bragged about something they haven’t done: Victor, no. Alice. . .edge case, as she’ll brag about stuff she’s done in Wonderland, not the real world. Which, considering the stuff she can pull off in Wonderland, I say -- let the woman brag.

said i love you without meaning it: No, neither. Alice only says it when she means it, and Victor has meant it every time he’s said it.

gotten in a fight: Yes to both, though how often depends on the verse. 

fallen asleep on a bus: I can’t see either of them doing it, if only because I don’t think either would ever feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. Too many people and not exactly plush seats are not conducive to rest.

Miscellaneous.

how do they take their tea or coffee:  Alice takes her tea with a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and a quick dash of milk; Victor puts so much sugar and milk into his it can barely be called “tea”

what is their ideal date: Depends on the verse, but a few favorites are going to the park on a picnic (Forgotten Vows and Secundus); either going dancing or staying at home for a private dance party (Cuddlepile); and going to the movies (Londerland Bloodlines). I’d also like for at least one skating date to happen in some verse. XD

what are some of their guilty pleasures: Alice has probably read and enjoyed some romance novels -- it’s a guilty pleasure in the sense of “Lizzie would probably never forgive me for reading these.” XD Victor, depending on the verse, has penny dreadfuls or comic books, which his mother disapproves of but he reads on the sly. He particularly enjoys superheroes and horror stories.

longest they’ve stayed up for: This would be dependent on verse, but I’m sure that both of them have stayed up at least one entire day for some reason at some point

greatest talent: For Victor, it’s definitely his piano skills -- he’s got a nice well of natural ability, and he’s put in the practice to get really good at it. For Alice, it’s storytelling -- she knows how to weave a good yarn, helped a lot by that active imagination of hers!

strange habits: Less “strange” and more “informed by her past trauma,” Alice tends to triple-check every fireplace in her current home to make sure it’s out before going to bed. Yes, it was deliberate arson that took down her family home, but she still gets antsy over leaving flame attended. She also tends to rock on her heels when in deep thought. Victor of course has his tie-pulling and general fidgeting when he’s nervous -- I can’t think of anything off the top of my head that he might have that is stranger.

first job: Alice’s would be her stint at Bumby’s -- she was maid and dogsbody in exchange for her keep and a smidgen of salary. Victor -- well, does helping his father do the books at his fish business count?

can they do a handstand: Alice probably could if she practiced enough, though I don’t know how long she could hold it. Victor could only do it against a wall, and even then he’d probably tip over after a couple of seconds.

can they cook: Yes -- they both have a baseline of “I can make a couple of edible items,” and improve from there. Victor in particular grows to like baking.

do they have allergies: Alice does not, but Victor is allergic to artichokes. Nothing life-threatening, fortunately, but it does result in an itchy rash all over his face and neck if he eats them.

do they believe in love in first sight: Alice never did -- Victor is willing to believe at least in attraction at first sight, thanks to his experiences with Victoria and Emily. He’s not sure about true love, though.

have any special talents: Well, I already mentioned playing piano for Victor, and storytelling for Alice. They’re also both quite good artists! Alice works in pencil, while Victor works in quill pen and ink. Victor is also a MASTER at climbing, thanks to finding that going vertical often helped him get away from his bullies growing up. And I’m sure Alice’s way with sarcastic comments must count too. :p

Tagged by: @hamelinbound

Tagging: Taken me long enough that I’m sure most people I would have tagged have been tagged. Take this as a general “if you want to do it, feel free!”

[ginnyzero]

Motivations to Write

In my last discussion post, Ideas, Squeaky Toys of Doom, I touched upon a few motivations of why people write. And I guess, it’s the next natural thing to talk about, once one has an idea, there has to be some sort of will to go forward with it, other than tossing it in the bin as useless. As in all things, from going to the grocery to store, to committing a crime, one must have a reason! And if you want to sound sinister (or overly legal) we call it motive!

Before I start meandering, the dictionary describes motive as an inner drive or impulse that causes one to act. A motive is an incentive. It’s the stimulus that gets us out of our chairs (or into them) and doing something. They are the reasons that provide us with the stress to change our ways. (Yes, I said stress. There is positive stress and negative stress, just like there is positive criticism and negative criticism.) Motivations affect us and can be as varied from “I need to eat” to “I have a dream.” Eating is something solid, dreams, are the exact opposite, ephemeral. And having both is important. (I’ll just leave this here.) Motivations are what take you from where you are now, to the future of where you want to be if you want it.

And motivations, these reasons, are as varied and broad and different as the people that come up with them. These are a few I know it. Whether or not the writers you know fall under them may or may not be the case. Just like there is no bad idea, there is no wrong motivation to write. At least, I’m not holding any judgements. And all of these can be combined and used to fuel each other.

Basic Motivations: Money, Fame (Power), Love

Firstly. Let’s get these three fundamental motivations out of the way.

Money, everyone wants to write a book and get rich just like JK Rowling. They want their own house, a swimming pool and a private jet. (Hey, don’t we all want to be rich. No judgement.) Or, you’ve got the other writers, who want to make enough money just to pay their bills and live comfortably. Money is a big motivating factor. The world seems to go around on money and it’s hard to do anything without it. We’ve all got to eat. We need roofs over our heads and as a society we’ve become very dependent on this thing called electricity.

Fame, and I lump fame with power. Writers, just like everyone else, want to be known. They want to be recognized. They want to leave behind a great body of work that people can come back to over and over again. This is a way to become immortal. Fame also brings other perks. Fame can bring television or movie deals. Fame has public appearances and interviews. Fame has people coming to you instead of you going to them. Fame gives you influence and power. Influence and power can change things. Some people like the idea of it.

And love, there are writers that actually just enjoy writing and want to do what they do. They love to come up with ideas, string together plots, hack through scenes and what characters grow and change. I feel, and this is just my feelings and opinions, that all people should love what they do in one way shape or form. And if writing is what makes someone happy and that’s what they like to do above all others, then that love can be a great motivation.

Now, there are five other motivations that I have thought of/remembered and there are probably many more, but these are ones that I see talked about by other writers.

Motivation: “I like this.”

These are the writers who just plain like a concept. I don’t think Louis L’amour and Zane Grey would have wrote so many westerns if they didn’t plain just like them. (Err, that was unintentional, and I’m leaving it. Homophones!) These are writers who will take their idea and just pound it into the ground until you have to wonder if they ever had another idea in their head. Brian Jacques wrote 21 Redwall novels before his death. Mercedes Lackey has written 30 tales in Valdemar (and as far as I know is still writing in that universe.) Jim Butcher is on his 16th Dresden File (of a proposed 28, I think.) And Anne McCaffery’s son has taken up where Anne left off in Pern. And that, ladies and gentlemen is just in science fiction/fantasy. To write that much material for one universe or genre alone takes dedication. Formula writers (by which I mean the structure of their story is the same for every single book/trilogy they write,) genre writers and romance writers can fall under this motivation.

But then there is the opposite.

Motivation: “I don’t like this. I want to see this instead.”

This motivation is often reactionary. This is the cry of disgust from every reader who has thrown a book across the room, got up and went to their computer and sat down and tried to write it better. There are also things that some writers just don’t want to see or write in their novels, so they don’t.

This writing can often be derivative. But you say, what writing isn’t? That’s a real good question. But this motivation uses a lot of things in the public domain such as Jane Austen, Sherlock Holmes, fairy tales and legends. Historical Alternate universe can also fall under this, such as ‘His Majesty’s Dragon,’ by Naomi Novak. In fact, I feel almost anything considered ‘historical’ can be considered this. A ‘I don’t want to see the battles of the war of the roses, I want to know about the love lives of the nobles instead!’

I also find that this motivation can also be used as sort of a research tool. For instance, when a writer likes things from two or three different (but similar potentially or even not) novels, but doesn’t like how any of those novels actually used their ideas. So, the writer takes the ideas they like, combine them into one thing and wah lah, they have their own universe to play in.

“I don’t like this, I want to see this instead,” is a huge motivation in fan works. A huge amount of fan work is either exploring romantic pairings that wouldn’t happen in canon, expounding upon things that weren’t seen in canon or even changing the setting completely and seeing what the characters will do. Continuations, prequels and the children of the main cast are all very common stories that happen in fandom. Given how huge fanfiction.net, mediaminer.org and AO3 are, plus the stuff on journaling sites, private sites (including forums) and tumblr and so on. This is a huge stimulus for people of all ages to write.

Motivation: “I have a story I want to tell.”

The ultimate, “I have something I want to talk about.” By golly, these people have something to say and they’re going to say it, whether you like it or not. They may have a message to get out there.

There is the personal side of this. These are the autobiographies, biographies and ‘based on a true story,’ writers. They’re using their story to spread a message or theme that they think everyone should hear. Which isn’t a bad thing, everyone who writes has a message whether or not they know it. These writers are just more aware of it than others.

Then there is the not as personal aspect of this motivation. These are writers that have a story in their head that they want to tell. And they’ve looked on the shelves and it’s not there, or it’s there in similar form but not how precisely they would do it. They see a void in the market place that they want to fill. Or sometimes, they just have a story in their head trying to get out and they need to get it out so they can move onto something else! There is usually a heavy dose of ‘I like this,’ involved in this type of writing.

Motivation: “I want to help others.”

Ah, the selfless motivation to write or the pretentious one depending on how you look at it.

This can go hand in hand with “I have a story to tell.” These writers hope that by telling their story that they can inspire, help or warn others. Stories about overcoming adversity. Stories about reaching out to others. Stories that show the bad side of life. Or conversely, the stories that show the good side of life. These writers want whoever reads their story to take away something from it, something that will hopefully make the reader a better person.

I have to say that a lot of Christian fictional literature falls under this heading. I’ve read quite a bit of it and not a lot of it has stayed with me, because there isn’t a lot of Christian fictional stories (or at least not when I was reading them) that focused upon walking the life of a Christian. They were usually much more focused upon converting the reader and if you’re a Christian already it feels like they are preaching to the already converted (aka the choir.) Or they were trying to show what a good Christian marriage was with varying degrees of success. Pick one.

And lastly,

Motivation: “I want to feel better.”

This motivation is where writing hits the pure emotional level. This type of writing is cathartic. It releases the feelings inside the writer and gives them a voice. A lot of emotional writing comes from a place of anger and despair. How the writer chooses to translate that anger and despair in their writing is up to them. There are those who will through the guise of writing graphically describe incidents that happened to them so that they can use the characters as a method of coping. They take back their power and control in their writing and use the fictional world as a cipher of the real world to change things. There is also the opposite, those who take that anger or despair and write silly happy things as a way of making themselves feel happier. It’s a way to make themselves laugh while in the undercurrents of the writing they are also often dealing with the deeper issues in their life. In emotional writing, an audience isn’t necessary and may or may not be helpful.

Emotional writing can go along with “I have a story I want to tell,” and “I want to help others.”

Now on the other hand, some people write dark, angry, disturbing stuff because they like writing dark angry disturbing things. And other people write funny silly things, because they like writing funny silly things and they don’t need to feel better. (So, I don’t recommend you call out anyone on the motivations for their writing if you feel it’s coming from an emotional place, because it may not be and you shouldn’t assume anything.)

A lot of these motivations for writing are the same as the motivations for publishing. There is a huge difference between writing something and publishing that something. Just because a writer creates a story, doesn’t mean that they will want to or are going to put it out there in a public manner. That’s their choice and no one should try to take it away from them.

Motivations are tricky things. They can change over time or be joined by other incentives. If you desire to write, there is no wrong reason to do so! They’re your reasons and no one has the right to call them bad ones. It might be because of one of the reasons I posted here or because of others. Whatever the reason is, we writers have to feed those Squeaky Toys of Doom and keep on plugging away.

[silverstoryteller]

Drabbles

So I have a bunch of, more or less random, 100-word snippets from various works that I figured I’d go ahead and post rather than letting them sit on my hard drive, No, they don’t necessarily all work as independent drabbles, but if you’re interested in me expanding on some of them, drop me an ask.

Dragonriders of Pern Slice-of-Life about a bluerider

His egg was the smallest in the clutch. He could feel the heat of the sands even through the thickest part of his shell, and he wanted to get away from it. He struggled and thrashed until suddenly, a light appeared, a crack in the wall. He pushed, and suddenly, his world fell apart around him. 

Oh! He wanted to stare, but there were more important things to focus on. He had to find his person. Now where were they…There! He nosed past several pushy candidates until he found the young boy standing nervously behind them. 

“His name is Tomaeroth!”

Reycis had wanted to be an engineer. He liked machines better than most people, and he thought himself well-placed in the Smithhall. He didn’t have friends, true, but the teachers liked him, and told him he would do well as a journeyman. That was before the dragons came. 

They appeared, dropping to land in the courtyard outside the Hall. They were looking for candidates; the situation at the Weyr must have been desperate if they were looking in the Crafthalls. Reycis had felt guilty about accepting the Search and leaving the Hall short an apprentice, but then he met Tomaeroth.

Tomaeroth snorted, but it was a happy sound. He looked out into the Weyrbowl. It was drenched in rain, and R’cis heard thunder rolling every minute. He had been worried for a moment that it would all scare the blue, still so young, but he was surprised to realize that the blue loved it. He stared wistfully. Can’t we go outside? It looks so fun! 

R’cis had to smile at that. “I doubt A’nar would allow that,” he said. The Weyrlingmaster was generally good-natured, but he wasn’t that easily swayed, nor did R’cis want to clean up a muddy Tomaeroth.

Cheers rang out across the room as the turn ended, and R’cis’s glass of wine clinked against others’ in a toast. A year since he’d Impressed Tomaeroth. Well, a turn and then some, actually, but R’cis and the other weyrlings thought it was close enough to celebrate the anniversary of their dragons’ hatching as well. 

R’cis felt Tomaeroth’s contentedness outside. He was lounging on a warm rock beside Thayroth, chatting idly while their riders celebrated. He looked over at Loret, who grinned back at him. He smiled. It had been a good turn; hopefully the next would be even better!

Loret was the first friend Reycis made when he came to the Weyr. There were others, but really, she was his best friend. She had a nice laugh, high and clear like bells. He liked to make her laugh. 

They stayed friends after Tomaeroth and Thayroth joined them. R’cis was both pleased and nervous when he learned he and Loret would be in the same wing. He loved flying with her, but he would hate it if he had to watch her get hurt. 

They tried kissing once, when they got their own weyrs, but…that…sort of thing wasn’t for R’cis.

Thayroth’s first flight was a short one, and Tomaeroth was very nearly outflown by an older brown, but the blue emerged the victor. Both dragons were happy at the outcome. Loret certainly seemed happy. 

R’cis didn’t know how he felt. Tomaeroth’s thoughts mingled with his own, radiating worry, and R’cis tried to reassure him. He turned around only to see Loret studying him. 

“Is it because I’m not a man?” she asked. He stared. Blinked. Of course that wasn’t it. If he wanted anyone, it would have been her. Wouldn’t it? He just…didn’t. 

Tomaeroth didn’t catch Thayroth the next time.

Ducking, weaving, flying beside and around the members of his wing. He had to be careful; the silver Threads were falling all around. Turn to the left, flame; turn his head back, breathe fire. He and His worked together like one of the fine-oiled machines His built in his youth. 

A large clump of thread was to their right; His signaled to Thayroth beside them, and together, the blue and the green wheeled toward the clump and roared. They turned it to ashes. Thayroth rose and burned a strand that was threatening him, and then they returned to their positions.

Tomaeroth was coughing up black ashes as they landed in the Weyrbowl after Threadfall. R’cis cast a worried glance at his dragon as their Wing began to disperse. “You all right?” he asked. 

The blue cleared his throat with a gravelly cough and snorted. Yes, I’m fine. The wind messed up that last flame, threw the ashes back into my face. All the Thread was already burnt away, though. I think I need a soak in the lake. 

R’cis glanced over to where the healers were inspecting injured dragons, but finally, he shrugged. “If you say so, then,” he sighed.