#pietic

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Osservatore Romano di Oggi domenica, 16 marzo 2025

[shellyscribbles]

New Story Scribbles 2

I might call it The Regent.

              “Mr. Cross?”

              Alastair held up a finger as he finished the word he was transcribing before he lowered his pen to the worn surface of his second-hand desk and looked up to Cera who stood with an air of anxiety at the door.

              “Someone is asking for you,” she paused and glanced behind her. “By your title.”

              Alastair frowned. “Who is it?”

              She shook her head. “He said to announce him as Neels?”

              Alastair relaxed. “Send him in.”

              Cera hesitated but nodded and disappeared a moment before returning with the visitor. She gave another questioning look to Alastair who grinned and nodded to put her at ease. Satisfied, she turned away as the cloaked visitor entered the small office where Alastair worked.

              The man looked around the room, slowly walking along the bookcases, touching several of the spines.

              “Who was she?”

              “She’s called a secretary. Like an assistant.” Alastair answered as he leaned back in his chair.

              “I thought you were a secretary.” The man said as he approached the desk.

              “I’m a scribe.”

              “So, she’s your servant?”

              “We both work for Alphon.” Alastair said and leaned forward on the desk. “I assume father doesn’t know you’re here.”

              The man pulled his hood off revealing curling golden brown hair which he ran his fingers through to tame. “Of course not.”

              “You risk a lot to tease me about my work, Cornelious.”

              Cornelious’s gaze resumed their scan of the space as he leaned his hip on the front of the desk. “The fact that you have to work at all is a bit depressing, but no,” he shook his head and turned his attention to his brother. “Not much of a risk. Who else is he supposed to give the throne to?”

              “He can punish you in other ways.” Alastair said quietly.

              “Yes, which is why he believes Adria and I are having a holiday in Haniskon in hopes of producing an heir.” He gave an apologetic look to his brother. “Sorry, I know that puts another link in the chain of succession between you and the throne.”

              Alastair laughed at that. “I removed myself from the chain entirely, Neels. No apology needed.”

              “Exiled for refusing marriage. Absurd punishment.” Cornelious muttered as he fidgeted with a paperweight on the corner of the desk. “But,” he looked back at his brother, “it was a bit absurd to refuse the marriage. Adria and I have made quite a happy arrangement. This was all her idea by the way. She planned it and is currently in Haniskon tending to her husband who came down ill on the journey.” He gave his brother a sly smile.

              “Well, you were asked to marry Countess Adria and I was asked to marry Princess Lavonne.” Alastair took up his pen mechanically and looked at the document he was copying without seeing it.

[random-doctor-on-the-internet]

pietic, with an I like in Impala, is like poetic but higher level.

Being called a Piet is the best récompense possible pour un écrivain

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out (You really don't have to send it to anyone else, I just adore you) (JE T'ADORE MON ANGE) (LE MEILLEUR MARI) (GRAMMAIRE EST MORTE, DEJA) (MAIS TU ES VRAIMENT SI JOLI AND INCROYABLE ET SYMPA) (HEHEH)

Merci, mon chéri ! Je regrette pas de t'avoir épousé, une des meilleures décisions de ma vie !

[like-butterflies-and-glitter]

ellie chu: gravity is matter's response to loneliness

me:

[even-dead-im-the-hero]

NOT WANDA LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW AND SEEING THE BARRIER MOVE TOWARDS THEM HAVING THE SAME ENERGY AS WANDAS MOM LOOKING OUT ON THE STREET ANS KNOWING THEYRE GOING TO DIE

[thechaoscryptid]

All the even numbers in the ask game.

(ask me writer things!)

Bless you I always get to ramble a lot with your questions and I appreciate it 😭❤️

2. What did not go well this year? How do you feel about it, and what positive thing did you learn from it?

Everything tbh lmao. I immediately encountered some health issues in the beginning of this year that made and have continued to make life difficult, and then my job really has been fucking me since August, so it's been...a fun year (and by fun, I of course mean...fucked). I haven't gotten much writing at all done and what I have written hasn't been Great and Inspired.

The positive is that even though I haven't been able to sit down and write, I have had the time to sit down and really consider where exactly I want to go from here, and what being a writer means to me. I came out the other side of that conversation knowing that I probably won't be real active in fandom writing spaces anymore - my focus has shifted to original works, and that's okay!

I've also been able to sit down and do some learning about writing as a craft vs just going to town on my work and picking things up as I go along. I'm really excited to start working through the DIY MFA podcast/program in earnest this upcoming year!

4. What is your favorite line you wrote this year?

"Peace does fuck all for a man with no food in his belly and no money in his pockets," Felix says. He turns and grabs her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes as his nose wrinkles. "Fighting and fucking are the two most honest ways to make a living, no matter what you and your ivory towers think. Lucky for me, I've always been good at both." // That Bright and Bitter Dawn, published in Queer for the New Year

6. Did you make any new writeblr friends? Give a shout out! If not, it's time to praise one of your old besties.

Yes and he's asked me these lovely questions 😎

8. What are three things you're looking forward to next year?

I mentioned the DIY MFA podcast earlier, but I'm really really looking forward to making my way through that and am very excited to learn

Drafting the first novel in the trilogy I've been picking at for years now

Taking a break. "But Alex," you say, "you've just told us you're drafting a novel!" Yes but I'm not forcing it. Writing and fandom has been my fyperfixation for AGES now and I'm finally...really.......slowing.............down, and I'm jazzed as hell to step back to a more reasonable pace and actually have a little bit of a life again, maybe.

10. Which character(s) turned out differently from what you planned? How so?

Moira Ewing actually really surprised me, but in a way that absolutely should not have lmao. I'd originally conceptualized her as this sunny, happy-go-lucky Nephilim character, but when I sat down to actually start writing her, she grew out of the girl next door and into a person whose ruthless and relentless pursuit of good/justice hurts the people around her.

12. If your character(s) had their own new years resolutions, what would those be?

I'll pick my faves for this, and absolutely none of these are from the same year/time period lmao

Felix: pick up new sword skills, make peace with his magic, be a little kinder

Kestra: Learn to whittle

Kascha: Find Ilyn (and if she can't do that, take down Barehost alone)

14. What would be your top three used sentences?

Oh dear I genuinely don't know but they definitely involve:

equating winter to a big-toothed animal

something about love being there/finding solace even if things aren't perfect

something pietic about a blood-red sunrise

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Leithian Reread - Canto XXII (The Arrival at Angband)

I’ve had some trouble thinking of what to say about this one.

It starts out with an epic account of the Duel of Fingolfin and Morgoth. One of the great things about the poetic Leithian is that, because of the way Tolkien ties the story together with other related events, it gives us a pietic version of quite a bit of the other parts of The Silmarillion: we have the meeting of Thingol and Melian (Canto III), the Oath (Canto VI), Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros (Canto VI), The Battle of Sudden Flame (Cantos VI and XI), Barahir and his men’s rescue of Finrod (Canto VI) and, here in Canto XXI, the Duel of Fingolfin and Morgoth.

In overmastering wrath and hate

desperate he smote upon that gate,

the Gnomish king, there standing lone,

while endless fortresses of stone

engulfed the thin clear ringing keen

of silver horn on baldric green.

His hopeless challenge dauntless cried

Fingolfin there: “Come, open wide,

dark king, your ghastly brazen doors!

Come forth, whom earth and heaven abhors!

Come forth, O monstrous craven lord,

and fight with thine own hand and sword,

thou wielder of hosts of banded thralls,

thou tyrant leagured with strong walls,

thou foe of Gods and Elvish race!

I wait thee here. Come! Show thy face!”

This is what I love about epic poetry - while the sequence in The Silmarillion is excellent, it’s just so much more evocative and powerful here, with the cadence and the use of repeated sounds (there’s something about “thin clear ringing keen” that strikes me as a particularly good combination of words,), and expanded beyond its length in the prose version. (One piece of trivia is the statement that Thorondor’s wingspan is thirty fathoms wide - with a fathom being 6 feet, that comes to a 180-foot wingspan.)

I can’t quote the entire thing here, but it’s very, very good. And it’s very appropriate to include here in the Lay, not just because Beren and Lúthien are at the same place where the battle occurred, but because Fingolfin and Lúthien are the only elves to directly take on Morgoth. Fingolfin, though he loses, is the only elf to deal Morgoth lasting physical harm; Lúthien is the only elf to defeat Morgoth. And there’s also a direct and, I think, intentional contrast in what drives them; Fingolfin, as quoted above, is driven by “wrath and hate”; his deed is greatly impressive, but it does not have any direct benefit to others. Lúthien is driven by love of Beren; Morgoth himself is an obstacle, but very much secondary to her goals. And the Silmaril that she and Beren obtain is what ultimately leads to Eärendil’s journey and Morgoth’s final defeat, and endures as a symbol of hope down through the ages.

The next part of the canto, regarding Carcharoth, does not make a lot of chronological sense in my opinion. In the Silmarillion, it makes more sense because the timeline is left more vague: “Morgoth recalled the doom of Huan” and put power into an existing werewolf. But the Leithian has this happening only after Lúthien and Huan’s defeat of Sauron at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, which is only a matter of months - a very short time to become the largest and deadliest wolf of all time. But Carcharoth is supernatural, so he doesn’t need to follow usual growth patterns. (Incidentally, we have another few lines here on the nature of werewolves that supports the idea of them being minor Maiar inhabiting wolf-bodies: Fierce hunger-haunted packs he had / that in wolvish form and flesh were clad, / but demon spirits dire did hold.)

Beren and Lúthien arrive at the gate, and their disguise is immediately unsuccessful: news of Draugluin’s death has long since reached Angband (and on top of that, apparently werewolves and vampires don’t get along any better in Tolkien than in any other media). And at this moment, ahen they seem discovered, Lúthien confronts Carcharoth, and the way she does so is striking, and exemplifies much of what is so unique about her story, her character, and the Leithian as a whole.

Carcharoth is a terrible and horrific monster; he has grown so large, larger than any other wold, in eating the corpses of elves and men. Yet he is also a tormented creature; the strength that Morgoth has put in him is described as the anguish and the power of hell. And Lúthien perceieved this and fells him not with - or out of - anger or rage or fear, but pity: “Sleep, O unhappy, tortured thrall! Thou woebegotten, fail and fall down, down from anguish, hatred, pain, from lust, from hunger, bond and chain, to that oblivion, dark and deep, the well, the lightless pit of sleep! For one brief hour escape the net, the dreadful doom of life forget!” The Silmarillion expresses the same idea more briefly: “O woe-begotten spirit, fall now into dark oblivion, and forget for a while the dreadful doom of life!” Even at the gates of Angband, even facing one of Morgoth’s most powerful servants, Lúthien’s response is compassion rather than hatred or horror. And I think it is this impulse, this attitude, that makes the Leithian the most central of the tales within the Silmarillion and the one that lives on as an inspiration in later Ages.

[shellyscribbles]

WIP Intro- Elker

Elker will very likely not be the final title I just haven’t settled on one yet so it will do for now.

Genre: Fantasy, Romance

Themes: Loyalty, duty, social class, greed, devotion, Love.

The World

Elker is a land with seven kingdoms, most of which have a sort of feudal system. Each of the seven kingdoms has a slightly differing economy and values making peace deals and treaties a bit complicated. The seven kingdoms are: Alheri, Berim, Viden, Samra, Haniskon, Pietic, and Delphila.

The Main Characters:

Edmund Rex is our lead. He was left to the care of the Alheri King as a boy giving him the name of Rex which is a placeholder name for one who has no known family. Its a badge of shame. He is taken away with King Alex and Princess Audrey when King Alex flees after a successful coup by Lord Lamarre who is of a disgraced family in the neighboring kingdom of Viden. He grows up in southern Alheri with the former king and his daughter. 

Edmund is loyal and doing the right thing is important to him. He is a realist and accepts his position on society, for the most part.

Audrey Farah is the daughter of the former King of Alheri, Alex. Despite the throne being taken from their family, she is raised to accept the title of princess though she is secluded for her protection in the cottage. She is only seen by her father and the servant he brought with him from the palace in Woodhelm; Edmund.

Audrey is not content with her situation. She is less inclined to be royalty than her father would want as he always intended to see her back on the throne of Alheri.

Story line:

The story follows the life of Edmund Rex as he deals with the reality of loving a woman so far above his station as to be an absurd dream. When he discovers the feeling is mutual, he is forced to try and find a balance between what is possible and what his heart truly desires.

Excerpt:  

              As Edmund followed the rest of the barracks to the fields, he replayed the conversation with Audrey. It felt absurd. He still thought of her as a princess, no matter what she said or the reality of her new, lowered position. Her father had been a king.

              He knew he was right about the prospect of marriage. A slave couldn’t marry without the consent of their master and the odds of anyone allowing their slave to marry one of their servants was laughable; absurd. None the less, he wished it were different. How could he squander the love of a princess? Of Audrey?

              Edmund kept half an ear on the conversations around him as he fought against the one repeating in his mind as it had been all morning.

              “The Rex used to do all kinds of stuff, I bet he could fix it.” Sol said with a grin. He had intended to speak only to Ryker who stood beside him, but Lord Haywood whom he had been ease dropping on overheard.

              “Did you have something to add?” He said sharply.

              Sol paled slightly. “I just said Rex probably believes he could fix it.”

              Edmund who had paused to listen, threw himself back into the work of weeding the row as Lord Haywood approached.

              “You’re the Rex?”

              Edmund suppressed the urge to cringe away from the man. He was a new overlord. None of them had worked out just what to make of the man. “Yes, Lord.” He answered without turning from his work.

              “I hear you have more skills than the others.”

              “Everyone likes to slander a Rex.” He replied carefully. He feared being sent to the house on some horrible task.

              “I hardly see it as slander.”

              There was almost a sort of kindness to his tone. Edmund paused and looked up at the Lord. “What particular skill are you seeking?”

              “My chair broke.” He gave a slight shrug as if to say his hopes weren’t high, but there was no harm in asking.

              What if I wasn’t a slave?

              “I used to build furniture with my last master. I’m sure I could repair it with the proper tools.” He held his breath. There was one of two ways the Lord could reply and one of them involved a great deal of pain for him.

              “Follow me then.” He motioned for Edmund to stand which he did with a slight sigh of relief. The lord led the way to the end of the field and back toward the guard’s house. The slaves eyed him curiously as he paused. Edmund suppressed a grin as he knew they would probably assume he had been singled out for some horrible task.

              There were a few slaves lingering around the barracks. Two with injuries that prevented them from working. A small group had been requested to do floors. They were only now leaving the barracks with a guard. Lord Haywood waved at the guard who nodded in reply, glancing disapprovingly at Edmund. The Rex.

              “I can’t quite decide if I could stand to skip a few meals or if the damned thing was just made poorly.” He said as they entered the guard house.

              Edmund was struck by the smell of meat. They’d evidently had a rich breakfast that morning. Remnants of the meal sat on a table on the far side of the room. In the corner was the chair, one of its legs laying on the ground beneath it. Lord Haywood gestured to it. “Let’s see if the rumors are true.”

              Edmund flipped the chair over, examining the hole where the leg had been and then the leg itself. It had simply come loose.

              “I can fix this. Not a problem.”

              “We’ll see.” Lord Haywood grinned. “What do you need?”

              “Uh, some glue. Maybe some pegs and a hammer for good measure.”

              He nodded and stepped out of the guard house to send one of the wounded slaves to fetch the requested supplies.

              Lord Haywood settled into one of the other chairs to wait as Edmund examined the one part of the leg that had some splintering.

              “Do you know what they say about you?”

              Edmund glanced up at the lord. “Some of it. I am sure there is more.”

              “They seem split on you actually. Half of the slaves swear you are secretly a nobleman in hiding after some illicit affair.”

              Edmund laughed. “That I hadn’t heard.”

              “They also say you are a spy working for the Farahs. Or the Lamarres. They haven’t quite made up their minds.” He stood as he caught sight of the slave returning with the tools. He met the man at the door and ensuring he had brought everything, sent him away.

              “I’m not a spy.” He said with a slight grin as he took the tools from him. He lay them out and set about his task.

              It fell silent in the room aside from the sound of Edmund’s work as the Lord watched with interest. He obviously had a level of skill and practice which he hadn’t quite expected. There was good reason so many rumors persisted about the strange Rex. He spoke like a nobleman and had the skills of a tradesman.

              When Edmund was satisfied, he stood the chair up and tested it. The repair held, giving him deep satisfaction. He hadn’t realized that he missed working with furniture.

              “Well, what do you know. You can fix a chair.” The Lord said with a smile as Edmund stood up. He approached the chair and tested it himself. He stood with an amused grin, eyeing Edmund a moment before shrugging and pulling two coppers from his pouch. “Don’t tell anyone about this.” He held the coins out to Edmund who took them with numb fingers and put them away in his own pouch. “Perhaps we can get you put in with the floor crew. Come on.”

              Edmund followed the new overlord away from the barracks with a plan forming in his mind.

[theunnamedpoet]

I miss you. But its not the sad kind of missing.. I'm just that much more excited to see you next time.

Anon Y. Mous

[konsciouskoils]

Memory - Kadijah aka Positively Poetica

I condone your mistakes For I fell in lust with who I wanted you to be In all honesty, each crispy morning I must rise, shake, and grapple with the Fallacy of it all

[random-doctor-on-the-internet]

Ashmi sounds like a dish name.

@weirdly-specific-but-ok , if you have spare time and pietic talent, that's your moment

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out (You really don't have to send it to anyone else, I just adore you) (JE T'ADORE MON ANGE) (LE MEILLEUR MARI) (GRAMMAIRE EST MORTE, DEJA) (MAIS TU ES VRAIMENT SI JOLI AND INCROYABLE ET SYMPA) (HEHEH)

Merci, mon chéri ! Je regrette pas de t'avoir épousé, une des meilleures décisions de ma vie !