#so fascinating how local language forms

[somer-writes]

I have crawled out of my mole whole to humbly ask you

but what type of southern accent do you think Twilight has? 🤔

hello thank you for coming out of your mole hole, have a treat :3

uuuuh well so im like Midwest Supreme so my interp for his accent comes from like podunk midwest backwater nowhere XD we're talking towns built around grain elevators where theres more cows than people and you can get snowed in for days if you dont live on a snow route

but usually the Default Southern accent i write for OCs is either like Appalachia or gater rasslin loosianna XD

depends on if i want cowboy or chewing tobacco yknow

i think twi just bc of the goats and pumpkins is probably somewhere in the wyoming or northern colorado range of That Peach in Levis cowboy. like modern twi wears a duck coat and chews on toothpicks and has a stetson hat. or when hes doing ranch work hes wearing coveralls but has the sleeves tied around his waist and a carhartt shirt underneath. and you know his carhartts are just destroyed and patched over and over in the ass. he gives fresh goat milk to the farm cats and the dogs follow him *everywhere*. hes riding draft horses recreationally. epona might be a perchie

imo a lot of people write a Tennessee twi but mostly like knoxville. maybe arkansas? not quite In the Swamp south for a lot of them but more like Mountain South. but not mountain enough to be the kind that sets bear traps for cops yknow. just mountain enough to have anarchist leanings.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #25

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Family Reunion

Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.

Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.

He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.

He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.

He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.

He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"

"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."

"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"

Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.

Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.

The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.

Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.

He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.

He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.

✦

(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!

(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.

[arcane-vagabond]

Sleeping With the Fishes

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Language, Dead animals, Injury to self, Reader is a bit of an idiot, Baboons, Bradley not understanding boundaries, The boys make fun of Boots. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: He's finally here! What do you guys think?? This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabondwhere all of my stories and drabbles are posted!

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3

You woke up to the sound of yelling coming from the boys’ tent. You scrambled out of the sheets, barely pulling on a pair of shorts over your underwear before running out of the tent and towards the camp. All three men were standing outside the tent, looking uneasily at each other.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, a little out of breath from your run. “What happened?”

“Well,” Bob started, glancing over at Jake as the blond ran a hand through his hair.

“Wild man left a goddamn fish in my bed,” he snapped, glaring disdainfully into the tent.

“He what?” You questioned, pushing past them to look in through the opening. Sure enough, a large, bloody fish sat atop the usually pristine sheets. You grimaced, backing up to stand with the others. “What kind of fish is that?”

“What?” Jake hollered, looking at you incredulously. “Who gives a shit? There’s a fish in my bed, Boots!”

“Do you think he’s threatening you?” Javy asked thoughtfully, stroking the length of his jaw as he eyed the fish. Jake turned to look at him, a surprised look on his face as if the thought only just crossed his mind. He looked back at the fish with pursed lips.

“Bradley isn’t like that,” Bob assured, placing a gentle hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“There’s a fish in my bed,” Jake gritted out, waving wildly towards the tent. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Quit being such a baby about your gift,” you scowled. Jake began to splutter, face going red as he fought to form a coherent thought. At that same moment Ice and Maverick came walking up from where they had been fixing dinner.

“What’s going on?” Maverick asked, glancing around at your little group. Jake pointed a finger into the tent, taking deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The two older men pushed past you and Javy to peer into the tent, their eyebrows shooting up their foreheads at the sight.

“Huh,” Maverick laughed out. “He must have seen you working with the plants this past week.”

Jake stared at him for a second, blinking slowly as he processed what the brunette just said.

“Pardon?”

“He sees me growing some of the food here,” Maverick explained, gesturing towards the small patch of land he had set aside to grow some vegetables for the camp. “I use fish from the river to help fertilize the crops. He helps me with it sometimes, in fact. He must have thought you’d want some fish to help with your research.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you sighed. Jake stared at you, an unreadable expression that slowly morphed into one of distraught.

“But,” he murmured, waving uselessly back at the fish, “my bed? Why?”

“Now that is a bit of a mystery, I’ll admit,” Maverick hummed, staring confusedly at the bed. Ice rolled his eyes.

“Is it though?” He muttered, giving you a knowing look. You shifted uncomfortably. Surely he wasn’t implying…

“Boots, we’re going to have to take a raincheck on going down to the waterfall,” Jake sighed, looking at you now.

“What?” You frowned. “No way! It won’t take you that long to clean up! We can just go after!”

“This is going to take me forever to clean up,” he argued, shaking his head. “No, we’ll just go tomorrow or something.”

“Jake, if I have to spend one more day in this godforsaken camp, I’m going to lose my mind,” you scowled. “I’ll just go on ahead and you can meet me when you’re finished. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a terrible idea,” he frowned. “The jungle is dangerous, Boots. God only knows what’s out there waiting to snatch you up.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you snapped, glaring at him. “I’m just as capable as the rest of you. I can take care of myself. Javy, tell him.”

Javy sucked in a breath, eyes darting between the two of you as you waited for him to say something.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable getting in the middle-”

“Useless,” you hissed, turning back to Jake. “Jake Seresin, I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. I’ve done this plenty of times before when you aren’t here to infantilize me.”

He mulled over your words, glancing at the others before sighing.

“Fine,” he relented, “but don’t go too far, okay? I’ll join you when I’m finished with this. Hopefully, it won’t take me too long.”

You smiled in victory, turning to head back to your tent and get ready. It didn’t take you long, just changing into a fresh set of clothes and filling up your canteen with water before grabbing your backpack. You were just about to leave camp and head towards the falls when Maverick stopped you.

“I packed you some lunch,” he said, handing you an old container. You took it from him, smiling gratefully as you shoved it into your backpack.

“I’m guessing there’s something else you wanted to say to me?” You asked, earning a chuckle.

“Just,” he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets as he gazed into the jungle, “be careful. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Jake, but Bob and I spotted a leopard by the river not too long ago. It’s possible it’s moved out of the area, but I wanted to let you know just in case. Just stay vigilant.”

“Yeah, I will,” you smiled, readjusting the strap on your shoulder.

“I’m sure Bradley will be keeping an eye on you too,” he added. “You should be fine.”

“Thanks, Mav,” you nodded, turning and heading into the jungle before you.

The sun shone brightly, some of the rays penetrating through the canopy above. It was strange being out in the wilderness by yourself, the strange new noises keeping you slightly on edge as you continued to trek through the leaves. You took another swig from your canteen, the cool liquid easing the unsettling warmness that surrounded you. You tried in vain to wipe away the sweat accumulating on your forehead, letting out a frustrated sigh and grunt of disgust when you just ended up smearing more sweat onto your face. You shoved the canteen back into your pack, stopping when you heard a chattering sound coming from up above.

You looked skyward, seeing a couple of baboons racing along the trees. You grabbed blindly for your notebook, eager to jot down some notes and sketches of the creatures for Ice and Bob to go over when you returned. You trotted after them, now digging in your bag for a pen as you continued after them. The baboons noticed you, chattering at each other loudly as they took you in. Seeming to taunt you, they waved their arms at you, tilting their heads as if to say “can’t catch me.” You huffed out a chuckle, twisting and turning through the trees as you chased them. You were so caught up in trying to jot down some notes that you didn’t notice the dip in the ground or the tree root that arched out of the dirt beneath you. You fell with a panicked yelp, hitting your head on another one of the large roots, the world going dark around you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been out, probably not too long since the sun still beat down through the canopy. You touched the sore spot on your head, wincing at the slight sting, but sighing with relief when you checked your fingers and found no blood.

The baboons were still shrieking and chattering above you, almost as if they were laughing at your unfortunate predicament, and you cast an errant glare upwards at them. Damn monkeys.

An ache rippled up your leg from your ankle, and you bit your lip as you shuffled back to lean against one of the trees, hoping against all odds that you hadn’t done anything too bad to it.

Your head pounded, a wave of dizziness running through you that was most certainly not helped by the intense humidity and heat of the jungle. You let out a groan as you experimentally moved your ankle, hissing when a jolt of pain ran up your leg. Yeah, definitely sprained. You huffed out a sigh, leaning your head against the trunk of the tree.

The cacophony of noises did little to ease your aching head, and you wished you had waited for Jake to finish cleaning his bed like he had insisted. Now you were stuck out in the jungle, hoping and praying someone would find you before something else did.

You groaned at the thought of what Jake would say if he could see you now. That smarmy look he’d give you as he looked you over. The “I told you so” that would follow. You would never hear the end of it, but a chilling thought ran through you. The guys had to find you before Jake could be his insufferable self, and as far as they knew, you would be down by the waterfall. How far away were you? You scolded yourself for straying away from the trail markers that had been laid out. How was anyone supposed to find you now? You sniffled, biting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

You checked your canteen, grimacing at the sound of the half empty container. Setting it down with a thud you gazed at the canopy above, wiping the sweat from your brow. It could be hours before someone realized you were missing. You hoped sooner.

Another wave of emotion rushed over you, and this time you allowed yourself to let a few tears slip down your cheeks. How could you be so foolish?

The sound of rustling foliage drew your attention across the small clearing, your heart rate picking up at the sound. Your thoughts raced back to what Maverick had told you before you left the camp. Bob and I spotted a leopard by the river not too long ago. Inwardly groaning, you lamented about your situation, hoping that whatever was hiding in the foliage wasn’t a giant cat. You stayed as still as possible, praying for whatever it was to continue on. From the sounds of it, whatever it was, was huge, and it was getting closer.

You gripped your canteen in your hand, ready to throw it at whatever came out of the dense leaves. It wouldn’t do any lasting damage, but perhaps it would daze the creature long enough for you to scramble away and towards help. Surely Jake was done by now? How long had you been out here?

You bit back a shriek as the leaves parted to reveal...a man?

He was tall—huge really, and so unfairly handsome. Tanned skin stretched across bulging muscles, caramel brown hair curling at the top of his head. It was his eyes though, that captured your attention. Deep, mesmerizing honey-colored eyes that stared at you intensely, as if trying to make sense of you.

"Who the hell are you?" You asked, voice tight as he crouched down, inching closer to you with slow moments. "Where did you come from?"

He didn't answer as he crept closer, his movements almost like that of the apes you observed during your travels. His hand reached towards you, his knuckles brushing against the tips of your fingers. You jerked your hand back, regarding him wearily.

"Human?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Me?" You spluttered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. "Of course I'm a human! What did you think I was?"

His eyes narrowed at you, his lips pressing into a thin line as he seemed to consider you.

"Not like any human I have seen," he spoke, his English seemingly broken. "What kind?"

It took you a second to figure out what he was asking you.

"I'm a woman," you told him, a sense of unease filling you. Was this the man that Ice and Mav had told you about? What was his name again? Bradley, right?

“Seen you at the camp,” he continued, watching you for a moment. “Smell good.”

Your cheeks warmed even further at the comment, and you cleared your throat before shifting where you sat, wincing as the movement jostled your ankle. Bradley glanced down at the swollen appendage, frowning at the redness that seeped to the surface.

“Hurt?” He asked, leaning forward, his face so close to yours. You swallowed thickly, eyes roving over his face and hesitating on his lips. The facial hair that sat atop it wasn’t a bad look on him, quite the contrary actually, and for a second you wondered what it would be like to feel it on the skin of your thighs as he-

You blinked rapidly, trying desperately to clear the depraved thoughts from your head. You chalked it up to the combination of the African heat and the fact you hadn’t been laid in God only knows how long. You cleared your throat and briefly met his gaze before looking away.

“Yes,” you answered him, cursing at the shakiness of your voice. “I think I hurt my ankle when I fell. Do you think you could go back to the camp and tell the others where I am?”

Bradley frowned at you before shaking his head.

“Boots hurt,” he rumbled. “Can’t leave here.”

“Then how do you expect the others to—hey!”

You yelped when Bradley slid one large hand under your knees, the other coming up to rest on your back as he lifted you off the ground. You scrambled to find purchase, finally wrapping your arms around his neck, eyes widening when he turned to look at you, face so close, your noses were practically touching. You tried desperately not to think of the hard curves of muscle you were being held against, willing yourself to think about anything else.

“This is,” you began, swallowing thickly as you stared into his eyes, “this is not the most practical way of doing this.”

He stared at you for a moment, blinking at you in confusion.

“Practical?”

“You know,” you mumbled, tearing your eyes away from him, “the best way to do this.”

He frowned at that, giving you a challenging look as his grip on you tightened. You gasped as he held you closer, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Can you walk?”

“What?” You blinked. He chuckled, bringing his face even closer to yours which was not helping you form a coherent sentence.

“Can you walk?” He repeated, the corners of his lips tugging up just a hair. You processed his question, scowling at him once you realized he was messing with you.

“No,” you huffed, meeting his gaze with a glare. He gave you a smirk as he turned and started walking through the jungle.

“You don’t have to be so smug, you know,” you grumbled, relaxing a little when you felt confident that he wouldn’t drop you. He hummed, the smirk still painted on his face as he continued on.

“So you know what smug means, but not practical?” You groused. Bradley spared you a look before turning his attention back to where he was walking.

“Ice calls Maverick smug,” he supplied. You hummed, but didn’t say anything else as the two of you carried on.

“Boots?” Bob asked as you and Bradley appeared from the jungle. He was standing by the fire pit, a confused look on his face as if he couldn’t quite figure out what it was he was looking at. Jake and Javy glanced up at the sound of your name, the blond scrambling to his feet when he saw you in the arms of the wild man.

“What happened?” He asked, crossing the distance to come stand beside you. Bradley let out what could only be described as a growl as he swung you away, fixing Jake with a glare. Jake gaped at him, jaw slack. “What the hell-”

“Bradley?”

All of you turned to see Ice and Maverick walking up from the other side of the camp, looks of concern as they glanced between you and the man whose arms you were still currently in.

“I, uh,” you stammered, glancing around at everyone. “I fell.”

“You fell?” Jake asked accusingly, already eyeing your swollen ankle.

“I was following some baboons,” you admitted, refusing to meet his gaze. You could already feel the accusatory look he was giving you. “I was taking notes, and I tripped over some tree roots. Bradley found me and brought me back here.”

“You were supposed to go straight to the river,” Jake accused.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You strayed off the path, didn’t you?”

“Jake-”

“Dammit, Boots,” he growled, running a hand over his face. “You could have been seriously hurt!”

“Speaking of,” Ice interrupted, moving forward to examine your ankle. “Let’s get you looked at. Bradley, would you mind setting her over here?”

Bradley looked over at the bench that Ice gestured to, pausing for a moment before walking over. He plopped down, situating you on his lap, his arms still wrapped around your middle. You let out an indignant squeak, glaring when both Javy, Jake, and Bob snickered, trying to cover them up with coughs.

“Looks like wild man is already attached,” Javy quipped, earning another glare.

“Why don’t you come over here and say that,” you snapped, feeling the heat on your cheeks grow even warmer. Ice looked like he was struggling not to laugh as he crouched in front of you, and you just barely caught the smirk that Maverick had on his face. You winced as Ice began his examination, biting your lip from the pain. You felt Bradley’s arms tighten around you, and you gripped onto his arm a little tighter to keep from crying out at the red hot spike of pain that shot up from your ankle.

“Looks like you sprained it,” Ice finally announced. You let out a groan, leaning back into Bradley as you rolled your eyes.

“Just my luck,” you grumbled. “How long am I stuck here for?”

“I’d say at least four,” he surmised. “Maybe six if you don’t keep off of it.”

“Looks like wild man will just have to carry her around everywhere,” Javy snickered, Bob and Jake joining in with him.

“Would you be quiet?” You growled. “This is going to be a nightmare!”

“Serves you right,” Jake smirked, that smarmy look you hated already on his face. “You should have waited for me.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled, crossing your arms with a huff. Ice chuckled, moving to stand.

“Bradley, would you mind bringing Boots to the medical tent for me? I should have a bandage for her to wear.”

You scrambled once again as Bradley lifted you, clinging to his shoulders as he began to walk after Ice across the camp. The three boys were barely holding in their laughter as they watched you, breaking out into fits of giggles as you flipped them off.

Bradley was none the wiser as he held you, his hold gentle as he took care to not jostle you too much. You supposed the next couple of weeks wouldn’t be so bad.

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

medialog july 2k24

watched

the seven samurai - classic that holds up IMO!! like lawrence of arabia, one where you can see why basically every person to make a movie since cites it as a formative influence. lots of really beautiful shots but what really stood out to me was how human it felt - small scale but not in a way that means "minor," in a way that emphasizes that even the smallest of scales is everything to the people living it. every character feels so real and carries such a sense of a life lived, thanks to both the writing and the absolutely wonderful performances. it feels so empathetic and compassionate and warm even though it's ultimately a war movie - one of those movies where you get the sense a fundamental love for humanity is one of the animating creative impulses. also toshiro mifune, one of the hottest people ever to live, spends the back half of this movie, to quote nick, dressed like hercules with his ass hanging out and it's incredible.

tank girl - every single Look and Aesthetic in this movie is an absolute 100/10 and lori petty is a foul-mouthed delight, but wow was I not prepared for how much of this movie is about the discovery of a secret underground society of kangaroo people

read

megan whalen turner, the thief - a pair of friends of mine basically shoved this into my hands when i was at their apartment with the promise of great craft & an ending that goes crazy. the first in the series of six, this one is more or less a sturdy and fairly straightforward middle-grade adventure story, and while it was at times a little heavy on descriptions of the characters making their way across various types of terrain, overall my interest was sustained by a few things: a clean, deliberate writing style that washed me in nostalgia for the middle-grade classics of my own youth (which this could have been - it came out in 1996 - but somehow i never came across it); a setting deliberately out of any real historical time but clearly influenced in Vibes by (among other places) ancient greece, which contributed to the nostalgia; glimpses of a convincingly rendered mythology (and the fascinating choice, which continues throughout the series, to render the characters' occasional glimpses of the actual divine as more unsettling than anything else); and a wonderfully compelling set of characters, above all gen, the book's narrator and the series' central character (although not most of the books'), who as i said a while ago is a classic blend of clever, brave, and incredibly annoying to everyone he meets.

monique wittig, the straight mind - collection of essays by a french lesbian feminist/theorist i first heard of, to be very honest, because adele haenel was one of the panelists at an event at the local french bookstore and i wanted to see her in person, lmao. the first essay in the collection opens with a call to abolish the concept of sex, which is one of those claims i'm not sure i actually endorse or even fully understand but find really invigorating to read, all of which more or less applies to my experience of the collection as a whole (including the part where i was not sure i was always following it). i did particularly appreciate her interest as a writer (she was a novelist as well as a theorist) in language and the role it plays in upholding gender/the work of imagining a way to play a role in dismantling it. and i found her general rejection of "the myth of woman" quite bracing.

rick emerson, unmask alice: LSD, satanic panic, and the imposter behind the world's most notorious diaries - i heard about this book on an episode of you're wrong about before i stopped listening and it was in fact an incredibly entertaining and fascinating bit of light nonfiction about a truly bonkers episode in american publishing history. go ask alice is the obvious draw here, but a large chunk of the book is devoted to "editor" and professional liar beatrice sparks's follow-up, jay's journal, which emerson reveals to have, in fact, started as the actual diary of a suicidal teenager whose family entrusted it to her in the hopes that their dead son's pain might somehow be able to help other families prevent similarly tragic outcomes... only to have sparks expand his few dozen entries into a story of the absolute most insane satanic panic ground zero nonsense (this book predates michelle remembers!), but somehow leave in enough identifying details that everyone in the family's small mormon town knew exactly who it was about. truly truly monstrous and if emerson sometimes veers a little close painting sparks as a cartoon villain, it's honestly hard to blame him given how much time he spent contemplating this unbelievably heinous act.

courtney summers, i'm the girl - the simplest way to describe this book is to paraphrase the author in some interview i can't remember as a story about a girl who confuses beauty for power because that's what the world has told her is true; it's emotionally rough but highly readable, and as always i just so admire summers' lack of interest in morality tales or lessons learned, her keen understanding that having a sixteen-year-old being groomed come suddenly and fully into a perfect feminist analysis of what's happened to her would make the book more palatable to some but ultimately be a betrayal of the character she'd created. summers has alluded in her newsletter to this book, loosely based on research about the epstein/maxwell case & the testimony of their victims, closing the chapter on the first arc of her career as a writer - eight thorny, painful novels about interior lives of teenage girls struggling with themselves and the world they live in - and it feels like a fitting capstone, one that both calls on the skills she's developed over the years and feels like it digs even more deeply than the project into an area of interest that feels fitting for an author who started writing YA in her early 20s and is now in her late 30s, namely, how to write a book that makes space for real empathy with a young person naive enough - some might say, and indeed some have said, stupid enough - to be well and truly taken in? (and i think one of the smartest things the book does is foreground early on how badly its protagonist doesn't want to be thought of as stupid, which is part of what makes her vulnerable and part of what makes processing the reality of what's happening to her so difficult.) also, despite the fact that romance has never been a huge or simple part of summers's novels, she's always had a knack for crafting a YA dreamboat love interest, and as someone who it turns out was figuring out her sexuality in her 30s around the same time summers was - it was great to see her do it again but this time with a girl :)

ted chiang, exhalation - my friend recommended me this because i was looking to read more sci-fi short stories but running into my perennial problem with sci-fi which is that frequently the writing is bad. ted chiang is pretty good! i liked how much he clearly conceives of or intuits that form & story are one and the same - almost all the stories in this collection take the form of a document that has some in-world reason to exist, which keeps the style feeling fresh and which he often uses to merge character work & sci-fi concepts in a cool way (as in a story with the fascinating premise that creationism is real but earth is not god's favored planet). it was unfortunate that the longest story in the collection was by far my least favorite, being both the most subject to sci-fi bland prose disease and focused on a concept it is impossible for me to muster interest in (the ethics of digital sentience... they're pictures on a screen...). the last story, the only other one written in the third person, suffered a little stylistically as well, but made up for it with an INSANELY good premise, which is that it's a multiverse story focused on a variety of psychological challenges people might have in response to learning for sure parallel universes are real - there's a support group for people addicted to checking in on their parallel selves! that's the most awesome multiverse concept i have ever come across.

evelline adams, astrology for everyone - astrology got less fun when the ratio started shifting of people viewing it as A Fun Pretend Thing to people taking it very seriously, but i do retain the same aesthetic appreciation for the particular kitsch of vintage astrology writing that i did when i borrowed this from my friend several years ago.

patrick radden keefe, rogues: true stories of grifters, killers, rebels and crooks - a collection of 12 of keefe's new yorker #longreads that i read because (a) i liked empire of pain, his book on the sackler family, a lot (b) i'm trying to get back into my library ebook habit to keep me away from Scrolling and hopefully learn some things and substantive-but-still-easy-to-read journalistic nonfiction is my favorite genre for this purpose because i don't feel i lose anything by reading it in 5 minute snatches while waiting for the train, and (c) his other books had all the licenses checked out. anyway this gave me what i wanted! i think my favorite was the one about wine fraud just because i think wine fraud is funny because anyone shelling out crazy money on wine deserves to be scammed so it's basically a victimless crime. the book closes with his profile of anthony bourdain, which is a really lovely read although incredibly sad in retrospect because bourdain comes across as so full of life and would die the year after it was published.

megan whalen turner, the queen of attolia - book two in the series, and everything is growing up a bit, as we shift from an adventure story to a war story, from gen's narration to an expertly deployed omniscient/shifting third, and from an irrepressible protagonist to one Truly Going Through It. this book kicks off strong by opening with a set of circumstances that permanently and painfully changes gen's circumstances, and the question of how he's going to process this and move forward drives a lot of the emotional suspense of the book. it also upends our understanding of a character introduced in the first book en route to an absolutely insane romance that shouldn't work but in its quasi-mythical context absolutely does. i tend to prefer hard copies for fiction, but starting here and for every book after i got to the end and went straight to the library app so i could keep going.

megan whalen turner, the king of attolia - THIS BOOK SLAPS SO HARD IT'S UNBELIEVABLE!!!! at first you're like, WHY is the narration primarily focused on some random no-name member of the royal guard we have never met before? but then you realize it's so that the entire book can be propelled by the dramatic irony wherein we, readers of the series, know gen well at this point and also know exactly how and why things went down the way they did at the end of the last book, but almost no one else does and (partly because of the ways he is annoying) many assumptions are being made... so a lot of the "suspense" in this book comes from, like, when is this new guy's understanding of gen going to start aligning with ours? it's soooo cool and something i don't remember reading in a series before (although i don't read a ton of series), and this book is, like, relentlessly entertaining on its way to its insanely satisfying conclusion, and also contains two of the most romantic paragraphs i have read in my LIFE despite the fact that the couple they center on barely appears together in the book.

megan whalen turner, conspiracy of kings - we catch up with a character from the first book who's been having a rough go of it and now needs to toughen up a bit in response to his circumstances. i think as a novel this is maybe the weakest of the set but as a character i love my sweet baby sophos so much i would have read 500 more pages. also contains one of the DUDES ROCK scenes of all time.

megan whalen turner, thick as thieves - this one picks up with a minor character from book two that i was happy to see again, because he really punched above his weight in terms of interest. it kind of combines the adventure-story of the first book with the dramatic irony as suspense of the third, and both the narrator and the central dynamic between the two main characters are delightful. this book has the least gen of all the books and i did miss him but it was funny how intensely his whole Deal hung over the circumstances regardless, and also despite the fact that the ending of literally all of these books so far has involved the reveal of some five-dimensional chess magic trick, so to speak, and thus i knew logically it was coming, i once again found myself so swept up that i was fully :O when it all went down.

megan whalen turner, return of the thief - an incredibly satisfying ending to the series, even if it left me sad that it was over! as was often the case with these books, it was, like, so satisfying that part of me almost felt like it should feel like cheating... but it didn't and i was just so happy to be there rooting for all my close personal friends. also the narrator of this one is a new character who is both physically disabled and nonverbal, and a) i thought that was generally pretty cool and the way the text engaged with people underestimating him was interesting and b) the descriptions of him as a kid being fascinated by triangles & numerical patterns was THEE most endearing thing i have read in my life.

listened

willow, empathogen - i don't know why willow decided to put out the best tori amos record since scarlet's walk? but i'm glad she did, because this album rocks! (and, like, seriously, if you're a tori person, you owe it to yourself to check this out - the influence is strong and undeniable, IMO, and on its own merits the album sounds gorgeous and takes you on a rich and textured sonic journey, even if you do maybe get the sense that being the very rich daughter of two incredibly famous millionaires in the entertainment industry is an impediment towards having all that much to say as a lyricist.)

other

anna di resburgo - my friend had an extra ticket to a short-lived production of this, the only surviving bel canto opera by a woman (recently assembled for performance from its discovery in some archive). it was only her second aria and as per the program notes kind of flopped, possibly partly due to its thematic similarity with another opera first produced around the same time by donizetti, by then an acknowledged master of the form while di resburgo was a novice (she had previously composed one opera, which has since been lost, and none after, although iirc she did some other composition) (also disclaimer that i know very little about opera, like just barely enough for all that to kind of make sense to me lol). anyway the work is uneven and (as my friend pointed out) oftentimes the music, while pretty and sometimes interesting, is at odds tonally with the plot - the plot is in theory quite dramatic with life-or-death stakes but for much of the runtime the music feels more suited to a farce - and the libretto is... not a piece of well constructed drama overall or scene to scene or line by line (there are some, like, accidentally comical exposition dumps along the lines of "father, do you remember that mysterious orphan that showed up on our doorstep all those years ago?"). but it was not without its highlights, and we agreed that as a second outing it showed promise we wish the composer had received support for the way men with similarly Just Alright second operas did.

inwood shorts - we went with some friends (actually the same friend as above) to see some shorts by local filmmakers at a place in inwood with an incredible view of the river featuring on that day an unbelievably gorgeous sunset and while nothing really wowed me a nice time was had by all & there was a big laugh in the crowd when the guy in a short giving a little "tour of my neighborhood" schtick said "for a while i lived in this place upstate called yonkers." :)

[that-one-i-think]

Temple Of Menphia Lore!

SO having a character that is a follower of Menphia has resulted in me making a religion from scratch SO HERE IS THE MAIN POINTS OF THE RELIGION FOR THOSE INTERESTED! (Like most of my lore posts, feel free to use. Sharing is caring and all.)

The Temple of Menphia is a religion that focuses battle and justice, with the defining feature being the "Fury of the Righteous". I based a lot of the principles off of Sikhism and partially from the DC Amazonian's. Essentially, based it off of religious warriors. (seriously though, look up Sikhism. Super fascinating)

The temples were established by Menphia as her own way to combat shadow knights. Warriors with a strong sense of justice who are able to combat the rage of shadow knights and channel their own. It is much more difficult for a person who is in control of their emotions to be corrupted than someone dealing with religious shame. Equality and social justice are incredibly important aspects.

An important aspect of the temple of Menphia is injustice collecting. Think of them similar to bounty hunters and cops. Most temples act as a form of Judge, Jury, and Executioner, with locals coming to them with issues and the temples acting as a way to solve problems. Essentially, if a villager cannot get their lords to act on a crime, a temple priest will delegate it instead.

Temples also handle a lot of lord corruption as well. An example of this is a farmers daughter who was the mistress of a lord ending up dead. The farmer asked the temple to investigate, believing it was fowl play. One of the judges (a temple priest who is more skilled with words than battle) investigated and after finding out a Lord was he one who killed her, dispatched justice accordingly.

Unlike the Church of Irene, the Temple of Menphia is incredibly separate from politics. For they need to in order to treat everyone fairly. This also means that Temple Warrior won't join in on a war unless the know that the side they are fighting on is correct. They are for the people, not for a nation.

The temple of Menphia is very open to sex and violence. Menphia was the Divine Warrior of Fury and Passion, so as long as it can resemble a fight, you are set. It is also why tattoos are a part of the religion, it is withstanding pain and coming out on top.

Now onto some flaws about the religion. While being a very open religion, it is very difficult to join a temple. For temple members require years upon years of training, unlike the Irene church. The Temple of Irene is also a temple that isn't really that knowlegeable about science, math, or magicks. They are essentially a church of Lawyers and Warriors, they are focused on social issues and justice. They are taught to read though, but aren't taught many languages beyond Havasi (The Tu'la langauge)

A lot of Menphia followers have an extreme prejudice against shadow knights. When many of the temple warriors have been taught how to kill them since the age of 4, it leads to prejudice. The temple doesn't really do guest well either, they will nurse you back to health but claiming sanctuary isn't really a thing unless you are in genuine unfair danger.

That is all for right now. Again, feel free to use and comment or ask questions. Story building is the best when other people can chat about it.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking, language, arguing, insults, mentions of violence, mentions of sex, drunk creeps harassing women in bars

Over the course of the next few months, Jake and I grew closer than I ever imagined we would. We had our separate lives, giving each other plenty of space so as to not smother ourselves, but lately we had been spending more and more time together. He was attentive- we talked daily, and I was getting used to the ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ texts. Since coming to Tennessee, I hadn’t had much time to explore but he remedied that, and we experienced what Nashville had to offer together.

It felt as though we never ran out of things to talk about, and we were constantly learning new things about each other. I loved that we never let the banter die down; having fun with him, joking around, pushing each other’s buttons, it all came naturally. His laughter made me feel like I was home.

Oh, he was always a perfect gentleman, careful not to overstep any boundaries, but when the time came (pretty early on if I’m being honest), the sex was phenomenal. It was full of fire and passion, and usually ended with us both so fucked out we couldn’t form actual sentences. There was a perfect balance of sensuality and roughness, being given and received on both ends. I was more than happy to let him take control, to exert that dominance that made my knees tremble and lit a fire in my gut. But being with him, exploring each other, made me realize that occasionally, I quite enjoyed reversing those roles. More than once he got on his knees and begged me to give him release. And damn, he sure was pretty like that.

The first time he brought me around to meet his brothers, there was almost an immediate connection. I really enjoyed their company and for the most part, they treated me like I had been a part of the group forever. Josh was slightly standoffish at first, but he was always kind. His personality was so different from Jake’s, but the unmistakable link between them was surreal. Sam was a goofball, always making everyone laugh. I pretended I didn’t notice the way he watched Daniel like he was the most precious person on the planet.

Even Richie was starting to warm up to Jake. I was thankful they, at the very least, had one thing in common when they could bond over guitars. The occasional grumble from Richie when Jake would flirt in front of him became less threatening, and more of something we would laugh about later.

Jake was able to witness my excitement firsthand when Richie and I finished restoring the Gretsch. He was just as fascinated when I opened the case, now cleaned and restored as well, to show it off. I watched his eyes light up at the sight of it.

The 1957 6-string electric guitar had all new hardware, including two single-coil pickups and a Bigsby vibrato tailpiece. Jake examined the wood, astonished at how smooth it all looked, like it was brand new. “It’s got a chambered mahogany body and neck, a maple top, and the fretboard is rosewood,” Richie explained, clearly proud of our work. I was especially proud of the finish, in a dark Cadillac green. Jake carefully ran his fingers along the neck, examining all the details like he was trying to memorize it. Judging from the way he looked at it, I’d bet if it didn’t already have a buyer, he would have been first in line.

With how smoothly everything was going, it figured that we would hit a road bump soon. And we did, when we had our first actual argument.

We were at a local bar with the guys, having a good time drinking and chatting, and generally shooting the shit. I made my way to the bar for another drink, Jake absorbed in conversation with Daniel. While I waited for my drink, I felt the approach of the stranger before I saw him. I didn’t turn to look at him until he spoke.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing buying her own drinks? Your man not taking good enough care of you?”

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. First chance to take the hint and back off, buddy.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink, and later I can show you how a real man oughta treat you.”

“I’m not interested. Beat it.” Second chance.

He closed the distance between us until I could feel and smell his disgusting breath on me. Give me just one reason, please. I was preparing to defend myself if it came down to it, as I’d unfortunately done many times before. There was never any fear, just annoyance at this guy’s utter audacity. If there was one thing that I was thankful for from my father, was his insistence on me learning how to fight.

I heard the man chuckle as he took his third and final chance before I got to the part about kicking his ass. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I think you-“

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to register Jake forcing himself in between myself and the stranger and shoving the man backwards. “Back the fuck off, asshole.”

The guy shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. “Fucking crazy,” he mumbled, disappearing into a group of patrons. I can’t say I wasn’t grateful; I had never seen Jake fight so I wasn’t sure how things would have gone on that front if that man decided to fight back. But I sure was livid.

Jake turned to me. “Are you oka-“

“What the fuck was that?”

The confusion on his face was clear but did nothing to quell my own irritation.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Jacob. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious? Pardon me for trying to protect my girlfriend-“

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” I’m sure we had turned a few heads by then. I let out an exasperated sigh and marched past him, towards the exit. He followed closely, continuously trying to argue his point.

“That creep was fucking harassing you.”

“There will always be creeps in bars harassing me! I had it under control.”

“Yeah? And what if he got physical with you? Got violent? Then what? I was just supposed to let him hurt you?” He was still hot on my heels when we made it outside, the cool air a welcome change from the stuffy bar.

“Then I’d get violent right back. I know how to protect myself; I don’t need a man to do it for me!” I’m sure I was yelling at this point, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You really think you’d be able to fend off someone that’s twice your size?”

“I’ve done it before! I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Jake. I wasn’t raised like that. I’m not afraid of some pathetic, drunk asshole who isn’t even capable of walking straight!”

“Well maybe you should be! I get that you want to play the ‘I’m a badass and don’t need help’ card, but you don’t have to be stupid and reckless!”

I scoffed. “Oh, I’m stupid and reckless because I didn’t come crying to my boyfriend to save me from the mean ole’ frat boy trying to buy me a drink? I’m not the one that was trying to start a fight in a crowded bar. How do I know you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked?”

“I was trying to help you; don’t you see that? But fine, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself for trying to be chivalrous!”

“What you’re being is a pain in the ass.” I’ll be the first to admit I was stubborn as a mule often, when the situation called for it, but I could recognize when it was time to walk away. We were both heated for our own reasons, and I didn’t see anything happening other than the situation escalating. I was seeing red, and the more he talked the worse it got. “I’m gonna go.”

“No, Kya, wait-“ He made like he was going to reach out and touch me. Sighing, I put my hands up and stepped back.

“Jake, right now I need some space, and we both need to cool off. Go back inside, enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk tomorrow.”

He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, but he didn’t argue. He had a dejected look on his face that tugged on my heartstrings. I wasn’t enjoying this, and I hated making him feel bad, but needed to understand this about me if we were going to make our relationship work. I refused to let anyone walk all over me, whether it be a stranger or my own boyfriend. I was sure we would talk later, and I could nip the issue in the bud and hope we could move past it.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered sadly as I walked away from the man I definitely did not want to walk away from.

~

I still wasn’t feeling good about the whole incident when I walked into the shop early the next morning. I should have known Richie would notice right off the bat.

“Why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios? Do I need to kill someone?”

I sighed. “I’m fine. Jake and I got into an argument last night, is all.”

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes back and forth like he was thinking. “So, I can kill him? ‘Cause I gladly-“

“Shut up,” I chuckled. “You’re not killing anyone. I’m sure we’ll talk it out later.”

“Ugh, fine. You wanna talk about it?”

Throughout my life, I could always rely on Richie to have my back for almost everything. He was the parent that I did have, the one I could open up to without fear of judgement or being brushed off. So I explained what had transpired and what was said during the argument, how I chose to distance myself, and how shitty it made me feel to walk away from Jake.

“Ah, shit. You love that fucker, don’t you?”

I groaned at his forward, but very true, assumption, bringing my head down to meet my arm on the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably?”

He patted my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“He just made me so mad last night!”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last time. Hell, you’re bound to piss him off plenty, too. Doesn’t mean it ain’t right. It’ll be hard sometimes but you’re tough, and if you love him, you’ll work through it.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“Ha, I’ve always been wise, young grasshopper. Now, listen up.” He lowered his voice, putting on a more serious tone. “You’ve always been bullheaded. You’re the most stubborn but one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through some shit that toughened you up and made you into who you are now. The world you were brought up in, you needed to be tough to survive. That’s why your dad and I made sure you could protect yourself and taught you push back fear. And it’s great; it means I don’t really have to worry about you. Now, I don’t know him all that well, but I think it’s safe to assume Jacob didn’t grow up in a world like that. If I had to guess, he probably has a mom who raised him right, and raised him to be a man who, drumroll please, protects his woman. I know you ain’t used to that, but I bet he ain’t used to having a woman he doesn’t need to protect. He intervened ‘cause he cares about you.”

He was right. I knew that. I felt like such an asshole. I treated Jake badly and he didn’t deserve that. “This is where you tell me that I’ve got to learn to compromise, huh?”

“Let him take care of you, Kya.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Jake <3 – 8:13 AM

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk?

-

I’m sorry, too. I can come over after work. If you’ll have me.

-

Jake <3 – 8:15 AM

Of course. I’ll make dinner.

I smiled at his offer. He was still willing to go out of his way and put forth an effort, even after our argument. It made me feel better and gave me a little hope that I hadn’t completely fucked everything up.

It was about 6:30 PM by the time I pulled into his driveway. I swallowed my nerves, walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Why the hell am I even nervous?

It didn’t take him long to answer, greeting me with that sweet smile of his. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray hairs peeking out, and he had a dish towel draped over his shoulder. “Hey.” He stepped to the side, allowing me to cross the threshold, and shut the door behind me.

“It smells really good in here.” He demonstrated early in our relationship that he was an excellent cook, and he really enjoyed it. He always jumped at an opportunity to cook for other people. I wondered if it would have been his calling if not for the music.

He grinned. “Thanks. It’s Bolognese. Uh, it’s got to simmer for another ten or fifteen minutes, but it’ll be ready soon. Do you… want a drink? You know, since you never got the one you ordered at the bar last night?”

I furrowed my brow. “Shit, you’re right. I forgot about that drink.” I noticed him fidgeting with his fingers, picking at the cuticles. He’s nervous, too. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled him to me so I could plant a kiss on his lips. “I’ll take you up on that drink. Surprise me.” I smiled sweetly at him, the interaction seeming to calm both our nerves.

He brought me a glass of Amaretto on ice. “My favorite. Suck up.”

Laughing, he retorted, “Babe, I’ll gladly suck up to you however I can, whenever you want me to.”

“I’m not complaining.” Rubbing my thumb across the glass, I averted my gaze to my lap. “I’m sorry about last night, Jake. I know you had good intentions, and I overreacted. I don’t want to make excuses, it’s just not something I’ve had a lot of experience with, someone standing up for me like that. I had to learn how to fend for myself when I was really young. It’s not an easy mindset to break. But it doesn’t give me the right to act like a bitch.”

Jake leaned back on the couch and tilted his head back. “If I’m being honest, I think I was jealous.” He drew in a deep breath. “I saw that guy practically breathing down your neck and it pissed me the fuck off. He had no right to be that close to my girl, you know? But you were right, you had it under control. I shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. And I don’t think you’re stupid or reckless. That was really shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Finishing off my drink, I placed the glass on the table and leaned into him. His arm landed across my shoulders, and I rested my head on his chest. “Of course I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too. I just need you to trust me, let me do my thing. If you can promise me that you’ll try, I promise to try to let you do your thing, too. To let you take care of me.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. “I can definitely do that.” The beeping of a kitchen timer rang through the room. “C’mon, baby, let’s eat.”

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do SMAU for James Vowles with wife bookish!reader? She has always been looking around the paddock with a book. Whenever she goes, there is always one with her. She always liked sharing online what she was reading and wanted to normalize it. The internet is always talking and discussing what book she should read next. As for James, he always supports her hobby as long as she is at his side. Just fluff and cute. So, that's it. Add anything you want to it. I don't mind them. Thanks!! :)))

as a bookworm, I loved writing this fic! and so i hope y'all love reading it

if you want to participate in my 300 followers event, look here :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

AND - if you ever want a part 2 of any of my fics, just ask, and maybe have a vague idea of what you want to occur in the second part and i will gladly help

james vowles x bookish!reader

3 stars

The story of this book was good, however, I had to disregard many other issues in order to stay in sync with it. It started off with many grammatical errors despite it decreasing later on in the novel, it affected the narrative overall. There were redundant phrases that made some parts of the story seem dragged on. I believe the book could have been shorter, a lot shorter than 190 pages. There was no shock factor or suspense in it; maybe because the whole story was already written *on the back of the book*. 🙃

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio, but thank you bahrain for an amazing time. And thank you james for helping me buy all these books.

‘But there is never a day i stop loving you’ - Love letters by ezana Salgado

1 star

There's such a thing as ethereal "dreamy" (A.B. Yehoshua's "The Lover"), and there is incoherency. I don't fault the author entirely in this work, but I suspect it has been overly reworked by an overexcited English-language collaborator with a "bursting-the-seams" exuberance to evoke the Arabian culture that this novel loses the reader. The introduction section gives a glimpse of how much facelift is performed while tweaking the novel into English. There are surely better works to get a closer look at this fascinating locale and time period.

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio. Thanks Saudi Arabia for an awesome time, even if this book was not it. And thank you to james who will listen to all my rants about books that he paid for that i hated.

‘If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land. If my love were a desert, you would see only sand. If my love were a star - late at night, only light. And if my love could grow wings, i’d be soaring in flight.’ - thirteen reasons why

2 stars

Pedestrian. The writing, the story, the characters all just too pedestrian. There was nothing that lifted this book in to the realm of interesting, or even 'mildly interesting'. It's the sort of book I keep in the glove compartment of my car. I know I'm never going to read it but there is always the possibility 

especially with the vehicles I drive of being stuck with a broken-down truck or a road block with nothing to read. That sort of book.

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio. I mean a good thing I guess is that we had the entire flight for me to ignore my husband and read.

‘What am i to you…you are every hope i’ve ever had in human form’ - milk and honey by rupi kaur

4 stars

well that was just lovely.

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio. I love Japan and I love Japanese books, now let’s try and get my husband to like Japan.

‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.’ - notting hill

5 stars

THAT ENDING THOUGH!!!!

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio. Thank you China. And thank you for having authors who write books as amazingly as Chloe Chong.

‘You’re worth the wait’ - happily ever after

3 stars

I like Joy Harjo a lot, by which I guess I mean I have read two of her poems and think about them frequently and also I like the idea of who she is, and I thought this was nice and I like the way she uses language but it did not make me realize things about my own life which is what really gets me going from memoirs

Read the rest of my review from the link in my bio. I wanted to try and read a book that James would read, so he picked this one and it was okay.

‘Because the possibility of you is better than the reality of everyone else’ - twisted hate by ana huang

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[geistundmaterie]

Phenomenology of Mammon

Either what I’m about to write doesn’t make any sense and I’m slowly spiralling down into a state of madness, or I have managed to see the true essence of Mammon.

When one is fascinated by a certain character, it does not happen by a mere accident. Your unconsciousness responses to the seen images with different intensity, some things appearing especially meaningful to you. This text is not an analysis of the obvious allegories that were put into Mammon’s concept. Instead, I attempt to explain why his design and everything related to him “goes hard” and fascinates many at an irrational level.

Clowns and the Transcendence

Mammon is a clown and this fact is meaningful in itself. In human cultures across the globes, the universal transcendental reality is broken down into various local forms. Thus, "truth is one, the sages speak of it by many names". In other words, material reality consisting of concepts and forms is finite. By relying solely on it, one loses some of the possibilities that exist beyond the rational association with the world.

A symbol gives access to the deeper layers of existence which are otherwise inaccessible. For example, the rationally incomprehensible can nevertheless remain expressible in the artistic image. A clown, in turn, is the ultimate symbol of the symbolic expression in itself, as seen in its performances or playing of a role. It is an articulation of a desire to escape the human cerebral way of thinking. Clown’s intuitive trickster nature allows it to access the realm of existence that go being the conventional categories of reason. It exemplifies how a wordless intuitive artistic expression can compensate for the deficiencies of a language. Clowns playfully engage with the reality and lure us into a region of the spirit beyond any material or societal creeds. Thanks to their silly form, clown embodies a statement that point beyond themselves into the realm of everything instinctive and irrational.

In a letter to comedian George Carlin, Byrd Gibbens, a professor of English at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, wrote about the significance of the trickster in indigenous myths:

Many native traditions held clowns and tricksters as essential to any contact with the sacred. People could not pray until they had laughed, because laughter opens and frees from rigid preconception. Humans had to have tricksters within the most sacred ceremonies lest they forget the sacred comes through upset, reversal, surprise. The trickster in most native traditions is essential to creation, to birth.

Balancing between Chaos and Order

The Helluva Boss’ merch of Mammon depicts him in a dynamic and balancing pose. Any good clown is always balancing between chaos and order, not falling into the extremes of both.

One thing those depictions of Mammon instantly remind me of is the World tarot card. It usually represents the archetype of completion, achievement, fulfilment, sense of belonging, wholeness, harmony. This card has a dancing figure at the centre. The figure is constantly in motion, but it moves harmoniously, calmly balancing between opposites. Its expression of unity and fulfilment is eternal yet dynamic rather than simply static. One feels the cosmic rhythm and participates in it. There are four figures on each corner of the tarot card, representative of the four corners of the universe, the four elements, and the four evangelicals. Together, they symbolize the harmony between all of their energies. And all of them are is the dancer’s control. Mammon, in return, has four hands.

In fact, it is not a mere coincidence that The Fool and The World tarot cards both have a dynamic yet balancing figure at their centre: this state is the beginning and the end of all being, starting with unconscious wholeness and moving to its conscious experience. The clown is the perfect synthesis of Apollonian and Dionysian drives: it is a whim that has gained form and purpose. A repressive (Apollonian) society needs a mediator between it and a Dionysian element, a safety valve through which one can give a symbolic satisfaction to the antisocial tendencies. Without the latter, human life is misbalanced. One must experience what Friedrich Schiller called the play drive. It unites the infinite and the finite, instinct and reason, and life and form in the human experience. In order for the play drive to effectively mediate between the body and the mind, humans must develop passivity, practise intuition, and open up to the universe. They also need to practise using reason and active stance towards the world. When both are accomplished, a person can experiences a balance between two polar opposites of being at once; they feel themselves as ever-changing matter and come to know themselves as an eternal mind.

Artistic expression results from the balance and union of two opposed principles of rational and irrational. By being like a clown and engaging with life in a playful, symbolic way, you transcend yourself and become fully human.

Taken from the Shark Robot merch store, Twitter: zllm6

Spider Web and Mandala

Mammon is a spider demon. His territory is packed with spider web visuals, including “the lounge” he sits at during the performances. Spider webs are an unconscious but a meaningful creative phenomena, a beauty that is produced by an instinct. They also bear a striking resemblance to mandalas.

Mandala can be found in all the ancient cultures and is a symbol of life’s innate interconnection and of the Self, a unification of the conscious and unconscious life of the individual. In terms of one’s inner world, it represents the inherent order of the soul in centre of which resides the God itself. A centre that unites all polarities and contains the essence of all that emanates from it. There is no linear evolution; there is only a circumambulation of the Self.

In the mythology of many Native American cultures, an important figure called Spider Grandmother (Hopi Kokyangwuti, Navajo Na'ashjé'ii Asdzáá) can be found. She has a central role in the creation myth as the Creator who spun the “Web of Physical Life”. It is upon the strands of this web that all life is interconnected, with each creature being a vital and integral strand in the cosmic web.

Hence, a spider web can be viewed as a symbol of the organised cosmos and primal source of everything.

Unio Oppositorum

Mammon at his core is a union of opposites. To begin with, he unites the classical dichotomy of matter and spirit in himself. He has animal features and is still a spiritual being. His concept as an “animal deity” also corresponds to the ancient tradition of depicting beings with a divine status as animal-like: Egyptian pantheon of Gods, some Babylonian Gods, three animals following the Evangelists, and so on. Even the Christ was attributed with animal features, being called “a lamb of God”, “a fish”, or being depicted as a snake on a cross. Both, the instinct and the spirit, belong to the wholeness of the cosmos.

Mammon encompasses numerous other opposites within himself: he’s both goofy and dangerous, he’s a “baby” or “a manchild” to some and a sugar daddy to others, he’s lazy and extremely energetic at the same time, he’s fat yet very agile and has a very good body coordination, he has teeth and claws yet reminds you of a teddy bear, he’s both the performer and the manager, he’s both “a rock star” and an traditional artist, he’ll take from you but also give you what you want, his theme music is a combination of a classical circus jingle, a tune from “Carmen” and electric guitar rizz. Despite all the opposites at hand, everything feels natural and balanced in Mammon.

Even Mammon’s black-and-white stripes in his full-demon form indicate the consciousness of the opposites in him: he is not just light or not just dark; he is a combination of the two. This detail of his appearance reminds me of Koshare Pueblo Clowns (sometimes called Sacred Clowns).

For the same reason Mammon’s dualistic patterns on his clothes are extremely fitting and symbolic.

The Double, the Trinity and the Quaternity

“One becomes two, two becomes three, and out of the third comes the one as the fourth.” Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 12: Psychology and Alchemy

Mammon has two Fizzbots sitting beside him. Folk cosmologies commonly feature twins, who are typically engaged in an unending battle with each other. Reality consists of a multiplicity of things: the division into two was necessary in order to bring the ‘one’ world out of the state of potentiality into reality. Dualities coexist in an undifferentiated manner in their natural state. However, the tension between the opposites grows stronger as consciousness awakens. An irrational third, the transcendent function, manifests from this conflict and unites them.

The fact that the Twin Fizzbots look gender ambiguous is meaningful: they are in unison and transcend the sexual duality, with “the transcendent function” being Mammon’s wish to make them androgynous. For the same reason it is very symbolic that in the storyboard, Mammon had two groupies of opposite genders sitting beside him: it is a “the divine pair” of complementary opposites united through Mammon’s equal attraction to them.

In alchemy, a lot is revolved around the “Mystery of Coniuctio” (of the Conjunction, the Marriage of the Opposites). The conjunctio requires a medium for its realization. The fruit of this union is the “Philosopher’s Son”, the Mercurius. He is a trickster entity that balances between two opposites, and is the base and the end of all being, an integration of light and dark, good and bad. This alchemistical process expresses itself in a trinity, tria prima, related to the law of the triangle. The law of the triangle is natural law formed from the union of two opposite but complementary equal halves to produce a perfect manifestation. Consequentially, the Twin Fizzbots (having complementary outfits with patterns on opposite sides!) are joined in Mammon, with them forming a trinity together.

Mammon has four arms. Four is a culturally meaningful number and an omnipresent symbol of the cosmic balance, as expressed in four cardinal direction, the four "Holy Creatures" that bear the Divine Chariot, four seasons of the years, fours functions of the consciousness, etc. Quaternity represents wholeness and universality. Several Hindu deities are often portrayed with four arms. The iconography of four arms symbolises divinity and power, as well as dominion over the four quarters of the universe.

The Rhombus

Mammon’s current costume includes many rhombuses: a shape consisting of two triangles, one downward and one upward pointed, joined together. This geometric symbol represents the unification of low aspects with the upper. Because rhombus contains vertical and horizontal directions simultaneously, it expresses the concept of Unus Mundus that unites matter and spirit instead of treating them as two polar opposites that exclude each other. In other words, it’s a symbol of the Hermetic universal principle: "as above, so below; as below, so above", which is rooted in the ancient Egyptian mysticism and Hellenistic philosophy. According to it, the immortal and eternal realm of the inner world corresponds to the physical and mortal reality of the outer world that we all experience. With that, Mammon displays yet another symbol of a union of opposites.

The Value of Money

Mammon represents the sin of Greed in a physical embodiment. There is nothing he loves more than money, all his endeavours dedicated to making more and more of it. He desires the ultima ratio of all things worldly.

Aside from its economic function, money can be used as a driving force behind action, a benchmark of success or status, a means of expressing one's own value, a tool for exerting control over others, a means of achieving happiness, a solution to problems, a means of defining one's own worth, and a source of security. It is not inherently wicked.

Money also symbolises a storage of concentrated potential energy for later use, it links us to the material world. Soul needs money so it doesn’t fly off into some distant psychic reality. “Laying up treasures in Heaven, where moths and rust can not consume them” leads to disassociation from the material existence, condemning it to a degree it does not deserve. Before your physical death, you are forced to play by the rules of the world that put value on success and material gains. In Jungian school of thought, the first half of human life is dedicated to adapting to the outer world, planting your feet firmly on the ground and accustoming oneself to the conditions imposed on you, learning how to use the material restrictions to one’s advantage. It’s all about the expansion of life and conquering the environment you are inhabiting, which includes learning how to secure yourself and improve your life conditions by earning money.

Mammon is also the supreme patron of money. A demon who can help in accumulating wealth and attracting financial prosperity. So, next time you look at a Mammon standee on you shelf, think about that: could it be that you are creating a little altar to attract his favor? Maybe, on an unconscious level, you seek his blessing in terms of fortune, prosperity, and abundance? Could it be that Mammon keychain on your backpack is a magical charm you feel supported by in your earthly endeavors?

Taken from the Shark Robot merch store, Twitter: kstoooone

Colour Psychology

What are the positive features one could instinctually associate with Mammon’s colours?

In colour psychology, green represent health, life, and prosperity. Being a dominant colour in nature, green is associated with vitality, harmony, and growth. It is a harmonizing, balancing and calming shade. Green is also associated with luck: the Irish believe the wearing of the green brings fortune.

The gold colour is the colour of wealth, achievement, and triumph. Golden colour adds richness and warmth to everything that it comes in contact with. It illuminates and enhances other things around it. It is optimistic and positive, as well as being synonymous with divinity, wisdom and power in many religious settings. It inspires knowledge, spirituality, and a deep understanding of ourselves and our souls. For the alchemist, gold represented the source and end of all being, and the perfection of matter on any level, including that of the mind, spirit, and soul (the famous “Philosopher's Stone”).

Sometimes, purple colour can be seen in things associated with Mammon (his advertisement for Fizzbots, the interior of his concert building, etc.). Purple, green and gold are Mardi Gras colours.

Mammon’s merchandise usually feature lime green, a hue mixture of yellow and green. Lime green is a bright, electric colour full of vibrancy and energy. It is a colour closely associated with confidence, and is thought to promote feelings of liveliness and excitement. It is also a colour that is said to stimulate the mind and body, and to promote creativity.

In conclusion, Mammon’s visual appearance features colours that have a psychologically vitalising and positive effect on the viewer, making him a very pleasant character to look at.

KA-CHING!

The known laws of physics forbid the movement through the outer space of either mass or energy faster than the light speed. Mammon doesn’t care about that, he simply teleports wherever he pleases.

The trickster archetype is a “boundary-crosser”. They violate principles of social and natural order, playfully disrupting normal life and then re-establishing it on a new basis. They will dismantle, construct, manifest themselves, move, and perform tricks that seem to bend all notions of causality, normality, and sense. All your prior knowledge and assumptions will be casually thrown out the window by these entities. They excel at manipulating reality to their will and breaking the laws of physics. The strangeness of Mammon does not end there. Where does the „ka-ching“ sound and confetti come from? What are those voices of cheering kids? Mammon is a reality warper and uses his abilities in the most childish yet endearing way possible. You are confronted with something that blows up your categories of judgement and does not give you a coherent explanation for anything you saw. These are just facts you need to somehow integrate into your established picture of reality.

The Jester and the Death

There could be a very profound symbolism behind Mammon’s skeleton suit.

The medieval understanding held that the root of all foolishness was the denial of God (logos, ratio). Any detachment from human reason, or the instinctive, irrational, and impulsive behavior that prioritizes desire over purposeful thought, was referred to in this context as "foolishness." Foolishness and sin were set on the same level. Those who denied the existence of God were doomed to eternal death after their life on Earth had ended because they rejected the idea of an immortal soul (and, instead, lived a life of an irrational desire-driven “animal”).

The Fall of Man brought death into the world. Adam and Eve lose both paradise and immortality when they choose to follow the serpent instead of God. The Old Testament provides an explanation for the two greatest mysteries of human existence: first, the imperfection of man and, second, the temporal limitation of his existence. If original sin is the reason for death and if foolishness has the same meaning as the original sin, then foolishness should also have a causal connection with death. This was, in fact, the conviction of people in the late Middle Ages.

The fool and the death are believed to have a kinship relationship in the Dance of the Death frescoes. The death appears in numerous depictions of it dressed as a jester. During the turn of the Middle Ages, there are actually a lot of visual arts examples where death and the jester are viewed as counterparts (window niche in the monastery of St. Georgen in Stein am Rhein; choir stalls of the church of St. George in Nördlingen, collegiate church of Öhringen in Hohenlohe, etc.).

The other implied connection is the fact that the Carnival (“carne vale”) is followed by the Ash Wednesday (“remember man that you are dust, and to dust you shall return”). Two aspects of man’s limitations (flesh and death) are thus seen as affiliated with each other in the liturgical year.

The Devil, the Jester und the Death are the Unholy Trinity of Christian visual art.

Truth is One, One is All, All is One

Cultural similarities across the globe underline the facts that, despite things being expressed in different ways, our psyche tries to communicate the same truths. All cultural manifestations have their unique features, but within their areas of action one can recognize the same archetypal patterns. Jungian analysts and mythologists pointed to the plethora of tricksters around the world.

Firstly, Mammon reminds me of the Laughing Buddha (Budai or Hotei) from Eastern cultures. His well-fed appearance represents abundance. When you observe the most popular form of the laughing Buddha closely, you will notice that he is always carrying a cloth bag that is filled with many precious items such as food, candies for children, and other riches. According to the belief, he will collect all your sadness and misfortune, put it in his sack and leave you with abundance and positivity. The sack also represents wealth and good fortune.

The most popular colour for household Laughing Buddha sculptures is gold. Even though it is a Feng Shui sign, Vastu Shastra experts also advocated for the placing of Laughing Buddhas in the home. To them, the smiling Buddha is comparable to Kubera (the god of wealth). Lord Kubera, celebrated as the Supreme Lord of Wealth and revered as the Treasurer of the Gods, stands as the epitome of affluence in Hindu mythology. Business owners and shopkeepers, seeking to accumulate wealth, turn their devotion toward Kubera.

Lastly, Mammon’s affiliation with the wealth and his jester nature draw parallel to the Roman God Mercury. He is a trickster and the god of commerce. His name is related to the Latin word merx, from which we get the English words merchandise, merchant, and commerce. It may also correspond to the Latin word mercari (to trade). Mercury often served as a mediator between the gods and mortals, including being a guide to the people who descended into the Underworld. Considering the fact that “the Underworld” is a symbol of the unconsciousness, this perfectly correlates with the previously mentioned ability of a clown to perfectly balance between rational and irrational state of being.

As stated above, the alchemy symbolically views Mercurius as the resulting “child” of the Union of Opposites, the restoration of the original undifferentiated state of the cosmos. The tria prima of alchemy needing for the achievement of this state consist of “sulphur, salt and mercury”. Sulfur, the "soul", is the masculine principle. Salt, as the "body", is the feminine principle. Mercury, as "spirit", is equivalent to "mind". Hence, the mystical trinity is: Soul, Body, Mind. It is, however, important to consider that the mind has two aspects (conscious and subconscious, left and right). This is metaphorically expressed in the balancing act of Mercury. This is why Mercury is often depicted with wings, he literally "flies between the two worlds". In the “In the mountain of the Adepts” engraving from Stephan Michelspacher's “Alchemia”, one can spot Mercurius at the top centre, being depicted as a playful, jester-like figure, standing in the same balancing pose like the Mammon standee.

Taken from the Shark Robot merch store, Twitter: kstoooone Conclusion

Mammon provides us with a plenitude of symbolic insight into the topics that continue to stay vitally relevant. Seeing Mammon is enough to feel like coming in contact with a primordial deity. You are confronted with something greater that yourself and experience “mysterium tremendum et fascinans”. Mammon is undoubtedly the best character ever created by the Western civilization.

*gives his cheek a smooch*

[yuurei20]

Hello! It's me again. Thank you for answering my last ask.

I went and found some more voice lines. Sadly, I cannot screenshot the audio, but here's the English translations of the lines from Jack's dorm uniform, Rook's Halloween costume, Malleus' GloMas outfit, Kalim's New Year getup, Silver's Halloween costume, and Silver's Birthday Boy clothes. It's worth noting that Deuce calls Kalim "Asim-senpai" in the New Year's duo.

Hope this helps! (I only have the Jack, Malleus, and Rook shown here, the rest I got via the helper cards in Crafter's Gauntlet battles. lol.)

Hello hello, thank you so much!! I checked the audio on all of the above cards and with the exception of the usual removal of honorifics, the official translations on EN are all perfect! :>

Have put together an original dialogue/literal translation comparison just for fun, but they're all great as they are!

Jack's phrasing here is probably meant to be a wolf-based pun, as the word he is using (かます) both means to defeat a person/win a challenge in one go, and is also pronounced the same as the word 嚙ます, for "to bite."

So technically he is saying both "let's bite them" and "let's finish them off" simultaneously, which isn't really something that can be portrayed in English.

Ruggie's response of "熱くなっちゃって" is kind of Ruggie saying, "You always get so heated!" or "passionate" or "worked up."

The word "hade" (派手) comes up a lot with Kalim, but can be so difficult to express in English. It can be said as "flashy," "gaudy," etc. Basically, to go very big!

Deuce's response is the same on EN and is a word of encouragement (it is actually かます again, from Jack's Duo, as Deuce is encouraging Kalim to take out their opponent), but Deuce is also saying "please."

And then there is Deuce's use of last-name-senpai being changed to a first name without an honorific which, as you say, is worthy of note!

Deuce's way of expressing himself connects directly to his past violence and his present-day efforts to reform himself; an important part of the character that might just be impossible to translate into english. (More here!)

Malleus and Sebek's lines are both perfectly accurate on EN, although "-sama" has been removed from Sebek's dialogue.

The game has an interesting relationship with the "-sama" honorific. Sebek's "Malleus-sama" gets rewritten into "Housewarden Malleus" or dropped, while it is localized as "Mr.," "Master," "O Great," "O mighty" or "Count" with other characters.

Rook's Halloween Duo dialogue is perfectly accurate! Interestingly, while Trey and Riddle both have "roses" in their nicknames, Riddle's is pronounced as the English/French word "rose," while Trey's is pronounced as the Japanese word "bara" (薔薇).

(All of Rook's nicknames (including changes made between servers) can be found here!)

Silver's Halloween Duo is also perfectly accurate, with just the loss of "-senpai" from Silver.

Leona's line is a great example of how flexible the Japanese language is, depending so heavily on context as it does: technically all Leona is saying is the word "show," in a command form. He isn't specifying what it is that he wants Silver to show to him, so while we can infer that this would probably be "show me what you've got" or "show me how it's done," etc, in English, he could technically also be saying "show me what's in your hands" or "show me what you're hiding," etc.

(If you've ever wondered how some translations can vary so wildly between sources, this is part of why!)

Silver's Birthday Duo is also perfectly accurate, missing only the "-kun" from Ruggie.

Unlike Cater, who also uses honorifics in 100% of his dialogue (except with Trey in important situations), when Leona overblots Ruggie doesn't shift to calling him by name: he calls him a casual form of "you," which is equally fascinating. (More here)

Also, combined the above screenshots with their corresponding audio for reference, here!

[starlight-eclipsed]

Thanks for clarifying the sentence—it mostly made sense but that middle part was giving me serious trouble. I don’t think I would have figured it out without help.

Makes sense that I didn’t get it though—haven’t played totk—so I had zero references. I like seeing the language differences between what I presume is some variant of sky’s Julian compared to wild’s! It’s still intelligible but with very clear differences in spelling.

Adore that the Zonai were the ones to continue on telling the story of the hero of the sky and why. Of course the funky cat/dragon sky people told the story of the hero of the sky! It’s really fun world-building and yeah of course the people living in the sky would relate to a hero from similar circumstances (added bonus of claiming the god slayer to their line of succession). It’s a multipurpose legend!

Furthermore, it explains why Hylia is so prevalent in botw compared to literally any other game (not counting Skyward Sword). The retelling of the hero of the sky meant that some of those cultural practices got passed down to Wild’s era but it shifted from formal worship to more intimate worship. It’s utterly fascinating!

Please continue to give me world building! Are there any other headcanons you have on the other Hyrules or characters?

I wonder what sky’s reaction to knowing how prevalent he is still in wild’s era is?

Of course! To answer that last bit first: he's surprised to know that his hero title is remembered, but he doesn't know the true extent of how much people still know about him. He also isn't aware of how much time is between their eras--he knows that it's pretty distant, but to be fair he's used to interacting with long-lived beings from distant times. Sky hasn't really processed what it means for Wild's era to still remember him.

As for the rest: I'm not sure you understand what you're opening the door for, but I'm always down to talk world building and headcanons so let's go :D

Termina is in Lorule. It's from a timeline where their Triforce was never destroyed, so it's a lot healthier and resembles Hyrule more. Rifts between the lands still exist but are significantly more stable, so it's not uncommon for someone or something from one land to cross into the other. That's how Hilda was able to learn of Hyrule's Triforce--someone from Hyrule fell into their lands. It's more difficult in the other direction, and anyone who left Lorule while it was crumbling away was more than happy to pretend like it never existed, so that's why Zelda didn't know about it.

Seers are a big thing in Hyrule, and are the reason the different timelines know about each other. That said, visions of the past/future are indistinguishable from alternate timelines, so they don't actually know they sometimes see things from alternate realities--they just think they must've gotten something wrong. Seers that are able to catch glimpses of the heroes on their journey will often have their visions recorded as 'history'. This is why the mural in TP's castle town is so weird: it's an amalgamation of OoT and WW.

The Oocca tribe was related to the Interlopers. They used to be the same tribe of Hylian sorcerers that lived within the Sacred Realm. Much like the Sheikah/Yiga of botw, a schism formed and fighting broke out, with the force of their magic threatening to destroy the land. Those who would become the Twili were banished to the Twilight, and the others were sent to the sky (being given the Rito treatment in the process). Neither side would recognize the other, between the physical transformations and the amount of time that's passed.

Agitha(TP) is a descendant of Strich(SS). Her family is one of the oldest in the kingdom--and among the wealthiest.

Weather in this world is the work of spirits (technically they're a kind of fairy). It's all very localized, so that's why things like the Rod of Seasons and Song of Storms don't have disastrous global consequences. The Gale Boomerang houses one such spirit.

The moon cycle is associated with the Golden Goddesses. This is actually something I wrote in one of my wips (this one is gonna take years to finish, I just know it), so I'm gonna copy that section over:

“The moon’s magic only changes during a full moon, but I was talking about the offering part. Nayru is a-so-see-ate-ed with the in-between full and new moons.” Zelda chewed her lip in thought a bit before lighting up. “Because she’s the Goddess of Time!” He nodded with a face-splitting grin. “Din’s the new moon, ‘cuz she’s the start of the cycle and you need her fire to see well during it. And Farore is the full moon, ‘cuz she’s the end of the cycle and blesses the land with new life.”

To build off that last point, the Blood Moon is Ganon hijacking the full moon's normal power of respawning natural resources. And yes, this is my in-universe explanation for how Hyrule's ecosystem recovers so quickly and is so abundant. Ganon is very rightfully jealous--the one from OoT keeps trying to grab the Triforce of Courage for Farore's association but it never works.

And yes, the respawning thing applies to those who hold the Triforce of Courage.

The Downfall Timeline is already a retcon in of itself so I don't care too much about changing details: the hero never opened the door to the Sacred Realm in that timeline.

Chuchus take on the properties of magic they absorb, with varying degrees of efficiency depending on the era. Most are carnivorous and prefer to eat things while they are alive--the ones in TP have a broad enough diet to consume all ingredients necessary to brew a potion with their own body.

Cuccos aren't actually animals--they're actually related to the Lizalfos/Dynalfos/Aeralfos line. Much like Wolfos, Hylians domesticated them anyway.

[beylinine]

eddsworld headcanons go!!!

remembered this is my blog and i can post whatever i want

why is this so much, i even tried to condense it ToT

i love these guys idc idc

linking to this doodle i made of them for visuals

For age sake in this, post- The End

Edward 'Edd' Golbey (27, 187cm/ 6'1, unlabelled-demisexual) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Mexican heritage, knows a little bit of culture from maternal grandpa

-few holiday traditions, simple spanish (Swears, as well ofc), music

Has lived in the same area in North London all of his life

School subjects would be like Art (ofc), Media Studies, and Maths (idk how GCSEs worked in the early 2000s but wtv)

Middle child. Older sister Lucielle and younger brother Oliver

Met Matt in primary. Met Tord in sixth form. Met Tom in uni.

Divorce, clean break. Single mum Clara, double christmas dad Charles

Family home, people moved out, mum went to live with new husband in the West Country.

-Edd last man standing, with Ringo

Rescued Ringo after he left school

Degree in Mathematics, worked private sector for a few years before quitting and focusing on art

will help family and friends with taxes for money

relationships and friendships mean a lot to him

was a lowkey menace as a kid, matt can confirm, but has become a gentle giant

Likes coins, appreciating their designs, but can't collect them because he will spend them

Loves, LOVES Halloween (Mainly bc it's also his birthday)

Competitive with racing games

he's just a lad

.

Internally, absolutely devastated over what Tord did.

he thought that they were...he though that they were friends

Doesn't believe it actually happened, he tells himself as he takes the trash down to the building's bin room

Matthew McLloyd (27, 181cm/ 5'11, asexual panromantic)

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🇮🇪

Was born in Ireland but moved closer to mum's family when he was young.

Only child, pampered for real

Messy divorce when he was a teen, single mam Louise & resentment for dad

Focus on English and language in school, but has always been fascinated by hair salons which led to him getting certified after school

Doesn't trust anyone else with his own hair, lets be real

Edd's teacher appointed best friend

Low-key mean boy during his teens but learns to hide his attitude as he gets older

Did not really like Tord or Tom when they started hanging out around Edd, but learned to tolerate and sometimes enjoy their friendship

Works at a local hair salon and loves to gossips like its no ones business

Dislikes ketchup

.

tries to keep a level head and high spirits after everything, knowing edd and tom went through a lot

Thomas Jack Pinnell (24, 171cm/ 5'7, bi-demiromantic)

🇺🇸🇹🇷🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Grew up in Oxford

English Ama, Lina Pinnell. American Dad, Vincent Namli. Were together but not married.

-RIP dad when he was young

Older sister Maya, fighting yet got his interests from her (helping his sister dye her hair in their bathroom in exchange for staying up past bedtime)

Mum started seeing an old boyfriend of hers, William, after being a widow for a few years

-Awkward but chill stepdad-stepchildren situation

Focused on Music (ofc), geography, and home-economics in school

Was made fun of for height (and home-ec) but fought back. lots of detention and visits to the nurse as a teen

-yet he also was also a bully for a bit

Went to uni for technology, got a local job as a bartender for free drinks

-got his bartending certification

Dropped out after a year, but stayed around in a dingy flat, still working at the bar and doing odd jobs here and there

Kept hanging out with Edd, Matt, and Tord for the vibes

Played bass in his spare time, got better at cooking

Collects pins/badges of his favourite bands, shows, movies, and random ones

a bit scared of horses, there's just something about them

Friendship with Tord goes down after about a year or two, physical fights sours a lot of their meetings, so they don't talk to each other when possible

Moves in with Edd only after another year or so go by because he can't stand the idea of living with Tord, but for a cut back on rent and bigger room some sacrifices must be made

the two manage to tolerate one another, but after more years, it goes back to shit

Gets a job as a bartender at a popular music venue, free drinks and music? yes

.

terrified of death. will wake up screaming at night from memories of the house crumbling around him

Tord Vicente Nilsen (25, 177cm/ 5'9, pansexual)

🇨🇱 🇳🇴

Ama, Violeta Sepúlveda. Papp, Espen Nilsen.

Two sisters, Andrea and younger Elise. Older Cousin, Nilo.

-Papp fell in love with Ma while on a trip to Santiago. Wrote to her for two years before going back to marry her. Violeta was raising her dead sister’s son, Nilo, as her own, Espen didnt mind and welcomed him.

-Lived with her for two years in Chile, had Andrea there, moved everyone to Norway later and had Tord and Elise there.

When Tord was 14, the family moved to England for a change.

-Focused on technology, science, and art in school

Was very welcomed by Edd at school, even though the year differences, they both liked drawing and the same games

Spanish, Norwegian, and English speaker

Football lad, F1 enjoyer, overall competitive

loser in his early adult years,

-Goes to school for engineering

Kept talking and hanging out with Edd, and Matt was there too

Losing a game to Tom domino effect to take over the world?

-not quite but it was start of the frenemies.

-he was shorter and younger, add the anger issues, it was so easy for Tord to poke fun

Partakes in protests about issues he cares about and enjoyed making the occasional political cartoon

Tinkerbell more like TinkerTord, always tinkering away in his room as he moves in with Edd at the end of uni since his parents had moved back to Norway

-one of his sisters and cousin moved across the isles.

Picked up smoking during uni but only does it once in a while

A very proud man (though he do be a loser still)

.

yeah thats it for now, i'll update and change this around for my own reference but eee

[haven-of-dusk]

More Caswen Headcanons because I have too many of these to fit in my mindbrain:

This one's long. A few years after their wedding, Ricky is selected as one of the Greene Foundation's Global Ambassadors for the Universal Language Project, or in other words, he gets to travel the world a bit to help encourage musical education globally. EJ doesn't have to come with him...but he does want to, so he quits his job (cordially, they understand it's not like he hates it there) and learns as much as he can about the variants of sign language in the areas they'll be traveling to so he can interpret for Ricky. Ricky also attempts to learn some, but really only succeeds in remembering 'Sorry' 'Please' and 'I love you'.

Building on that last one, EJ's favourite location they live for a period is Sweden, while Ricky's favourite is a tie between Wales and Italy. As a result of that, once they finish Ricky's time as an Ambassador, they settle in Copenhagen and EJ lands a job at the University of Copenhagen while he works on a second Masters degree there.

They adopt a Bernese Mountain Dog name Lykke and a Husky named Kota (because I couldn't resist).

One of EJ's nicknames for Ricky is 'Mr. Whiskers' for twofold reasons, because whenever EJ plays with Ricky's hair he leans into it like a cat, and also because of EJ enjoying the time Ricky attempted to grow facial hair.

They both cry at emotional movie moments. Frequently.

Ricky: Golden Retriever Boyfriend, EJ: Black Cat Mask hiding another Golden Retriever Boyfriend

EJ watches anime because he's fascinated by the art form, Ricky watches with him because he enjoys the stories, the colors, and any excuse to cuddle with his husband.

EJ drinks coffee in the morning, Ricky does not, but since he's up earlier anyway, EJ makes it a habit to visit one of a few local cafés every couple days and pick up a different pastry each time for Ricky's sweet tooth.

Speaking of which, Ricky loves couple costumes for Halloween, which EJ's willing to go along with out of love.

Ricky always knows when EJ is getting too stressed about work and will come up (much like a cat or dog) and demand attention until EJ relents and takes a break.

EJ is very much a New Years person, and thus Ricky has a bunch of contacts lined up for restaurant/event dates around that time.

Ricky found out how much he loves traveling while they were moving around for the Ambassador thing, so EJ always arranges a 2+ week vacation in the summer to at least one location they haven't been yet. Sometimes with at least one of the other Wildcats joining them.

[diabeticlady]

Skyrim Stuff Part 3!

At this point I'm hoping that my Skyrim save doesn't fall apart. I still have like a good forty or so entries left so... we'll be good for now! To be honest the most upsetting part of the possible save death would be all the time I have put into writing these. I've delved into Elder Scrolls lore to try and ensure that it all makes sense. With my specific fascination with Wayrest I even went and got Daggerfall started and running so I can mess with the Knightly Orders and Nobles there. Fantastic and free game you can play through Daggerfall Unity. Though I doubt anyone reading fucking Skyrim modded playthrough RP is unfamiliar. Thank you to all that do read this, even if you don't like it. Anyways, enough rambling, back to some more entries!

Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201

This place has turned itself into some form of giant death trap. I do not know what the Nords of old were trying to protect but I am left wondering how long these contraptions of death have been left swinging. I managed to easily dodge through the swinging axes, and was perceptive enough to notice the hanging jars of burning oil, ready to be released. Another note to self, do not burn these undead. The smell was nearly enough to make me throw up right then and there. Would have been a terrible way to go out, mid swordfight. Nonetheless, as I venture deeper inside the purpose of this Golden Claw became apparent. Another wall with symbols on it required my touch. The Golden Claw was no more than a key! To be used to enter this large cave area. I found an excavation site nearby, and gathered a few remnants from it. However that was hardly the oddest thing that happened. There was this wall, etched into it some form of runes. A language long since forgotten, perhaps? What matters most is that as I approached this wall, I found myself absorbing some type of magic. Just like the runes, I can only assume that this magic is ancient and esoteric. I only hope that whatever it is that I absorbed is not evil in some form. It was quite heavily guarded after all. Maybe this is what the undead here were trying to protect? I will have to speak to some local wizards, to help understand what I have uncovered. There was one last undead foe that rose from their tomb, though they were still easily dispatched. It also seemed to shout at me, propelling magic through its voice. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. I found another piece of possible treasure on its corpse (though it was technically already a corpse), some slab of rock with something etched into it. I lived through the catacombs, but now I just have more and more questions.

Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201

I went down from where that catacomb left me, and decided to head back to that quaint little town I had seen earlier. Riverwood is what it is called. Along the way I stumbled across another piece of odd architecture, though unlike the catacomb. I don't know what it is, but I found a note nearby, and I am yet to read it. Will do so after this entry. Anyways, after resting at the local inn (that makes two), I stopped by the local merchant to acquire supplies and food. Apparently the Golden Claw was some relic of his, which I kindly returned. Got paid 400 septims for that, my first quest complete, even if I completed it unknowingly. I am pretty well stocked on food now, and also managed to tackle another little trouble-spot. A nearby mine. I had seen bandits near it, and so I went in assuming that the mine was being attacked by them. Little did I know, the bandits had completely taken control of it. They were still weak compared to me, easily felled by my blade. The poor miners inside though, I found a journal that spoke about how they were enslaved by the bandits, forced to mine the iron in the cave under cruel cruel conditions. I hope that they receive a pleasant rest, from the Divine Mother. I am headed back to Whiterun, I need to meet with the court wizard there. Maybe they can help explain what magic I absorbed in that catacomb.

Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201

I have arrived back in Whiterun. After some shopping, I have decided to relax at the Bannered Mare. This will be the last journal entry for today, as I plan on getting myself drunk. Though, there are already plans for tomorrow. I read the note I found on the unknown structure. Apparently it was Dwemer? Either way, I have the remains of someone to find. Sounds like it'll be fun. I also spoke with the person who owns the inn, a lovely lady by the name of Hulda. They were not kidding about Nord size, as the woman towers over me! Anyways, the lass spoke of some odd going ons in the town of Helgen. I checked my map, it is not far from Riverwood. I have no clue what that is about, might be related to the tensions I have heard about going on in Skyrim, with the Stormcloaks and the Imperials. Either way, another place I need to check out.

[jeannereames]

Hello Dr. Reames! When you decide to read a history book on your free time - and a book completely unrelated to your area of expertise - but you know nothing about said topic, you're only interested in learning about it. How do you choose which book you'll read?

FANTASTIC question. Thank you for asking it.

Let’s Talk How to Evaluate the Quality of a Book NOT on/in Your Specialization or Field

I’m going to start with some general bullet points of advice with discussion. Then I’ll give a concrete example of a book (or set of them) that I decided not to buy after a little rummaging.

The Basics

(These may seem obvious, but a lot of folks ignore them, like they skip over reading the introduction. Always read the book’s introduction!)

Who’s the author?

Most books have, on the back cover or inside, a note about the author. Also, google the person. Do they have a professional degree or some form of special training/ experience (e.g., say, they worked on a dig)? If they’re a professor, where do they teach? (But don’t put too much on that; the state of academia today means highly respected scholars could end up in Podunk Mississippi just to find a job.)

What type of book is it and who’s the intended audience?

Is it an academic book meant for other specialists? A book intended for use as a textbook? Something marketed to general audiences: “pop” history, or creative non-fiction? These may all be well-done. Yet if I’m wanting to learn about a topic I’m not familiar with, I specifically seek out a textbook, as they're geared to teach the topic to non-specialists. They won’t go down a research rabbit hole. Specifically in ancient history, those “Companion to…” collections are great, as you get multiple experts weighing in on what they know the most about. And they're intended for interested readers but not specialists in that particular topic. Also they’re curated by an editor who IS a specialist, so you know the chosen authors are respected in the field.

When was it written?

If the publication date is 50 years ago, it’s been superseded. It might be out of date even if it’s 20 years ago—or 10. But newer is not necessarily better.

What press published it?

Princeton, Cambridge, Brill/DeGruyter, Berkeley, Peeters, Harvard, Chicago. Any would be a good sign. But the University of Oklahoma does not mean it’s a bad book. (Beth Carney’s important first monograph on Macedonian women came from UOk.) University presses can corner the market on a particular topic: Univ. of Nebraska does a LOT of native history. Also, it may not be a university press at all. Routledge is perfectly respectable, as are Bloomsbury and Penguin. For local histories or something niche, you may get publication by a historical society, not a major press at all. (I picked up a perfectly fine book about ghost stories in the city of Savannah done by the local historical society.) BUT IF IT’S SELF-PUBLISHED, that’s a big ol’ Red Flag.

Going a Little Deeper

Ask somebody you know, who IS a specialist in the field, if they’ve read the book and what they think

Depending on your personal circle, this may not be possible.

Find a review (or three)

I regularly teach my undergrads (and grad students) to look for reviews.

Look at the bibliography

Probably more important for academic books, but how long is the biblio? Yes, topics can have more or fewer publications, but it should go on for some pages. Also, is it all in just one language? Some fields may tend that way (much American history), but a well-done monograph in, say, Greek or Roman history should not be monolingual in the research.

Actually check (don’t ignore) footnotes

They tell stories. Again, this largely pertains to academic books, but you can find fun (and occasionally catty) scholarly quarrels in them. Very early in my reading on Alexander, I became fascinated by the back-and-forth in footnotes between the “Three Bs” (Badian, Borza, and Bosworth) plus Green and Hammond. BUT some red flags: 1) the author disproportionately citing themself, especially if it’s because 2) the author seems to have quarrels with a large number of colleagues. Maybe the author is just original! But sometimes that tells you their conclusions are questionable. Use your common sense.

Now, for a concrete example … as some of you know, I have American indigenous ancestry, specifically Peoria-Miami (Myaamia). While I know some things about our tribe, I’m far from an expert. On our Facebook page, one of the other members recently dropped mention of a series on the early history of Indiana, and the conflicts between settlers and natives during the French-Indian Wars—including St. Clare’s Defeat, effected by the Myaamia and led by Little Turtle (Mihshihkinaahkwa), the worst defeat [proportionally] ever suffered by American troops.

I thought, Oh, cool, maybe I should pick these up and read them in my “copious” spare time. E.g., probably years from now.

I followed the provided link, and immediately thought, This doesn’t look good. Page ran on forever, not well organized, and I had to hunt for info about the author. Although he was a retired schoolteacher, he didn’t seem to have any specific training in doing historical research; I don’t think he was even a history major in college (probably did education). Additionally, the book-covers and purchasing info made it clear all the books were self-published, and the provided text snippets contained grammar errors.

Yeah, I left that page bookless. Maybe the info in them was perfectly fine and he just couldn’t find a publisher who wanted creative non-fiction about an event most people have never heard of led by a chief with a name most can’t pronounce…. But I’m going to bet the research matched the grammar: slap-dash.

Now, that was a relatively easy one to figure out; I spent all of 10 minutes on the page. (And no, I’m not naming the author nor linking to the books, as this is an example, not an attempt to humiliate the person.) But it gives you some idea how I evaluate books in a field very far from my own specialty.

———————

* Although that said, they’re starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel to come up with new topics for Yet Another “Companion to….” Some I’ve seen would be better just sold as a collection on X topic, not “Companion to….”

[blackjackkent]

So Rakha has quietly gotten fascinated by the idea of Ilmater and her curiosity has been caught, very slightly, by the question of the murdered priest, so on we progress to where a round little flying elephant is sassing the locals.

(This is all honestly kind of fun for me because when I played through this with Hector he came into the temple through the back way and investigated the murder scene before talking to anyone, so I'm entertained to be learning how this situation is actually meant to be experienced in the correct order. :P )

"Look, Investigator," another tired-looking priest is saying earnestly as Rakha approaches. "Brilgor might have been a criminal, but he was no murderer. You're missing something! You have to be!"

"Enough, Yannis!" the floating elephant says disdainfully. "Listen to yourself! You are defending a man who ritually slaughtered your high priest!" She gestures with one hooved foot, as if ticking off items on a list. "The evidence speaks for itself. Brilgor killed Father Lorgan, then be it out of shame or profane duty, offed himself with the same blade. Case closed, Sister Yannis!"

Without waiting for a response, she floats off, leaving the priest fuming behind her.

"Shitey little elephant," the priest mutters - then jumps, realizing that she's not yet alone. "Oh, um, I apologize, stranger," she tells Rakha hastily. "Language like that hardly befits a rector of Ilmater."

Rakha tips her head questioningly. Ilmater, the priest up front said, is a god of forgiveness, one who might see even herself as a kind soul. "I don't imagine Ilmater cares about you swearing," she says, puzzled.

The priest laughs ruefully. "I suppose you're right. The Crying One has much more on his plate than curse words, given what happened here."

Rakha looks around. "What *did* happen here?"

"Two people just died on temple grounds," the priest explains. "Our high priest, Father Lorgan, and one of the new refugees, Brilgor. Investigator Valeria thinks it a murder, and is content to blame Brilgor - the politically convenient target."

(A/N: Love that there's a Dark Urge-specific line option here - "Don't be disrespectful; killing is a form of worship.")

There's been an itch growing at the back of Rakha's mind since they first learned someone had died here; with this simple and direct explanation, it grows suddenly in strength. She flinches as a stab of pain goes through her temple, and with it comes a rolling surge of memory. Her own hand carving through throats with the tip of a dagger. Her own voice, resonant with ritual intensity, dedicating the murder to her Father, consecrating the blood spilled in his name.

Her breath catches and she realizes that her head has ducked, her shoulders hunched as if sheltering against a physical blow. The priest looks at her curiously, and she struggles to reclaim control of her thoughts and speak. "What... makes Brilgor politically convenient?" she asks unsteadily.

"Brilgor was a refugee," the priest says sadly. "No one sticks up for them at the best of times, and with Gortash in power..."

Jaheira speaks up suddenly from behind them, making Rakha jump. "They make a fine target for the real culprit, too," she says bitterly. "Unlikely to be missed where they weren't wanted to begin with."

(A/N: Suddenly recalling that Jaheira was herself a refugee from the fall of the royal line in Tethyr. She was taken in by druids, but nevertheless I wonder if she sees something a little too close to home in these people expelled from theirs.)

The priest nods. "Well. I expect the Flaming Fist will ban refugee aid, no one of them's blamed for murder."

This, Rakha thinks, seems impractical. If the city is concerned with not being able to provide for these newcomers, why shutter temples that are offering in their stead? Then again... nothing about this makes sense, she's starting to realize. And that itch still sits at the back of her head, that glee of the beast that comes from outside herself, knowing that her Father's will was worked somewhere in this place.

-----

"I want to see the murder scene," she says abruptly.

Yes... yes, see the place where the blood was spilled and Bhaal honored...

Minthara blinks at her. "For what purpose?"

She knows the true reason - that something in her head demands it -but the though shames her. "Perhaps we can... help the refugees. Clear their names," she says haltingly, looking towards Wyll and Jaheira. To her relief, they nod approval, and she turns and stalks away deeper into the temple.

[pikapeppa]

re: your post about quen glyphs... it's possible that the old focuses they found in the delta were formatted to work w/ simplified chinese characters... after all, the focuses are pre-zero dawn and would have been formatted to whatever the local ppl used, right? its even possible that being able to write and speak simplified chinese in addition to any other languages that a focus could be formatted to might be something on the diviners examinations alva talks about... (also the fascinating implications that the quen might have had the only record of other languages existing pre-apollo)

I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS. But I wanted to do it when I had time and brainpower to fully think it through 😂

So this ask is in relation to my tags on this gorgeous photo, where I remarked that it's weird for this beautiful Quen person to be carrying a tablet with what look like nonsense glyphs, when we know canonically that the Quen read and write English in the Roman alphabet. This is in contrast with the Oseram, for instance, who read and write English in their own original glyph system (as evidenced by Erend having trouble learning to read the Old Ones' glyphs).

For the purposes of this reply, I'm going to focus on Mandarin and Cantonese as the spoken forms of "Chinese" since they're the most familiar Chinese languages, and since Mandarin is considered the "standard" Chinese language. Before I start, I should also point out that there is no such thing as spoken simplified Chinese; "simplified Chinese" refers to a variation of written Chinese that's usually used to transcribe the spoken language of Mandarin, whereas "traditional Chinese" refers to the written variation of Chinese that's usually used to transcribe Cantonese.

ALSO, STRAP IN, BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO GET A LITTLE NERDY HERE. I'm a speech-language pathologist by day (smut writer by night! 👹) and my favourite class in undergrad was a course about writing systems of the world, so I'm just giving advance warning that YOU ASKED FOR THIS. 😂😂😂

Okay, diving in now! That's a really good point re: the Focuses in the Great Delta -- it would make sense for many of the Focuses there to be set to display in Mandarin and/or Cantonese, and thus for the "glyph system" to be simplified or traditional Chinese characters, respectively. But if we're sticking to canon lore, the Quen don't speak other languages. There is a datapoint from Alva about this where she expresses some (VERY ACCURATE AND ADORABLE) disgust at Ted Faro for the loss of all languages except the Zero Dawn "default" language of English. If we're taking this at face value (and I see no reason why Alva would lie about this in her notes), then even if the Focuses were formatted to display Chinese characters, the Quen wouldn't be able to read them. This would also explain why being a Diviner is a rare and highly-prized role: it would probably be rare for the Focuses they found to be set in English, and those English Focuses would be even more prized and revered since they're interpretable.

Now, we might wonder why the Quen wouldn't be able to learn to speak Mandarin or Cantonese by deciphering the glyphs on a Chinese-formatted Focus. The problem is that the Quen have no spoken language to map the Chinese characters onto. Chinese characters are not an alphabet, and thus there's no one-to-one correspondence between a character and a sound or a sequence of sounds; instead, Chinese characters are largely morphographic, meaning they represent a unit of meaning rather than a sound or a sequence of sounds. The Quen might be able to figure out what some Chinese characters represent by comparing a single piece of text that's written both in Chinese and English, but they would not be able to figure out what the Chinese characters sound like.

Ah, but you might be wondering if the Quen could have figured out how to speak Mandarin/Cantonese by listening to audiorecordings or holovids in Mandarin/Cantonese and mapping them to transcripts written in Chinese, then comparing those Chinese transcripts to English transcripts of the same text? (Wait, YOU'RE NOT WONDERING THAT? SERIOUSLY?? I'm teasing. I'm clearly overthinking this.) I mean, yes, they could, but that would require you to have a piece of text in both English and Chinese that also has a corresponding holovid/audiorecording in Mandarin/Cantonese for that text, which... I mean, maybe I'm wrong, but that seems like a pretty big ask. Then again, if the Focuses have like a library of C-dramas with subtitles, then that could work???

But this brings me back to Alva's datapoint again. If all of the Diviners learned Mandarin/Cantonese for their exams, either Alva is being secretive about this in her own notes (seems implausible to me, she is not a disingenuous person), OR there is a faction of Quen Diviners above Alva's proverbial "pay grade" who are working on that. So that could be an interesting avenue for someone to explore in fic! Actually, the more I think about it, the more plausible it seems that there is some "upper class" of Diviners who are secretly working on restoring old languages and who get extra perks from the Imperial family for interpreting the most valuable texts. Okay, you got me, you talked me into it LOL.

But let's return now to my original cheeky remark re: the Quen glyphs as pictured in the game. This is a more detailed image of some Quen glyphs in Burning Shores:

Now, we can't say whether this piece of text is meant to be read top to bottom or whether it was pinned to the post sideways, but it looks to me from the brackets and the red lines (likely underlines) that it's posted sideways and is meant to be read either right-to-left or left-to-right. This does not look like Chinese characters, either simplified or traditional. On a superficial inspection, it looks to me more like the Tibetan syllabary, or maybe the Hebrew abjad, without actually being either of those. In the image I referred to at the beginning of this post, the glyphs look more like the Arabic abjad as it would be used to transcribe Farsi. In other words, the Quen glyphs as pictured in the DLC alone are inconsistent.

To be perfectly honest, I think that these Quen glyphs are a "game-ism": one of those things that's a visual element in the game that actually doesn't match up with the lore, similar to how Grudda is canonically from the Desert Clan but has Lowland tattoos. (If you've never noticed this, I implore you to use tearblast arrows to blow off all his armour until he's naked down to his underoos the next time you play LOL. Drakka would greatly approve.)

In short, I still adhere to the idea that the general Quen population read and write in English using the Roman alphabet, and that the Quen glyphs pictured in these images are visual nonsense (NO OFFENSE). If there are any Quen who speak and read in other languages, it would most likely be a secret faction of Diviners that Alva doesn't know about.

I hope this answer was satisfying and not fucking boring as hell BAHAHAH. Thank you for making me think about this, though! It also reminds of a mini-rant I have about Hekarro wanting the Tenakth to learn Carja glyphs that I should find some time to write out!

If anyone has further thoughts about this, feel free to comment/reblob/send me an ask or a message or whatever! ❤ Also, forgive any typos, it's past 1AM when I'm writing this LMAO.

-- much love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika xoxo