#scenesetting

[sllvertongue]

@wraithgaze.

one more for the count. gaenari purrs under his weight as gwisin watches his last competitor take it up with tonight's referee. it's getting heated, so far as he can tell - someone's voice hikes over the crowd, whining now. how the fuck did he win over me? sin hums, taking the cue to start pushing his bike through the last rind of the crowd. it's been a busier night, and in the aftermath of a race, he can see people splitting off into more groups than usual. a few of them see him coming and scurry out of the way before he pushes his bike right over someone's foot again, but for the most part they're like seagulls to crumbs, snatching up their earnings. any other night, he'd be right in there with them demanding his share. before, he means— before, when he needed it. these days it's the air he needs most, the skull-numbing wind whipping against his cheek to shear down whatever bullshit haeran put up with that day. out of the corner of his eye, he spots the only figure he'd been interested in interacting with all night. oh, and this too. he approaches, mouth curved meanly behind his mask. when he's close enough, he nudges his bike onto its stand and unlatches the dark helmet from his chin. with practiced efficiency, he yanks his irritating strands of hair back into a half tie. "decent pools tonight?" he feels the words feed through the voicebox, twisting and stretching the wavelengths of sound beyond recognition. it was the high grade shit, though, he'd made sure of that, never would've picked anything that would lose any tone in translation. any pride. "or maybe a better question would be how much you just lost, hm?"

[mylordshesacactus]

🦋 💞 💋

what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

leave comments you animals

what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Characters are always the most important part of a story, and that goes triple for accurate characterization in fic. Strong characters will carry a weak or even nonexistent plot (slice-of-life fic is really popular for a reason!), grammar issues or typos or slightly clunky scenesetting are only mild annoyances if the characterization is rock-solid (and frankly if you're good at writing natural-sounding dialogue, odds are the rest of the technical writing is mostly good too), and even off-the-wall or "I fundamentally do not agree with this" worldbuilding can be rolled with if the characters are solid--it basically becomes an AU, and we all love AUs.

But if your characterization is bad, or generic, or just She Would Not Fucking Say That, literally none of the rest matters. It's all set dressing.

when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

Only if they have something to say!

[expfcultragreen]

I like the scenesetting irony of the one dude saying he doesnt like nadsat

[nicotga]

I find that the smaller text boxes in this style allows people to focus more on the characters and their actions and emotions in each page. Whilst it also makes people more attracted to it so they will read more, as too big of a text box can take away from the actual art unless it maps it away around it and some how fits with the rest of the page.

(Link to comic: Presto and the Gang - Chapter Archive)

This is an example of were the text boxes are bigger and work well to fit with the rest of the page, without taking away from the rest of it. The colour used in the text boxes also work with the atmosphere, as it is a brighter atmosphere whilst the example before has black boxes with white text to show that there is a darker atmosphere to the surroundings and the characters themselves.

(Photo from Lumine on Webtoon)

This is an example of were there is more art than text boxes within the comic. With the very first chapters of this comic series though it did use to have more text boxes within it, but once the author developing along with the comic, there became more pacing within where the text boxes where placed.

-----------------------------------------

Types of Text Boxes:

Captions: These are boxes containing a variety of text elements, including scenesetting, description, etc.

Speech balloons: These enclose dialogue and come from a specific speaker’s mouth; they vary in size, shape, and layout and can alternate to depict a conversation. Types of speech balloons include those holding:

External dialogue, which is speech between characters

Internal dialogue, which is a thought enclosed by a balloon that has a series of dots or bubbles going up to it

Special-effects lettering: This is a method of drawing attention to text; it often highlights onomatopoeia and reinforces the impact of words such as bang or wow

[samlotfi]

Sometimes (used sparingly) a well-suited insert shot is all that's needed to set the atmosphere, mood , or scene. Don't underestimate their value in storytelling. #samlotfi #comics #art #ink #drawing #comicbook #storytelling #atmosphere #mood #scenesetting #stoplight #rain #night https://www.instagram.com/p/BorcSU2HUIL/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=18j597wtb6bj4

[omniscientoranges]

CASTIEL | 6x20 The Man Who Would Be King

[sharonfacinelliactress]

#scenesetting #rehearsals #virtualrehearsals #Writetoright @directorscuttheatre @simon.bass.50 #workwithwhatyougot #sets #newscripts #actorsinisolation #actors #directors #producers #writers #playwrights https://www.instagram.com/p/CAdVIjSAxpw/?igshid=16nlx6n4rkxvx

[photoartteach]

#themarvelousmrsmaisel #sceneset #scenesetup #scenesetting #scenesetters #setscene #setthescene #scenesetphotography #scenesetups #scenesettersrentaldecor #dodgeauto #hitchingaride #showroomcondition (at NYU SPS Schack Institute of Real Estate) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwhToOBArTU/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=tngcxjtgszej

[toolilyish]

Sale cityscape ... Now to add the characters! #cityscape #town #shops #sale #workinprogress #sketchbook #illustration #environment #scenesetting #monoprint

[jessejunkocreates]

Sacred spaces squeezed into tiny places. A mini Buddhist prayer flag from @wolfwater, a poem from my husband, a photo of us and our first wedding card (hidden) framed, a seamstress themed teapot - a gift for Themis and Thread’s 5th birthday from a great supporter, an @akenehiproducts candle, wooden flower arrangement by @anchoredwishesgifts, a teacup from my grandmother, tiny glass spool of thread and an even tinier sewing machine miniature both from @sdtrainingteam, @maddywalshandtheblindspots matches and palo santo from a women’s gathering with @hilarydavisyoga atop the first (honestly - maybe only!) piece of furniture I ever bought myself. This calm corner is hard to get to and surrounded by mayhem in my sewing studio. I need it. I love it. Sacred spaces, designed just for your spirit are so valuable. Do you let yourself take up space just for pleasure? I’d love to see if you have an altar or scene that brings you joy! 🪡 🧵 🕯 🪶 🌸 . . . #sacredspaces #tinyplaces #sceneset #scenedesign #altar #createanaltar #takeupspace #tinythings #office #officespace #miniatures #calmcorner #specialthings #eyeofthestorm #studio #sewingstudio #seamster #wfh #homeoffice #workfromhome #bossbabe #smallbusinessadvice #workfromhomeadvice #celebrateyourself #radicalselflove #afewofmyfavoritethings #setting #stilife #setdesign #showyourshitoff (at Themis and Thread) https://www.instagram.com/p/CIYLDgGjMqo/?igshid=l1vv4e0ws43m

[marvel-m-lee]

OK GREAT!! WELL THEN HERE IT IS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

(I switched it to be Lee!Bruno and Ler!Camilo)

Apologies in advance for the long buildup- I love scenesetting

- -

Camilo was still pretty new to the idea that his tío quite literally lived in the walls for 10 years. As far as he knew, he thought Bruno had run away to the mountains, or fled Columbia entirely. But the thought that he never truly… “left” was intriguing to him.

As any fifteen year old boy would be, Camilo was curious to see where his uncle had spent that long decade.

Surely not just wedged between layers of wall and insulation,, right..?

-

The day these questions wracked Camilo’s mind was a chilly day at La Casa de Madrigal. Breezy and overcast. Camilo walked the second level of Casita, scanning the walls for possible places that Bruno could have hidden for so many years.

The wind carried under the shifter’s ruana and made him shiver.

‘Ok it’s way colder than I thought out here- I’m gonna call it a-“

As he reached for the doorknob to his room, Camilo noticed a painting on the wall a mere few yards away swinging oddly in the breeze.

He let go of the knob and shuffled over, carefully lifting the frame from the casa wall.

A large hole in the wall took shape beneath the painting, and Camilo’s eyes widened, a renewed curiosity in his eyes

“There’s NO way…”

He took a few quick glances around, and hopped through the wall, landing squarely on a creaking wooden platform.

“Hello-? … Tío Bruno are you there?”

He called out for his uncle. No response, just a dark, dust clouded passageway.

Camilo turned toward the hole he jumped through briefly, then spun back around and continued down the corridor.

The tunnel was long and echoey, littered with a few rats that squeaked up at him to greet him.

Soon enough, Camilo reached a large gorge in the floor that could only be jumped across. He knelt down to try and determine the depth and deadliness of the crevasse, then stood up, and took a running leap, yelling as he bounded over the hole.

His ruana caught on a plank of wood juttting out from the wall, and his jump was cut short, and he held onto the plank he was caught on, dangling over the void “AH- BRUNO HELP!!” He called, knowing that his tío had to be somewhere nearby. He heard footsteps growing louder, until just up ahead, he caught a glimpse of his uncle running toward the gorge. “Camilo!” Just let yourself fall! I’ll catch you!” Bruno leapt into the hole in the ground and Camilo unhooked his ruana, took a deep breath, and let himself drop.

The boy landed right in his uncles arms, and was placed on the ground promptly after. “Holy shit… holy shit… why haven’t you gotten that fixed?! Why are yo- is THIS where you’ve been living all this time Bruno?!… Bruno..?” Camilo turned to Bruno, who was leaning over himself, with a hand over his torso. He seemed.. in pain..?

“Tío..?”

Bruno looked up at his nephew, smiling and laughing nervously. “Heh.. I think I uh- I think I scraped myself up on that wood sliding down here-“ he removed his hand from his chest to reveal several rips in his ruana and brown undershirt, followed by some decent scratches along his midsection.

- - -

“What we’re you even doing in there Camilo?” Julieta inquired, handing her brother a paper wrapped arepa.

“I dunno- I was just bored.. and I found this hole in the wall and I wanted to find where Tío had stayed for all those years. I didn’t know there’d be so many holes in the floor” Camilo huffed

Julieta shook her head with a smile, patted her brother and nephew in the head and started towards the door. “Camilo, take your Tío’s ruana up to Mirabel’s room so she can fix the tears.” She added as she passed through the door.

Camilo folded the tattered garment and set it aside, and picked up a bowl of warm water and a rag, walking back towards Bruno, who was seated on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs aimlessly.

“So that’s your home- or- WAS your home, huh?” Camilo asked, dipping the rag into the water.

Bruno nodded awkwardly. “Yeah- a decade of my life was spent back there. Kinda homey, if you can believe it!” He laughed

Camilo offered a quiet laugh in return, dabbing the cloth against Bruno’s chest, soaking the ripped shirt in water, but picking up some of the blood and debris from his wound. Bruno tensed and backed away quickly. “Oh! Does that hurt? The water too hot??” Camilo pulled away, looking at his uncle, scanning for signs of discomfort, and softening when he saw a smile on the prophet’s face. “Noho- no it- it doesn’t hurt… per say- but it doesn’t- it’s not-“ Bruno struggled to word his sentence. “You know,” Camilo dipped and re-soaked the rag and pressed it again on Bruno’s body, missing the wound completely. “There’s no shame in living in unconventional spaces-“ he lightly patted the rag again, this time closer to Bruno’s ribs, to which Bruno jumped.

“uhunconventional?? Whahat?”

“But it wouldn’t hurt to do. A little. Maintenance!”with every word, Camilo pressed the rag in a different spot, making Bruno tense and bite his cheek, holding back a laugh.

Camilo took a step back, and looked his uncle up and down. “You wouldn’t run so much of a risk of getting hurt if you’d keep your floors intact!”

“Ihihi’m not hurt! I feel much better now thank you- see!”

Bruno took a bite of the arepa in his hand, and the wound on his chest sealed itself shut and his skin healed to normal. “Mmm! Look at that! All better!” Bruno spoke with a mouthful of food.

Camilo laughed at his uncle and began approaching him, hands up in front of him

“Well we should make sure nothing else is sore or in pain too, don’t you think??”

“Kiddo I’m fine!! Ihihi prohomise you!”

Without a seconds notice, Camilo lunged at his tío, knocking him off the counter and onto the floor. “Hmmm ok so where to check first… oh! How about here! I’m pretty sure you took some damage to your ribs no?”

Camilo dig into Bruno’s ribs, one at a time, “making sure there weren’t any sore spots”

“CAMILOHOHO!! NOHOHO! NOHOTHING HURTS MIJO I PROMISE I SWEAHEHEAR!!” Bruno wriggled under Camilo’s touch, trying his best not to flail and hit the boy.

“I know Tío I know!! Just let me do a little checkup for you!!” The shapeshifter said sweetly.

“Ok your ribs seem fine. Now how about here?” Camilo poked sporadically at his uncle’s stomach,

“nonOHOOOHOHO!! I DIDNT EHEHEVEN HURT MY STOMACH!! PLEHEHEASE!!” Bruno reeled his head back and kicked his legs out, desperately trying to wiggle off the electric feeling. Suddenly, Bruno made a high pitched squeak, and Camilo stopped for a moment to see what had happened. His hand trailed up to Bruno’s armpit, and was being pinned there by the man’s tensed arm. ‘Jackpot’ he thought. “Oh! Looks like something’s wrong here” Camilo smirked.” Let’s take a better look then shall we?” He asked as he gathered his uncle’s hands in one of his own and held them above his head.

“Camihihiloho please- I prohomise there is nothing else wrohohong- AHAYE!!”

Bruno practically kept out of his skin as Camilo dug five fingers into the hollows under his arms, staring down at the area, as if to inspect for injuries. “Man! Seems pretty damaged in here! You sure you’re not hurtin’ tío?” He asked aloofly

“I-IHIHI- AAHAHA CAGAMILOHOHO NOTHING HURTS I SWEHEHEAR!! STOHOP! PLEHEHEASE!!” Bruno cried, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Sensing that he was at his limit, Camilo let off and stood up, reaching a hand down to his uncle, who took it and was hoisted back to his feet.

“Too far?” Camilo asked with an innocent smile

“Nohoho, just a little unexpected is all.” Bruno fumbled with his messed up hair and shook it to get it back in place.

“What was all that fuss?!” A voice from the door called to the boys in the kitchen. Julieta reentered the room with a few dishes in hand. Camilo took a deep breath, ready to tell his aunt all about his ticklish uncle, but turned and looked at his uncle’s nervous expression and simply said “just making sure Bruno was in mint condition, that’s all!”

——

GOD THAT WAS SO LONG

Sorry for the delay, probable typos, and the LONG read-

I hope you enjoyed it tho!!

AGHHHH

AGHHHHHHHHYY

THAT WAS AMAZING THIS IS AMAZING LH MY GOODNESS AGH BRUNO AND CAMILER. plus the teasing 🤌🤌🤌 PERFECT. PERFECT. EEEEEEE

Watch me be sick from cuteness omfg-

[kitchen4bachelor]

#kuchmeethahojaye jab dil me aata hein mughe bas jalebi yad aata hein.. 😋😋 . . Now that is called mouth watering Indian desert made with sugar syrup 😋😋 . . Tag your jalebi lover freind 👈 #sceneset . . #jalebi #indiandesert #sugarsyrup #sweets #yummmmmmm #cravingshungryformore #bangalorediaries😍 #foodblogging #bloggerstyle #indianfoodies #myfoodstories #tasteofindia #foodwithfriends #sodelhicious #kolkatastreetfood #foodpic #foodoftheday🍴 #foodtravelstories #trulyfoodie #foodgasmic #instafoodies #foodtraveler #tasty #tastebud (at Bangalore, India) https://www.instagram.com/p/B70Mtyil45Z/?igshid=1g71l2oolrub6

[mylordshesacactus]

Ok so given that I always figured “look to the sky with hope” was a reference to the dc comics blue lantern oath, i have to ask for a commentary on that one (or, if it’s to large, maybe just the first chapter or two?)

Ooo, I can do the first chapter!

The first chapter is really mostly scenesetting, which is an odd thing to say about a chapter where so much plot happens. But really, the main job of the first chapter was to establish what the world is like and who our main characters are.

So of course we start two feet down and running, with Ahsoka getting into Wacky Hijinks involving gunfire, parkour, and failed attempts to charm the nearest pretty girl. That links directly into our first meeting with Barriss, establishing her as clever, cool-headed in a crisis, and possessing some interesting skills, as well as touching on her relationship with her mother--clearly close, warm, gently teasing, and extremely important to both of them. 

(Since we won’t see Barriss’ mother again until we uh....see Barriss’ mother again...it was essential to give the readers a really solid grasp of their relationship right off the bat, so that later revelations would hit.)

Then of course the next most important thing now that I’ve set up the main characters is to introduce Ahsoka’s crew, which also gets us into the main plot by establishing what their mission here is--we’re doing some piracy folks! The Resolute attack is...well, I mean, it’s a PotC AU, so obviously Ahsoka’s old ship has to show up ASAP. But it also serves to set up the idea of Ahsoka not being in a great position for a pirate, which she isn’t--Ahsoka is NOT an underdog in the pirate world, but with her brother not talking to her, even the Princess of the Dead Sea can find herself in a tight spot. And, of course, we don’t know how important she is yet--that’d be frontloading waaaay too much information.

Of course the major narrative purpose of the Resolute attack is to push our main pair together. And in doing so, I was also laying the groundwork for another major thing--establishing Ahsoka’s moral center. There’d been hints of it from her POV in that she had no intention of actually harming Luminara when it wouldn’t do her any good, but this is the first hint of actual altruism as opposed to just...refraining from cruelty. 

Having established that the pirates sacking Port Royal are behaving viciously, in a way that Ahsoka’s people are alarmed by, Ahsoka very much endangers their lives by going back for the girl she knows is in danger based on her previous actions.

By doing that, instead of going with a vitriolic best buds or slap-slap-kiss kind of dynamic pushing them together, I think it smooths the way to establish Ahsoka’s backstory later in the chapter when Rex starts chatting with Barriss. Her behavior and moral qualms up to that point make it believable when we learn that, despite her rough exterior and general “hey, I’m a PIRATE, what did you expect” demeanor, she actually has a strong moral compass and was forced into piracy because she and her brother not only refused to be complicit but actively worked against slavery.

And of course having set her up as having a brother she was close to, that opens the door to launch into the Davy Jones storyline.

Which, like...I’ve talked about a lot. But I absolutely ADORE what I did with that allusion, honestly. Blending Anakin, Davy Jones, and Jack Sparrow into one character created something PHENOMENAL. Anakin’s tendency toward anger and self-sacrifice, his wild devotion to the people he loves, his hatred for slavery. Jack Sparrow’s backstory--branded a pirate when he was commissioned without his knowledge to transport slaves and instead freed them, and the EITC burned the Pearl to punish him--mapped perfectly to that. And then you combine it with Davy Jones’ curse. Instead of making a deal with the devil for his soul, Anakin makes a deal with...essentially, Calypso. The ocean itself. And it is for his soul, but the deal is the ferryman’s curse, not eternal servitude. For Anakin, the sacrifice is that to save his loved ones, he can never be with them. Never pass over into the next world. He can keep them with him, immortal, for a time, but...eventually, the ones he loves will move on, and in exchange for that stay of execution, he has to stay behind and care for the abandoned souls of the world.

(For the first time, I got my first REAL glimpse of what it must be like in the RWBY writer’s room. Holy shit. They are...so powerful.)

So of course, that’s the last thing the first chapter had to accomplish--establish the existence of Some Supernatural Fuckery in this setting right off the bat. No time to play coy about its existence--it’s gonna be the driving force of the rest of the plot. And condensing all three PotC plots to be happening simultaneously allows them room to breathe, and to bring in various Star Wars plots as well without drowning!

[myevilmouse]

2, 3, and 4. Thank you!

Having so much fun with these asks!  Thank you guys for asking me :)

So I answered #2 here

and #3 here.

But #4 we haven’t gotten to yet!

4.  Do you think your style has changed over time? How so?

The weird answer to this is I think I have less of a personal style than I used to?  The more I write the more I like to mess around with things, change my writing goals, or make conscious choices to, for example, write more scenesetting, more banter, more action, more introspection, whatever. 

I set ancillary tasks for myself when I fic to keep things interesting quite often.  So whether it’s borrowing specific vocabulary (like Shakespeare’s in Corporeal), imitating someone else’s style (like Pat Conroy’s in Comfortable), keeping canon dialogue intact (like Zahn’s in Uneasy Alliance), or setting a specific goal for a fic (such as this one HAS to have a particular kink/aspect/line), I think I’m stretching and flexing and bending my style.  I am always curious if people think there is an “evilmouse” style that marks my fics, so if you’ve noticed anything evolution-wise, let me know!

Thank you so much for the asks

[cursedandcarried-blog]

@iudexes

Their father’s ruined chamber beneath the gardens held more secrets, and it’s with a great amount of hesitance that the two of them venture back down there. The smell of putrid dragon flesh still lingers, as well as the acrid reek of the toxins still brewing in the gullies above. 

Lorian crawls through the fetid muck pooled between the tiles and weeds, his weight sinking him into the mushy ground as he approaches the far wall. He shoulders the heavy door open, pausing as he notices scattered corpses within... Serpent people. Long dead, little more than mummified husks. 

The two survey the scene in silent before Lorian starts forward again, taking care not to disturb the bodies. There were few sources of dragon essence left, and the serpent people were said to be their pitiful descendants... Their father had to have gotten it somewhere, doing Gods knew what with it to transform himself. Drinking their blood by the gallon? Lothric’s grip around Lorian’s shoulders tightens as they proceed, pushing back memories he’d rather not resurface.

There’s a hallway beyond, and stairs that take them even further underground, until it just... stopped, ending at a round room full of candles. There’s a chest against the wall, which Lorian check quickly for mimicry, and then opens when it proves to be clear. There’s a jagged old scale inside, not much use to either of them, so he leaves it. “...it doesn’t look like there’s anything here,” Lothric says, voicing what both of them are thinking. “But this can’t be it...”

He reaches out a hand to touch the wall behind the chest, checking to see if it felt different, warmer or colder to indicate a passage beyond. As soon as his fingers brush it, it just... vanishes. He draws his hand back, placing it on Lorian’s head for balance as his brother backs away. The doorway leads into darkness, a more black and consuming darkness than they’ve ever seen... It feels almost heavy to look at, their eyes straining to find any scrap of light within. 

They should leave, go back, get the Dark Sun and tell them about what they’d found... But Lothric is curious, and once he adjusts to the sight, he leans forward, and Lorian proceeds cautiously on hands and knees into the dark. He can see torchlight in the distance, the glimmer of water, and-

The cliff beneath him gives way, crumbling under his weight and unceremoniously sending them both crashing into the swamp below.