#sapphic levels through the roof

[ffverr]

X-Men x Revolutionary Girl Utena

I just HAD to do MAGIK in this style, it's sooo pretty!!

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Uh...super totally cool and not nerdy stuff....

Um nothing about the new discovery of Harrapan civilization shipyards at Lothal - the heart of the old south Asian civ.

And how that explains south Asian artifacts and more in cradle Mesopotamia and Egyptian sites and what that means for earlier old world trade, this stories, and back and forth religious perhaps influences too?!

Because it is officially now recognized as THE WORLD'S OLDEST PORT!!!!!

And they found foreign artifacts IN the shipyards too! So back and forth trade as well as obvy like mentioned the fact Indian artifacts showed up in the Persian Gulf coast.

But what's crazy is the fact there's networks of rivers and paths showing people traveled and traded TO Lothal (on their way) and then some from Lothal bought and traded onwards and some continued their journeys from there to Mesopotamia (today Iraq). That is huge!

Um...oh, and uh cars, and how to make a PVC tube snow ball when winter comes so I'm prepared to be the most dominant force on my block. Get rekt!

...also the history of sapphic pirates.

Oh, map representation of the water was from Nal Sarova and all the way up from Ahmedabad for how people could get to Lothal -- for some the boat trip was only two days on a boat with a little humped thatched roof over it.

Two days of river going comfortably and you could be at a trade epicenter (water NYC) then from there outward into the wider world to trade with other cradle civilizations. Idk if you get how fucking huge that is for a trader. Think about the stories traded back and forth, superstitions, myths, folktales, lives, and of course they money, goods, information. Learned people would travel ABSOLUTELY for the sake of knowledge and the new.

South Asia was home to the world's oldest residential university. Most of the cradle civilizations were more advanced than many give them credit for because they had built up the wealth/resources at the time to invest back into the collection and pursuit of knowledge so higher level learning through schools of various sorts and private tutelage and having just people dedicated to its pursuits (and libraries of course) all existed and could be funded/possible.

The old world was FAR more interconnected than people realize.

But this is freaking super duper cool.

The Silk Road maritime routes were absolutely documented. But that is a far way away from this period in time.

[prettylittlelyres]

2020: My Year in Reading

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- Part 6 -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

I also re-read “Midnight” by Jacqueline Wilson, which was even better than I remembered. My sister and I have been re-reading a lot of Jacqueline Wilson’s books recently, and, in doing so, have found that all our hang-ups about them were actually… just a bit twitty. They’re great stories, they keep you turning the pages, and the pure sass of some of the characters just goes right through the roof. “Midnight” however, is a story I’ve always loved – no silly hang-ups could ever touch it – in part, I guess, because Violet just feels so Sapphic-coded, and also because she had a room full of fairy dolls that she’d made out of love for her favourite series of books, “The Flower Fairies” (sadly fictional, but I would quite frankly die of happiness if Jacqueline Wilson wrote and published even one as a novelty!). That might seem an odd reason to love a book, but, when I was at primary school, I was obsessed with the “Rainbow Magic” books by Daisy Meadows (by several ghost-writers, actually, but I digress) when I first read it, and had my very own “India the Moonstone Fairy” doll, which my mother had helped me to sew! As far as I was concerned, I was Violet, minus the horrid (misunderstood) big brother, and plus a lovely (the best, actually) big sister. Didn’t hurt that I was a baby gay, either, and that I had a close friend who played dolls with me (and with whom I might have been a bit in love). I’m seriously considering writing to Jacqueline Wilson to tell her how much I adore “Midnight”, even at 22. (I’m just not sure how to do that without coming across as a sycophant.)

Somehow, I’d managed to forget how heart-breaking “Vicky Angel” and “My Sister Jodie” were (also Jacqueline Wilson), but re-reading them at the beginning of December brought all the Big Tears flooding back. I managed not to cry outwardly, but these books hit me hard! I loved the Gothic atmosphere of “My Sister Jodie”, though – it was quite a bit like “Midnight” – and all the references it had to “The Secret Garden” by Frances Hodgson Burnett (which I need to read, actually; I’ve only ever read the Ladybird version). The descriptions of Melchester College as the family sees it for the first time, and then looks around their living quarters, are great, such a strong contrast between this beautiful vista and the drab dreariness of life-behind-the-scenes.

I took December to make my way through my small (but growing!) library of writer’s craft books, with “Writing Deep Point of View” and “Fiction Pacing” by Rayne Hall, and “Writing Your Story’s Theme” passing a few hours on a rainy afternoon by reinforcing all I learned at A’ Level and teaching even more, and “Ghost Stories and How to Write Them” by Kathleen McGurl giving me a much clearer idea of how to craft something spooky, as well as how to market it. I don’t really write many short stories, but that’s something I want to change, so I thought it would be a good idea to start with some craft revision! Further to wanting to write more spooky stories, I also took December to finish “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James (more popularly known since the brilliant Netflix series as “The Haunting of Bly Manor”!), and the novel we were set in our French class, “Et si c’était vrai” by Marc Levy (the basis for the film “Just Like Heaven”, which I adore).

I’ve been trying to get into more subgenres of Alternate History and Fantasy, as I’m really enjoying “Kushiel’s Dart” by Jacqueline Carey, but I’m painfully aware that it’s Eurocentric in the extreme. I’m so glad I made an effort to push my reading horizons further this year, because I loved reading “Daughters of Nri” by Reni K. Amayo, and I’m looking forward to reading “Children of Blood and Bone” and its sequels by Tomi Adeyemi. I tried to read the first one two years ago, but my brain was mashed potato at the time, and I couldn’t concentrate on it at all. I’m doing much better now, so it’s on my reading list for 2021!

I also finally read “Alone: A Love Story” by Michelle Parise, which is the novel-version of a podcast with the same name. It helped me through a horrible time a few years ago and is just so beautifully written that – despite it being attached to some nasty memories – I really love it, and still listen to it to go to sleep. Obviously, I knew exactly what was going to happen, because it follows the same “storyline” as the podcast, but the book is just as excellent. They are both the author’s memoir, focussing on how she’s learned to enjoy living alone, being single, and carving out an independent life for herself. Suffice to say, it was the first step on my ladder to “feeling OK”. Steps 2, 3, 4… 10, 15… 86, etc. were spontaneous day trips to Winchester, where I would proceed to hole up in a coffee shop with a ball of yarn and a crochet hook, sipping tea while I worked, and tried not to think about what was making me sad. Those steps were not as good as the first one, and if I’m going to recommend you pick just one, I’d say, “Pick Step 1, and read or listen to “Alone: A Love Story” by Michelle Parise.”

For far too long, I’ve had “On Beauty” by Zadie Smith, and “The Returnees” by Elizabeth Okoh on my Kindle app (I don’t like Amazon, so I’m looking for alternatives!), and hadn’t read either one of them through to the end. I’d picked them both up on occasion, but only on short bus journeys, or while I was passing time, waiting for tea to cool; it made it hard to get into them, but I decided I’d sit down and read them both from the beginning, and not stop until I reached the end, and they’re both fabulous. I love Elizabeth Okoh’s painting of life in Nigeria, and as a British-Nigerian, and Zadie Smith’s lavish descriptions of everything are just wonderful. I can’t wait to see what Elizabeth Okoh does next (“The Returnees” is her debut novel), and I’m looking for my next read from Zadie Smith.

More speculative fiction finished off my reading in December! “Gone” by Michael Grant is perfect for fans of “The Society” (Netflix – please renew it! I would so love to see further seasons!), and “Q” by Christina Dalcher was deeply upsetting, but a gripping read. At last, I also finished “The Left/Right Game” from the r/NoSleep subreddit. I stayed up late, late, late, and then woke up early, early, early, to read the last chapters, on the morning of New Year’s Eve.

So, there you have it; a condensed overview of books I read in 2020. Condensed? Yes! Condensed quite a bit! This article is over 6,000 words long as it is, so I think I shall split it up into several posts, and queue them to be published, one per day.

I hope that I’ve helped you find something to read, or that I’ve reminded you of a favourite book you now want to re-read! Happy New Year to everyone, and may 2021 be much better!

[rayfollowsfromhere]

Sapphic September Day 2

The prompt today was Eerie, so our murder mystery takes a fun turn.

-.-.-

If it were social acceptable, Eleanora would proudly proclaim her hatred for small town America. The gossip, the forced community, the fact that you can't hide your bad haircut under a ball cap without everyone knowing. Yeah… big cities were just better.

Plain. Simple. Anonymous.

Odora was slightly larger than she expected. It had it's own bus station at least. Her hometown had only ever had a single stop on the Greyhand route. Odora also had more than one street, which probably explained it.

"I hate you." Eleanora said as she stepped off the bus. Dominique Davies stood on the sidewalk in her usual attire - pressed pants and tiny locks pulled up into a twisted bun. "Seriously, Davies, it's four a.m. Could you at least have the decency to look like it?"

Domi raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"I hate you." Eleanora repeated as she walked towards the woman. Domi's lips quirked up and if the two didn't have a long standing tradition of not laughing at each other's jokes it might even have turned into a smile.

"Come on," Domi nodded her head towards her car after Eleanora grabbed her bags from the bottom storage bins. "My parents have agreed to let you stay in their guest room."

Eleanora collapsed into the passenger seat, "If it has a bed, I'm down." The engine turned over and the two settled into silence as Domi drove through Odora and then through the county roads.

The Davies had a an easy dozen acres, though Eleanora had never been great at measuring those, and a traditional ranch home settled about a mile off the closest county road. It was blue, with white trim, and an idyllic weather vaine on the left side of the roof.

Eleanora didn't say she hated Domi this time because she might actually mean it.

She turned her eyes from the house to the fields. That's where she saw her. Oriana Davies. Eleanora had seen pictures of the girl as she'd grown up. She'd died a woman of 22, but she looked younger as she stood in the field.

Maybe she was. Eleanora had met more than a few spirits who'd taken on a younger likeness to themselves than when they'd died.

"She died here, huh?" Eleanora turned her eyes from one sister to the other. Domi's knuckles turned white as her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Yeah." Domi nodded sharply. Her voice had gone an octave higher. Eleanora didn't speak again until they were inside. Domi tossed her a set of keys, "My mom said you could use her car while you're here."

Eleanora could feel the grief pouring out of the hallway. It flooded the whole house really, but she had an inkling that the source was the master bedroom. It was…not quite surprising.

Domi's emotions were wrapped and sealed tightly within herself. A notable gap in the emotional fabric of the universe. Even now, Eleanora couldn't sense a thing from her. Usually things like that were handed down, strategies taught from a very young age, sometimes purposefully.

"You coming?" Domi didn't huff at her so much as growl. A very quiet growl. Since Eleanora had stopped in the entryway for several minutes she figured Domi had earned that growl.

The Davies home was just as big as it had looked from the outside. Big great room, big kitchen, all the boxes checked for the realtors. Two hallways branched off from the main area and Eleanora followed Domi down the left one to a room with southern exposure.

"This room is bigger than my apartment."

Domi chuckled, "The hall bathroom is bigger than your apartment." She bobbed head to the right. "It's next door."

"Gotcha," Eleanora plopped one duffle bag on the floor by the dresser and the other on the desk. The one on the desk clanked against the wood.

"What's all that?" Domi eyed the desk warily even as Eleanora flopped over the bed.

Eleanora raised her face from the lavendar scented comforter, "Do you want the honest answer?"

"My room's across the hall, two doors down." Domi ducked out of the room quickly, closing the door with a snap.

With a smirk, Eleanora rolled off the bed. Her boots hit the ground and she stood. There was a floor length mirror beside the dresser that Eleanora ignored when she passed it.

The duffel on the desk was filled with investigative tools. A cushioned satchel filled with camera lenses and scopes. Ammo. A couple of guns. A crystal ball. A few candles. And…

Eleanora pulled a metal box from the duffel. It was rusted, with a broken lock. Eleanora crossed back over to the dresser to open the bottom drawer.

With that settled, she pulled a lighter from her back pocket and a bundle of cedar tied with a red string from the duffel's outer pocket. It took twenty minutes to expunge the grief that had soaked into the walls. Another five to establish a firm barrier.

"I'm gonna need cinnamon if I stay here too long," Eleanora dropped the cedar back into its ziplock and shoved it into the duffel beside her .45.

-.-.-

Eleanora only waited until 7am to go see the sheriff. Mostly so she could take a nap afterwards and partially because she wanted to catch the man offhanded before word spread that she was here. Given the narrowed eyes he was leveling on her, she had succeeded.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man's hands moved to his hips.

"Name's Bond. Eleanora Bond."

His hand twitched towards his gun, but didn't touch it. Eleanora smiled at that. Here she was sitting in his chair, in his locked office, and he didn't pull a gun. She appreciated that sort of restraint in law enforcement.

"I'd like an honest answer." He growled the words. A real growl. Teeth bared and everything. He had very white teeth.

"Who's your dentist?"

His eyes fluttered for a second before closing. He took a breath. The worry lines on his forehead smoothed out, "Ma'am."

"Eleanora Bond is my real name, Sheriff Jones." She swung her feet off his desk and stood. She gave him her card, "I'm here about Oriana Davies' death."

Watching a six-foot-two-inches former defensive tackle scrunch up his nose at her pink card was the highlight of Eleanora's day. Nothing would top it, she was sure.

"And why is a P.I. from Nashville looking into a death in Odora?" Eyebrows were raised, eyebrows were lowered. The sheriff couldn't seem to decide what to do with them. "A death that only occurred two days ago at that.

"Three, technically," Eleanora sat on the front edge of his desk. "She was found two days ago, but she was murdered the night before."

He growled again. Eyes closed. "Ms. Bond-"

"I have a thing for brunettes," Eleanora interrupted him, her lips spread wide in a grin as she focused in on his face. "My girl, Sera, she's Domi's best friend."

One eye twitched. His lips pursed. "So…you're one of those…uh…" Eleanora raised one of her brows as she waited for him to finish that sentence.

"Lesbians, dad." A voice cut through the air with sarcastic glee. It was quickly followed by a teenage boy with floppy hair and an even floppier baseball cap. "They're called lesbians, and don't be an ass."

Eleanora perked up as the kid lifted an arm to rest on his father's shoulder. The sheriff's shoulders lowered.

"Right, sorry," The sheriff cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose that makes sense. Domi probably doesn't have much confidence in my investigative skills."

"I think she just doesn't like you," the kid drawled, grinning, "Mom says you use to a thing for her, got real weird about it."

Eleanora watched the sheriff take a breath, long and slow, before kicking his son out of the room. She waited till he turned back around to her, "I like him."

"I suppose someone has to," the sheriff sighed, but his eyes crinkled. Eleanora dropped from his desk. He startled back a step. "Ms. Bond-"

"Eleanora is fine, Sheriff." She smiled at him, patted his shoulder on her way to the door, "I just came to introduce myself. I know how small towns are about new people."

She winked at the teenager pouting at the deputy's desk. The kid perked up and Eleanora felt his satisfaction trailing after her as she left the office. A bubbly bit of emotion that buoyed her through the Davies house before she got to her room.

[akaanonymouth]

Excerpt from a fic I’ll write one day (or, the one with Berena and Jasia (is that right??))

So I have this idea for a fic that basically follows canon (somewhat) from Bernie’s first appearance, and inextricably merges the Berena/ Bernie arc with Zosia and Jac finally getting together. It’s so intricately planned, but so far, it’s all in my head, and I can’t find a concrete beginning.  Little snippets keep coming to me and won’t leave me alone, so Imma just leave them here, safe, until I can fuse them together in something vaguely resembling a story.

When he hears the door slamming shut, Ollie stiffens, and closes his eyes for a moment, trying to gather some equilibrium. He can feel eyes on him, but no one comes closer, so after a moment, he pushes himself up from the railing and turns.  “Dr. Valentine,” Bernie nods with a small smile, and though his heart plummets a little, he manages a lopsided grin, resting his back against the barrier.  “Ms. Wolfe,” he nods. She comes closer, leans on the barrier next to him, looking out over the grounds.  “Funny, it’s not often I see you up here,” Well, it’s not often that my sometime girlfriend tells me she’s fallen for our consultant, and cites you as a catalyst, he thinks. Opens his mouth and then shakes his head, lets out a whoosh of breath in a quiet, incredulous laugh. “It’s been... a rather funny sort of day,” he offers instead. Laughs quietly again and drags his hand over his face at the fact that it’s just got, incredulously, funnier. Bernie shrugs and snorts.  “Yes, I get that feeling.”  He turns his head to look at her fully, then. He studies her, completely, and finds himself completely unsurprised at the ease with which Zosia was drawn to the woman. He wants to be angry at the fact that he can’t, really, be angry with her, but he doesn’t quite manage that, either. Just a feeling of resignation.  She may have been the one blown up by an IED, but she certainly brought her fair share of shrapnel wounds, as though she was the device itself.  She looks up then, and smiles softly through her lashes. “Anything you want to share?” she asks. He looks to the sky, drags his hand once more over his face, debates spilling just a bit of the turmoil roiling in his stomach. Then, he remembers Zosia’s face, her earnest, unflinching honesty and trust. And really, he also doesn’t know where he’d start, where he’d stop, then; needs to work through things by himself before blurring it even further with the influence of the woman who apparently possessed a capacity to turn people’s worlds into the types of Sapphic tangles he thought only existed in soaps.  Major Berenice Wolfe, the Oblivious Catalyst. Honestly.  He’s grateful for the slight lingering hangover, making his facial features practically glued in a self-pitying expression, so he doesn’t treat her to a mime act of his thoughts. He turns to mirror her pose, leaning on the railing again, looking out over the Holby City expanse.  “Maybe one day, when it actually is funny funny, and not just... funny,” he replies eventually. She nods. “All right,” she says, gently, her hand briefly squeezing his with sparkling eyes, and Oliver quite suddenly finds himself having to blink rapidly, finds himself having to resist the urge to bury his head into her hoodie, wind his hands tightly in it, and cry and scream and rage until she made the world right again. Or at least, until mortifying embarrassment takes over and he’s ensured they’ll never be able to make eye contact again.

He coughs, awkwardly. “So, what brings you here?” he asks, brightly, and flinches at his tone. “Ah, well,” Bernie sighs, on the arse end of a deep breath. She shrugs, fiddles with the strings of her hoodie, wrings her hands together so much that Oliver worries she’ll lose a layer of skin. “How do you solve a problem like Serena Campbell?” he offers, eventually, when it seems that Bernie won’t ever find even a single word. Bernie’s eyes snap to his, wide and shocked and worried, and he stares back, kindly, until she goes back to gazing at the horizon, not quite relaxed but at least less arhythmic.  “How do you solve a problem like Bernie Wolfe trying not to mess up the wonder that is Serena Campbell, more like,” she answers, with a self-deprecating snort.  They stare out in silence for a while. Oliver hasn’t a clue what Bernie is thinking about, could hazard a guess, and this time the irony of their situation makes him laugh out loud. He can’t contain it for half a minute, but manages to sober within another half when Bernie looks at him askance and a little worried. “Is it funny funny already?” she asks, as he wipes at sudden tears that threaten to overwhelm him. He takes a few deep breaths, and waves off her concern.  “Tequila hangovers always leave my emotions a bit close to the surface, I’m afraid. Sorry,” She’s shrugging again, and at least keeps her eyes trained straight ahead as he composes himself.  “Hey, what happens on the roof stays on the roof. All right?”  He nods, and mhm’s, and then bumps her shoulder with his own.  “I held your heart in my hands, once upon a time, Ms. Wolfe,” he begins, slowly. Bernie inclines her head, her eyebrows raising.  “So you did, Dr. Valentine. Have I neglected to thank you for that, by the way?”  She hasn’t, but the post-op, pre-lucid conversation they’d had where Bernie had thanked him isn’t something he wants to revisit right now, is maybe something that he’ll keep to himself unless Bernie specifically asks, and he means specifically a s k s, because really, he’s quite certain that Bernie will never be entirely comfortable sharing that level of intimate conversation with anyone. Well, he’d definitely have said so before Serena.... which brings him back to her Serena Campbell statement.  He waves off her question with a noncommittal hand.  “I held your heart in my hands, Ms. Wolfe,” he repeats, and brings his hand down to rest on hers, squeezing hard before releasing it. “And, you know what, I reckon that there was a Serena Campbell-shaped shadow lurking there before you even knew her name.” They manage about five seconds of eye contact before Bernie bursts out laughing.  “Oliver Valentine, you incurable romantic,” she honks, fondly.  Oliver-inside-Oliver’s-head jumps up and down, wildly waving his hand in the air. Cured! Oliver bats him away.  “No, no, I’m serious. Look, if I can be so blunt; it seems to me that there’s never been a conflagration of events in your life that have allowed you to be completely happy. So you don’t know how to allow yourself. Serena Campbell is....” Oliver expels an appreciative noise. “... Is exceptional, and vulnerable, and open, and knows exactly what she wants. And she wants you. So maybe it’s time to stop thinking of yourself, and your life, as the problem, and maybe time to start living it as though you’re the solution. Stop living in the what ifs and could be’s, and just... live?” He shrugs, again. He’s never been all that good at advice, especially about love, and especially today. But he’s surprised at the fierceness with which he wants Bernie to just... be brave. Wants Ms Campbell to be just as happy. He rolls his eyes at himself; maybe Zosia’s turned him into a lesbian. Rolls his eyes again. Shortly, just before he starts to squirm, Bernie side-eyes him, and smirks.  “Brilliantly talented and attractive,” she murmurs. Oliver frowns.  “I’m sorry?” Bernie stands up straight, stretches out her arms and then rests her hip lightly against the barrier.  “When you described Serena. You missed out ‘brilliantly talented and attractive,” she elaborated. “She wouldn’t be happy,” Oliver holds up his hands in mock surrender.  “In any retelling of this conversation, please let it be known, that I took the statement as a given,” Bernie nodded vehemently. “I definitely heard it in there, if she ever asks.” They share a chuckle, then pull out their phones, and sigh, almost simultaneously.  “Once more into the breach,” Bernie mutters. They reach the door, and Oliver just knows that Bernie, the heathen, is about to actually run down the stairs. She winks subtly as she passes him holding the door.  “Thank you, Oliver. Anytime I can repay the favour...” He nods in gratitude, wondering, really, how that conversation could ever go, decided that maybe, one day, after two to many tequilas, maybe.  “Ms. Wolfe!” he calls, just before she breaks into a trot. He shrinks back a bit when she stops and pins him with an expectant look, and blushes profusely.  “Just... umm... just... trust your heart, ok? It’s a good one.” She salutes him, seriously, before carrying on on her way. He stands for a few seconds, shaking his head at himself.  Funny, funny, completely ludicrous, day.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Imagine if Reflekta and Princess Fragrance ran into each other.

Sapphic levels through the roof, they’re flirting

[drink-n-watch]

  Genre : Romance, slice of life, Yuri, supernatural

Length: (10 – 30 hours)

Studio: Liar Soft 

  We’ve all been there. You’re just ambling along, enjoying your middle school life, being all eager and careless and happy when all the sudden, bam – you realize people can be sort of jerky. So, you put up your walls and vow not to make the same mistakes in high school. Determined to keep your head down and stay out of people’s way until you can graduate and move on. At least that was Yuna’s plan and it was coming along swimmingly until a pair of very energetic, and meddlesome ghosts happen to cross her path as she was just trying to enjoy her lunch on the school rooftop. Now, not only does an increasingly exasperated Yuna have to deal with a couple of clueless Yuri ghosts but just to get some peace she find herself compelled to stick her nose into other people’s business and help the hapless young ladies of Shirojo academy find love with each other. I hate it when that happens…

Here’s a very odd random fact about me. I tend to prefer my manga/anime yuri (not moe…) and my VNs yaoi. There’s a bunch of reasons for that, mainly though it’s just because I haven’t had a lot of luck with the Yuri Visual Novels. Either they were super short, visual novellas if you will, and often not that interesting, or they were plain old hentai without any real character development or storyline to speak of. Not saying there’s anything wrong with that, just that I prefer my hentai…hands free… As I’m expanding my repertoire, this bleak vision of Yuri VNs is slowly changing. And for a while there, the shining gold standard for what they could be was Kindred Spirits on the Roof.

we’re No. 1!

First off let’s get the disclaimers out of the way. Although the great majority of the story is more concerned with the emotional and social aspect of Yuri relationships, the game does explore a little of the physical side and some scenes could be considered explicit (generally everything is kept above the belt). Moreover, if you’re new here – welcome! And also, Yuri means lesbians, so there’s that…

Let me say that I’m a fan of Liar Soft. Not the type of fan that knows things about the company, just the type of fan that’s played a few of their games and generally enjoys them quite a bit. They seem to put some emphasis on writing and have taken risks with very interesting narrative structure, grammatical styles and intricate storylines. Although their VNs are usually 18+, sexual content is almost always kept at a minimum and definitely not the point. Kindred Spirits is no exception, and a PG version could easily be made without losing too much, although I admit that I enjoyed the frank depiction of sapphic sexuality. I like the word Sapphic – I don’t get many occasions to use it.

vocabulary! drives the girls crazy!

In general, Kindered Spirits is a sweet, somewhat naïve, depiction of young love blossoming between teenage girls. The use of several couples with very different personalities and experiences was a nice way to get a more complete view and to give everyone a chance to find a favorite.

The innocent art style and casual romantic progression presents us with stories about love, community and acceptance rather than lurid tales of sex and to me, there was something very sexy about that. Maybe this is a more distinctly feminine way of looking at it, but all the little moments of anticipation, fear and excitement that surround actual romantic interludes count for just as much, if not even more, in creating an exciting fantasy.  

I wish I could whole heartedly recommend this game to anyone interested in the genre. Really it does a lot of things right. But there are a few shortcomings I can’t completely ignore.

just hear me out

On a technical basis, it’s a fairly wall made game. Good looking, fantastically translated and easy to navigate. A new fully voiced version has been announced but the one I played was only partly so, and the voice acting was hit or miss. This is in part due to the fact that the voiced scenes were few and you often got to know a character quite well before you ever hear their voice. As such, I had already created and associated a voice in my head for these people, and hearing something completely different created an odd dissonance (like hearing yourself on tape) that was jarring for me.

The soundtrack is decent but repetitive. What bothered me personally is the actual construction. The few choices you do have, have close to zero impact on the story but merely serve to unlock extra optional scenes. Now this isn’t unusual for a liar soft game but it also means that you have to replay exact same days over and over to pick every option and unlock every scene. This can become rather boring and using the skip text option makes you feel like you’re pushing buttons just to push buttons. Moreover the extra scenes are often a previous scene from a different character’s PoV, which is great but the exact same dialogue you’ve just read doesn’t count as previously played so you either have to manually fast forward it and risk missing something or reread long swathes of conversation over and over again.

this looks familiar…

Finally, considering the length there aren’t that many CGs. What I found most annoying was that there’s no easy way to track progress. No idea how many extra scenes you may have missed and where. For a completionist, this is heck!

There are also some thematic aspects I should warn you about. First, this is exploring romances of underaged high school girls. When they are dating each other, I found no issue with it, but one of the relationships is between a teacher and a student, and that’s just a big bag ‘o nopes for me. I don’t care that the teacher looks younger and is smaller or that the student initiated it, it’s still a concept I find difficult to accept at its core and I just couldn’t enjoy it.

As a slightly more capricious preference. I also really disliked the main couple. SLIGHT SPOILER KINDA…

you can just skip it if it’s that big a deal…

As Yuna, you play a helpful, slightly aloof but very capable girl who’s a little exhausted by all this romance nonsense. One of the rare relationships you do have is with your younger neighbor Hina. Right from the beginning, this relationship is portrayed as something parental. Yuna, cooks dinner for Hina and makes her school lunches. She frets about nutritional content. She makes sure Hina dresses warmly enough, nags her to do her homework and just generally mothers her. It’s completely one way. Yuna never seeks out Hina for help or advice, it’s always the younger girl who goes to her for comfort and reassurance. So when Yuna suddenly started having romantic feelings for her charge I was not on board.

See, I had been playing as Yuna so I kinda saw Hina as my kid as well. The moment Yuna started showing actual signs of jealousy over Hina, I was like: reign it in girl… this is NOT cool. I could never quite accept it. If I had my way it was team Ano 100%.

see – Ano is the best!

SPOILERS ARE OVER!!! Some things also worked out impressively well. The entire gay ghosts wanna watch girls get it on premise was shaky at best but Sacchi and Megumi themselves were very likable. By mid game Megumi somewhat candidly recalls her last minutes of life in her first year of high school, as her devastated mother is desperately trying to give her some comfort. There’s something shattering about how casually she talks about it and the moment haunted me (heh) for a long time.

Matsury and Miyu have been in a committed relationship for years and are running up against common problems that tend to affect most couples at some point. The tensions brought on by the clash of very different personalities as well as different levels of sexual appetite are handled deftly and discussed honestly in a way that’s just about unique to the medium. After all, we are far more interested by the courtship than the boring old relationship, so games almost exclusively focus on the wooing of new lovers.

you guys are all wrong – Youka rocks…

Although, I’m pretty much alone in this, I adored Youka. She’s the eager puppy dog archetype and I almost never see female versions. I loves me a silly deredere and I was utterly charmed. Also, she was pretty much exactly how I am when I get a crush. True story, I was discussing this game with a fellow blogger and I mentioned how much I loved Youka. They let me know they weren’t a fan before I got the chance to explain that it was because I identified so much with her…

Then, there’s the puzzle that is Maki. Well she’s a puzzle for me. I don’t like the kiddie types. Both lollies and shotas tend to get on my nerves, make me super uncomfortable in romantic contexts or just plain bore me in other situations. Sometimes all of the above at once. So I approached Maki’s character (the one on the couch with the pigtails) with a whole lot of doubt and prejudice. But man, this ball of unmitigated adorableness just stole my heart. I really loved her and enjoyed her storyline. Didn’t even cringe once. I really don’t know what witchery she used to enthrall me so but good work! Writing this type of character is very difficult so clearly, there were some talented authors involved.

and some talented artists

Finally there are the aspects that are just ok. There are no actual routes, you simply follow the various couples through intertwining vignettes. I did find the lack of actual romance a little disappointing. Most stories (except for the established couple) amount to one girl realizing her feelings, struggling with them for a long time, getting up the nerve to tell her crush, one kissy scene and one sexy scene – kkthxby. Maki and Miki have a bit of a longer courtship but it’s still no actual dating, more like getting to know each other as friends and the all the sudden – well kissy and sexy. I would have enjoyed a few more  moments, such as finding the perfect gift for your girlfriend or taking her out for a special evening. Arguably, maybe I’m just too lazy for coming up with my own romantic ideas and wanted to steal some… In any case, it did make the different couples feel like they were all having surprisingly similar experiences which takes away from the whole point of having such different couples to begin with.

WTL;IDNYFNR (that means: Way Too Long; I Don’t Blame You For Not Reading…)

Kindred Spirits on the Roof is not the perfect game. It’s not the best Yuri work out there. It has some obvious flaws that could really irritate people. But it also has a lot of strengths and if nothing else, it will give you a taste of the potential for these stories in visual novels.

and that’s definitely worth your time!

Favorite character: Youka – I already told you!

What this VN taught me: no one cares about your preferences as much as you do (or at least the shouldn’t…)

Booze takes a lot of time and effort if you’re going to do a good job with it

Suggested drink: a Pink Lily

Every time Megumi threatens to curse someone – take a sip

Every time we are reminded the ghosts can’t go somewhere – take a sip

Every time we are introduced to a new girl – take a sip

Every time Yuna cooks – have a snack

Every time you get a sexy scene – fan yourself

Every time Nena is sleepy – take a sip

Every time Youka talks about rock – take a sip

Every time Hina is popular – take a sip

Every time Ano is the best – cheer

Kindred Spirits on the Roof and The Potential of Yuri Visual Novels   Genre : Romance, slice of life, Yuri, supernatural Length: (10 - 30 hours) Studio: Liar Soft 

[duckerina]

When I thought I couldn’t get anymore queer, looking at the stuff from Heathers makes my sapphic levels shoot through the roof. Like, where has this musical been all my life?