#that means writing is going to be a backburner item which

[darehearts]

good morning  !  it's officially my birthday month  😳💛

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 11: WIP List Thoughts

This day did not go according to plan, by which I mean I didn’t write and I’m feeling pretty depressed. I’m actually worried I’m entering like a Depressive Phase and that’s kind of scary especially with winter and the holidays coming up but I’m just not going to worry about that right now. I need to do a lot of laundry tomorrow and so I’m not sure I’ll be able to write on top of that, although I do want to, and technically it should be possible. Mostly right now I want to go to sleep. And should!

I did go out today, took a little walk, and then did some notebook planning. I was working on an old Bellarke Fluff idea from the WIP list and, after some wheel spinning, started to feel like I was getting somewhere with it.

I’m wondering if I should, like, reevaluate the whole WIP list. This is just an idle thought that probably won’t go anywhere, or won’t go anywhere for a while, since I have a lot of other organizational tasks that I’m behind on and that need to come first, but something for the backburner perhaps. It’s sort of a weird document (actually it’s a chart but document in the broad sense). I call it the WIP List but it’s really more of a WIP and Ideas List, or a Project list. The line between “WIP” and “idea” is pretty hazy for a lot of my stuff. I guess a WIP might reasonably be defined as something that has words, a piece of writing that exists in partial-draft form. But I have fics that are partially drafted but I intend to scrap all of that draft, fics that are partially drafted but haven’t been touched in years, and others that have no draft text but tens of pages of brainstorm notes and outlines, which I’m still actively working on in a very present-tense way, and it feels weird to somehow elevate those in the first categories to ‘WIP’ while calling those in the latter category just ‘ideas.’ So the dividing isn’t clear and even if you force it… it’s not helpful.

When I started the WIP list, I didn’t really care about the accuracy of the title, I just wanted to be comprehensive. I wanted it to be every project I was working on or might work on or cared about or might care about. So even though it’s split into subsections, it’s also very long, and purposefully long. It eases a sort of anxiety to feel like everything is in one spot. But then it creates another sort of anxiety, or more properly a distortion, because projects that are in very different states are all sort of treated as equals: this random 1200 words that I wrote in 2017 and haven’t touched since next to this fully planned out multi-chapter I’m actively working on next to this scrap of idea I had once but never developed in any way next to this mess of brainstorm ideas that may or may not resolve into a narrative.

And, like, here’s the thing. Here’s what I’m really getting at. This isn’t a to-do list and never was. It’s an at-a-glance list. And I do kind of like the messiness of just every possible idea in one spot; it gives me a security to feel like, long as it is, it is everything, it is the totality of all ideas in any way currently on the table. It does have subsections, as stated, which helps. But, at one point I was putting literally every idea that flitted through my brain on there. There are items that are literally 3 or 4 words long and that is it, that’s the whole idea. And at a later point, I started one separate item that was for scraps. The idea for this item was that some ideas are not story ideas per se, they are sub-parts of an idea, and I don’t yet know where they go. Like, this is a cool image, this is a cool line, this is a cool theme… not stuff I want to build a whole new story around but stuff I want to remember in case I come up with an idea where one of these scraps might fit. But then when my WIP List hit 50 items, was actually over 50 for a bit, I started feeling anxiety about it. I wanted it under 50 so bad and now that it’s 50 I’ve decided I hate the idea of going over. So I started adding new ideas to this ‘scraps’ list rather than making new items for them. I was not consciously trying to cheat but basically that’s what it is. It was like I was creating a 'waiting room' of sorts because I'd capped the list at 50 for fully arbitrary reasons. There are ideas now in the scraps item that could easily be on the main list, or vice versa, and it’s this state of affairs I’m thinking of when I say ‘maybe I should re-evaluate it.’

If I were being really honest with myself, there are probably also ideas that can just go, that I should be able to admit outright are never going to be written because I’ve proven them unfeasible or no longer care for them. I’m so stubborn, and I also, like I said, feel less anxious when I perceive the list as comprehensive, which makes it harder to take stuff off because ‘what if?’ ‘just in case’ etc. But I spent a lot of this summer planning out a story that I ultimately never wrote because I decided I didn’t like it and what was that process but proving to myself it’s not a feasible idea? So. I don’t know. I just feel overall like this list was created in a different era in a way and that maybe I shouldn’t be wedded to it in its current form.

Or I should write stuff on it and then cross it off in a satisfying, accomplished way. Then the list would be shorter. LOL.

[linastudyblrsblog]

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

 Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress. 

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3.  Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4.  Treat the disease, not the symptoms. 

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5.  Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6.  Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7.  Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8.  Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9.  Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead: 

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

  11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

[projectrevivalserver]

Project Revival Revival Project Devblog #1

Hey guys, blog post number 1 here. This is my first blog post, so let’s just get right into it. As you can guess, these entries are semi-formal.

So, what’s been going on with the server since we released the conscript guide? Well, less than I had hoped. Let’s take a look. We did an event, we made CWU guide progress, we added fully implemented UU Brand items, and we argued about which apples are the best. Let’s start with the CWU guide. I’ve been the only person writing it, not that I’m complaining. I’ve put down an outline covering the different branches of the CWU (think CMU, Commerce, Infestation Control, etc.), the management structure of the CWU, descriptions of each branch and how they work, and a section on rules and things about the CWU as well as the glossary. At the time of writing this, I’ve finished the basic branch overview sections, the descriptions of the different CWU ranks, Director, Manager, Supervisor, all that. I finished the sections on the Commerce Branch and the Decontamination Corps. Those are finalized, save one little exception, I need to add more examples of what a high work job would be for decontamination corps workers. Work for it has stagnated recently, just because while I can do technical writing, that doesn’t mean I love doing it. Unfortunately, my inability to focus and my skill at procrastinating has been a bit of a barrier. Still, I’m hoping I can get it done quickly. I’ve got 6 more guides to write and time isn’t moving any slower. Just to let you all know, the guides are, in this order, the OTA guide, the vortigaunt guide, the CAC guide, the OSA guide, and then the city bureaucracy guide. As I said before, I implemented UU brand items. Some of them weren’t working as consumable food for hunger anymore, but now they all do. We also added a few new items that hadn’t existed before such as popcorn, peanuts, bananas, pickles, and a handful of others. In the process of doing this, I argued with LightROOM about which types of apples are the best. The correct answer is Honeycrisp.

So, what’s coming up? Things that may be on the backburner, or are planned next, that type of thing. Well, the very next plan after the CWU guide, if not during, is to make all of the weapons we’ll use in RP into Helix items. This really only goes for one SWEP, but I still need to double check and make sure I’m not missing something. After that, as you can imagine, we’ve got guides to write. The OTA guide is up next, and shouldn’t be too difficult to write. Half of the content, if not more, should overlap with the CCA guide. The biggest challenge is making a good rank system that isn’t super confusing. Even then, it shouldn’t be too difficult. Also, keep in mind, snipers will not be called RANGER. That’s a common practice that I don’t really care about, but I heard the name SCALPEL somewhere else so I’m completely in love with it. Anyways, other than guides, what’s coming up next? I’ve got several items and weapons to make or find. Flashbangs, smoke grenades, tear gas, riot shields, deployable manhacks, and armor repair kits. As a staff team, we have to write a detailed rules and policies document for the server. I’m not trying to rewrite the Constitution, I just want to make our rules and how things are punished more clear and universal. Same goes for our handling of permakills, NLR, lines at which unionwashing can be broken, what items go out for what loot rolls, and various other important things staff need to know. Something else I’m very excited about, don’t expect this to come out super soon, but I have to do an OSA overhaul which I’m very excited for. I get to add hunters that don’t function exclusively with a pill, I’m transferring over stalkers to be combat units like in the beta, I have to write a SWEP for the Combine Super Soldier, a SWEP for the elite synth soldiers, all this fun stuff that I’m very excited to do. We’ll get there, don’t worry. Next up, what are some less defined, more hopeful future things to look forward to? I’ve been thinking about adding a staff schedule for over the summer. That way, we can be guaranteed to have staff on the server at all possible active hours, and the server won’t be dead 95% of the time like it has been for the last while. That’s not confirmed, but it’s very likely I’ll do something along those lines. I’d like to get some more events in. Given that it’s July, a lot of people are on summer break, so hopefully I can do some mid-day events. The next campaign is also somewhere in the future. I’ve been teasing it for the last couple events, but I want to plan it and get official campaign events going. I’ve also got ideas for special events to happen during the summer. I can’t be too specific because I don’t want to build hype for something not even confirmed yet, but I can say that I’m hopeful they do get to happen and I’m excited to make them full priority after I can get the Project Revival Revival Project done. Other things I’d just in general like to do, a more expanded crafting system, possibly something to simulate survivalism, industry and work cycle expansion, replacement of CID cards with identibands, a health charger revamp, scanner to combot transition, and a few other things. I could talk for hours about all the things I eventually want to do. That blog post would be a few pages long at the very least.

So, all that said, how am I feeling about the server? Over the past week, a bit worried, hopeful, and not too much of anything else. I’ve been busy assembling my cosplays for a convention coming up next weekend, so the server has unfortunately been on the backburner this week. I’m a bit disappointed that the player count tanked again, but I shouldn’t get too down about it, because it’s absolutely my fault. I’m trying to justify with myself that it’s okay because the rerelease will make everything better, but I can’t be sure of that. So I’m worried that I’m just contributing to the slow and painful re-death of the server. I get bursts of inspiration a lot, but the work ahead of me is discouraging. Writing the guides is a big slog for me. Hopefully I can get through it soon. I really want to keep this all going.

That’s about it for this first blog entry. It was a bit lengthy, but I want to be transparent with you guys. I want you all to know we haven’t forgotten about you all, and writing these posts holds us accountable for the goals we set and the work we do. To those of you who are patiently waiting, I see you and I appreciate you. You guys are great and the time you spend on the server warms my heart.

Gabe

[jadekitty777]

Ain't Your Ordinary Tinkerbell

Seems like I’m not getting out of these FG shipweeks with every one being a fully completed work (*eyes the unfinished soulmate one from March*). 

This one is a story that’s been on the backburner for awhile, but I do intend to finish it. I got inspired to do this one from Shana340′s Dark Fairy AU... the minute the first picture was posted I fell in love and wanted to write something but couldn’t think of anything concrete. Leading to the piece that really got my storyline cogs going this one, which was the collab done between her, Chi and Kyra. So I hope you’ll all like this... admittedly short beginning!

Day 3: Fantasy AU

Dedicated to: @shana340artblog with side credit given to @chiherah and @narwhalish

Rating: K

Words: 3.5k

Summary: All fairies, except one, are welcome to Feywood.

This is the story of Qrow, the only fairy to be unwelcome, and his desperate journey to find a place he belongs. [Dark Fairy AU]

Ao3 Link: Chapter 1:First and Second

~

His life was over.

“Qrow Branwen! By order of the Queen you are to return to – ack!” Whatever else Tukson was about to command was mercilessly cut off by one of Tai’s ruthless punches to the gut.

Tai left the woodland fairy on his knees before hopping back to stand on the railing of his treehouse’s porch. “There’s more where that came from, so all of you back off!”

“Tai-!” Qrow tried to go back for him, but Summer’s grip on his arm was stronger than spider thread.

“He’ll be fine, come on!” She shouted as she pulled him inside.

Qrow’s last glimpse of his best friend was the proud, protective way he fanned out his feathery, yellow wings as he faced the oncoming Queen’s guard, before Summer shut the door and she started to throw up magical wards.

They wouldn’t kill him – he knew that with as much certainty as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. No one was foolish enough to eradicate a phoenix fire fairy. The nightmarish stories of their vengeful rebirth were things of legend; tales of burnt down forests and wiped out colonies. Still, Queen Salem would punish him severely for his defiance. His friend was making a great sacrifice for him – and Qrow would never be able to pay it back.

His eyes fell to Summer, still working her magic, her silver butterfly wings emitting a soft light every time a spell was cast. She, likewise, would be receiving retribution for her actions today.

Guilt weighed his wings down, until they nearly brushed the floor. “Summer, I��”

“Don’t just stand there!” She cut him off with a snap. “Dust is in the second drawer to the right. Hurry!”

He bit down the protest that wanted to ring out, turning on his heels and running to the hutch. He ignored the knickknacks of lost things the three (four) of them had collected over the years, for the memories they would have brought forth would stall him yet again when there was no time left for him to delay. He yanked open the requested drawer and pulled out the satchel, the edges of it glowing sunflower gold, nearly spilling out as he carried it across the room.

Summer met him in the middle, taking the bag and undoing the clips. “There’s just enough for me to get you to the human world. You’ll be out of reach there. You’ll, be safe there.”

He could tell she was trying to be strong, but the shake told him she was barely holding back tears. It left his own eyes stinging. “I’m sorry. If only I hadn’t been born with these accursed wings.”

“No.” Summer seemed to pause for the first time since they’d fled from the Queen’s castle. Her gaze on him was open and earnest as it always was. “Qrow, what all she was saying – that you’re a harbinger. That you caused the drought. I don’t believe a word of it.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” He told her, unconsciously folding his wings over his arms. As if the dark things actually had the power to protect anything.

She shook her head adamantly. “I’m sure of you. Your magic is beautiful but misunderstood.”

A thud against the wall made them both jump. Time was running out.

Summer upended the satchel over him, the fairy dust spilling over his head and clinging to his clothes and feathers. Despite its warmth, Qrow felt none of the normal elation and joy that came with being touched by the dust’s power. Instead, he was left shivering and empty as he realized this would be the very last time.

“I,” The dam he’d held finally broke, spilling down his cheeks. “I love you both, so much.”

She clutched the back of his head, bringing him close and touching their foreheads together. The diadems they both wore clinked together, the mystical jewel in the middle of hers tapping the hollow hole where his had once been before it was stolen away. For a second, he felt touched by her magic.

“No matter where you are, we will always be your family.” She swore to him.

“I know.” He would never forget.

She pulled away, taking two steps back and cast her final spell.

It layered over him like ivy vines, immobilizing him so effectively, there was nothing to he could do – not even shout – as he saw the wards shatter along the door and get thrown open, the Queen’s guards rushing in.

He was plummeting before they could even hope to reach him.

Everything fell away. The floor underneath his feet, the walls of the house around him, even Summer herself warped out of existence as he was thrown through the magical plane. Nothing was left but a kaleidoscope of color and noise, so chaotic it was impossible to grasp at anything defined. And then he was out the other side, the chill on his skin immediate as a constellation of stars surrounded him.

Though not a novice by any means, it took him longer than usual to recover from the jump, so that he was already falling through the clouds before he finally willed his wings to open. A few steady flaps were all it took to right himself and control his flight and soon he was wheeling round and round, descending through the darkness of night to the human world below.

All the times before when he’d visited, he approached with wonder and curiosity. Humanity had many creations, from their giant fireflies on poles to their noisemakers on wheels. Each item was fantastic to consider their use – or if they had one at all. The species was frivolous like that, creating things of beauty simply for the art of it.

But now he could hardly focus on the landscape below him, taking in only the most minute of details like the shimmer that implied a lake a winged creature such as him should best avoid and the many small abodes that ringed around it. He was drawn to the one that still had its fireflies lit, too distressed to think of much else beyond a place to hide.

He landed on the rooftop, entire body dragging as he lumbered about for something raised high enough to slip in-between. But it was made of a material he was not used to, flat and gravely. When he tried to pull at one, he found they were held in place by silver tacks. Without magic, he’d never be able to pull them up. No magic, no home, no family. Everything was gone.

Qrow gave a noise that sounded too close to despair, sitting down on the edge of the roof and burying his head in his hands.

How had things gone so wrong? He’d awoken this morning with expectations to get to work. Harvest was soon and the plants needed careful tending by all hands this time of year. Yet, instead, he found himself belayed on his flight, called away by an urgent message by their queen. What would have happened to him had Tai not spotted him being detoured and grew suspicious? What would he have done, had he been alone in that throne room when Salem decreed his disownment to her court before she plucked the ruby gem from his diadem and stole his magic away? He would have been helpless and dead, if not for Tai and Summer rushing in at that moment to intervene. And now here he was, lost and alone.

Perhaps a fate worse than death after all.

A few seasons ago, Raven had warned him before she had left that this was what all those stray, accusatory looks from their fellow clanmates would build to. He’d brushed off her concerns, claimed them as nothing but excuses for her true desire to run away from a place she never felt she belonged to – what an incredible fool he was! If his sister could see him now, she’d mock and jeer at him and it would only be what he deserved and more.

If only he had believed her. Had gone with her. At least then they’d be together. Did he even have any hope of finding her, on this vast and massive world?

A screeching noise jerked him to attention immediately, unconsciously flattening close to the roof as wariness overtook distress. There were many ways he imagined he could go out from this world; to be a meal for an owl was not one he particularly liked to entertain. He could feel sorry for himself once he was properly hidden.

He searched the sky and trees with an attentive eye, trying to spot something staring back – and that was how he noticed it. A little, green home hung from the branch of a tree, not unlike the ones back home.

Why would a human have a fairy house?

Another screech in the wind reminded him he did not have time for such trivial thoughts, so he swooped down quickly, landing on the little platform leading to a decently sized hole. He took note of its shape, finding it wasn’t perfectly round, and shavings of wood jutted at strange angles, as if it had only just recently been carved.

As he climbed inside, he found there was nothing inside but a nest of moss, sticks, and leaves with one portion particularly more rotund than everything else. It was there he rested, finding the bed suitable for now as he drew his wings about himself and resigned himself to his new home.

~~~~~

On the third day, at dawn, whistling awoke him just like it had the days before.

Qrow sat up from his nest, stretching his arms above his head and flapping out his wings, stirring the loose bits all about. He leaned out of the hole of his shelter, watching the single human who lived in the house pass by underneath him. He was going fishing yet again if the pole resting on his shoulder was any indication. It seemed to be a daily chore – or maybe a pleasure. He would not be back until the sun had evaporated the morning dew from the grass.

It was a consistent, reliable routine and one Qrow would use to his advantage.

Once the man had disappeared on his boat, Qrow got to work. By the handful, he begun to shove out the pointy sticks, pieces of smelly moss and crinkly leaves out the hole, letting it litter the floor far below. Once complete, he plucked one of his own feathers, sweeping up the dirt and pebbles that had been lying underneath it all, tossing it out by the handful until his temporary home was decently clean.

Job complete, he moved onto his second mission, climbing out through the hole and swooping down towards the man’s larger version. He needed at least a few things – something to gather water, something sharp to cut plants, and some soft, proper bedding. He may not have plans to stay forever, but he certainly did not need to live uncomfortably in the meanwhile.

He fell down to the door, landing on the knob, considering how he might open it. Had he had his magic, he could have willed it to turn itself or transform to his full size to just grasp it in his own hand. Neither were on option, so he’d have to be creative.

He tried instead to hop up and then back down, putting force into his legs. Rather than causing the knob to budge, his shoes merely slipped on the smooth surface, and he gave a cry as he fell right off. A few frantic flaps kept him from hitting the ground and back to the knob he went, considering again. He eyed the space between the door and the frame, before wedging himself there and trying to push his feet against the knob, leveraging all his weight in hopes it would turn.

Yet, it barely budged.

Qrow grunted, frustration welling within him at his limitations, before giving up the venture. Instead, he circled the home in hopes of finding an easier way in. His hope came in the form of a window, open just a crack. He gripped the side of the open pane, planting a foot against the jamb and the other on the sill, and started to pull. It slid by the millimeter, painfully slow, his body straining with the effort.

And then, quite suddenly, it slid open several all at once. He lost his balance and fell again, only to wearily make his way back up, pleased to find the opening had widened considerably. He sidled in sideways and hopped down to a large wooden surface just underneath, plopping down for a sit and taking stock of his new surroundings.

At this size, it was easy to say everything looked quite grand, but experience told him this human lived quite modestly. From the writing utensils nearby, Qrow knew he sat upon a desk. Directly across the room, was the kitchen with its many metallic oddities to craft meals. Two doors, both open, were to his right one yielding a bedroom, the other a washroom. To his left, a small sitting area with a comfortable looking chair and a low table with an unfinished ship-in-a-bottle placed upon it. Adjacent that, angled against a wall, was also a tall bookcase, full to the brim with texts that all looked well-read. There were other decorations upon the walls – pictures and paintings that were all pretty green landscapes, wild oceans and colorful sunrises.

Had he been able to grow, he could have explored the home more fully. All the drawers and cabinets were certainly well stocked with things he could certainly make use of. With the knowledge his excursion would certainly be more restricted, he stood with a sigh and flew to the thing that had most intrigued him.

He landed upon the table, eyeing over the strewn parts of the unfinished ship that gave off a glint or shine, knowing they had the highest chance of being sharp. A laugh almost left him when he noticed the embellishments that were meant to gussy up the whole thing and found a small, fairy-sized cutlass among them. Retrieving it, he found its weight to be acceptable and its sharpness to be true. He flew it back to the desk before beginning his search anew.

His water container was much less glamorous – nothing more than a bottle cap that smelt of sweetness retrieved from the kitchen counter. Still he added it to his small pile before heading to the washroom for what he knew would make a perfect bedding.

The rectangular box he was looking for was set on the corner of the sink, little white tissue sticking out from the top. He pulled out a few, folding the large sheets over and over until they were easily transportable squares. Once done, he carried them to the rest of his collection of stolen things. He placed the sword in the notch of his belt before hefting the cap and tissues under either arm and squeezed back out the window.

Qrow was back home and already laying in the softness of his new bed well before the whistling of the man returned.

AS he ponded over his unknown future, he fell into a restless, exhausted sleep.

~

Qrow was awoken instantly by a violent rocking that tumbled him from his bed.

His back impacted a wall, disorienting him as his vision swiveled, and he turned his head about to figure what was going on. A scratching noise had him looking to his entrance, only for his heart to leap into his throat as he was faced down by a pair of black, beady eyes.

The bird knocked its beak against the edge of the hole once again, the noise rattling the walls of the home and shaking him to his bones. In the streams of light that filtered in every time it pulled its head back, he caught the red crest along its crown. Between that and the chips of wood beginning to litter his newly cleaned floor, the species name came to him.

Woodpecker.

Suddenly, the misshapen hole and the empty nest had connotations he dared not give full thought to.

Breath coming in rapid pants, he flattened himself into the furthest corner he could while scrambling blindly for his sword. His terror only heightened as the woodpecker squeezed its way inside and in the light that followed, he spotted the glint on the other side of the room. Well out of reach of saving him.

With alarming speed, the bird thrust its beak at him. Qrow ducked low, narrowly avoiding the attack and dove to the opposite wall, scrabbling along it to try and reach the exit. His fingers curled around the edge of the jagged hole, freedom moments away.

It was ripped from him as that beak latched around the top of his left wing as the woodpecker yanked him back. He shouted, agony lacing like lightning through him, and he desperately twisted and struck out with a fist, delivering a swift sucker punch right between those hungry eyes. It released him with a squawk of surprise and maybe pain, jerking back.

Qrow wasted no time, clambering out the exit and taking to the wind.

The problem was immediately realized as his injured wing buckled and his other flapped wildly to compensate, sending him into an uncontrolled downward spiral. Everything meshed together into a confusing motley, and he braced himself for the inevitable impact.

He didn’t hit the dirt – didn’t even come close to it – because the house got in the way of his chaotic flight. He caught only the briefest glimpse of his own, panicked face, before glass was shattering around him in a great, explosive sound. His shoulder took the brunt of the next impact and he went rolling along a hard surface, stopping just short of falling off the edge.

In the moments that followed, all Qrow knew was anguish. It quaked along his entire body, every nerve on fire. But the pain was most splitting on his lame wing, lances of it shrieking through the delicate, hollow bones and zipping with unforgiving ferocity along his spine. He knew without having to test it that it was broken.

Gingerly as he could, he sat up, a hiss escaping him as his shoulder also protested movement. His hand fell to it, grounding himself with a few deep, slow breathes.

“Great stars.”

The sudden voice had him jerking around and for the second time within ten minutes, he was confronted by a face larger than his own. It was the fisherman. Deep set green eyes stared back at him, mouth slightly agape with shock.

Qrow’s chest froze with fear and he leapt to his feet only to immediately stumble back to his knees when the pain became too great to handle.

“Hey…” The human’s tone lilted with concern. “Are you alright?”

A hand as large as his torso reached for him. He flinched back, instinctively trying to curl his wings around him, only to cringe as his broken one protested violently.

The man drew back immediately, eyeing him in quiet worry. When he spoke again, it was even softer than before, “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to check on that wing of yours.” He rested his palm out, open and inviting, before him. “Please don’t be scared.”

Tiny as he was, Qrow offered his fiercest glare in return.

“Alright.” The man seemed to get comfortable, hand never moving from its spot. “I’ll wait.”

Incredulity filled him. He seemed certain Qrow would bend to his will. Was this man overconfident or simply foolish?

Knowing humans, it could easily be either one.

Then, even more unbelievably, the man smiled. “I’m Clover by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.” Qrow snapped. A useless endeavor, as he knew humans could not understand him in this form.

Clover arched a brow in return, replying anyways, “I’ll take that as a ‘nice to meet you’.”

He rolled his eyes, pointedly avoiding his gaze, and instead considered his options. He was on an empty shelf that was next to the kitchen, with nothing close by to climb down to. Not that it mattered. With the window broken, he wouldn’t have too much trouble leaping out of it.

But then what? Even if he survived the drop without further injury, he was grounded until his wing healed, at the mercy of every predator sharp enough to snatch up an easy meal. And even if he did escape and managed to survive the grueling two months of mending such a break would take, without a proper healer to bind it, his wing wouldn’t set correctly.

He’d… never fly again.

Was that a price he wished to pay for stubbornness? His friends didn’t risk everything for him not to do the same.

He looked over to Clover, read his earnest and hopeful expression.

Defeatedly, he rose to his feet, took three steps to what might possibly be his greatest mistake yet, and plopped back down onto his palm.

Clover gave him another beaming grin, rising with all the care of a man who knew he held a very delicate gift. “Don’t you worry, fairytale. I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Already familiar enough with his surroundings, he didn’t bother to look around, merely accepting what was certain to be his next new home.

Well, third time’s the charm, right?

[words-writ-in-starlight]

I never stop being suprised at how well adjusted Jin Ling is, given his situation- being orphan and heir to one, potentially two great sects aside, he is incredibly normal given ones who raised him were Jiang '' I express concern by threatening to break your legs and its step up from how I was raised'' and Jin '' I will put up with all of your tantrums because i have 12342 different ways to orchestrate your death on backburner'' Guangyao. Like, how is this kid relatively normal given his 1/2

parental figures were walking mess of decades long traumas who trained him to be as deadly at night hunting as possible and schemer who sweetly smiled while being insulted for everything aand planning numerous atrocities who kept spoiling him with 400 nets and best pet in world? I blame it on Qin Su,.( 2/2)

HERE’S MY THING, Jin Ling is a wreck as a person.  I can think of several “well-adjusted” kids, some of them more shocking than others, but quite frankly Jin Ling is five traumas in a Jin crest, with a sword for a comfort item and a brand new expectation that he get his act together to run a sect.  I love him so much, but the vast majority of his influences have taught him to interact with the world on two axes labeled “Anger” and “Orders,” both of which are normally directed at him.  His only two responses to a crisis are to lash out at the person in charge or to break down into these agonized tears that he feels horrendously ashamed of.  Both of those reactionary schema can be traced pretty directly to the way Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng have raised this kid.

Anger: this is Jiang Cheng’s Brand.  It just is.  In fact, I’d put money that Jiang Cheng had a lot of the raising of Jin Ling, because they both handle emotion in exactly the same way--they don’t.  When Jin Ling doesn’t know what’s going on, or feels out of control, or isn’t entirely sure how to process his emotions, he picks a target and gets mean fast, because his uncle is an adult that he trusts to have his act together and that’s how his uncle behaves.  Unfortunately for both of them, it’s actually not that productive to just.  Yell at people and lash out.  It leads to things like brothers who don’t tell you about golden core transfers and potentially powerful allies who don’t trust you.

@ Jiang Cheng, bud, I understand that you have capital-T Trauma and that you’ve withstood years of people applauding you for the murder of the brother who you loved and felt massively betrayed by and kind of didn’t mean to kill but also kind of intended to kill but also kind of chickened out on killing and blamed for everything bad in your life, because that’s what your parents taught you to do.  I understand that.  Please give your nephew one (1) hug.  He would do anything for a hug from you.  I hope the whole Nie Mingjue debacle was informative to you both on this front.

Incidentally!  Jin Ling is especially unstable and prone to rash anger when this phenomenon intersects with feeling that he’s being manipulated or talked down to.  Hm.  Wonder where that could have come from.  Which brings me to...

Tears: Jin Guangyao hasn’t killed Jin Ling yet by the time of the main plot, which means two things.  First, he is sincerely emotionally attached to the kid.  On the upside, Jin Ling got a dog out of the deal.  On the downside, Jin Ling has probably been on the receiving end of a lot of Jin Guangyao’s “protective” instincts, which I think Qin Su can confirm are not necessarily the most fun instincts in the world.  They’re heavily predicated on Jin Guangyao being in control of things, which means that he relies incredibly heavily on emotional manipulation and enforcing the hierarchy he’s working within.  Examples include: Nie Mingjue, Qin Su, Jin Zixun.  Because Jin Guangyao is sect leader for most of Jin Ling’s life, that means that no matter how hard he pushes, his uncle will always have the strength of the hierarchy to back up his manipulation, which means that all the anger in the world is useless, which means that Jin Ling grew up desperately lacking in control.  And Jin Guangyao is doing it for his own good, so Jin Ling can’t be angry, of course, how could he be angry with his uncle for protecting him?  

Second, Jin Guangyao was...never planning to let Jin Ling inherit properly, right?  We’re all on the same page here?  He was anticipating, A, becoming immortal (the whole goal of cultivation) or, B, stepping down gracefully and puppeteering Jin Ling from behind the scenes, or very possibly C, both.  That means that Jin Ling needs to be manipulable, which--listen, you can say a lot of things about Jiang Cheng, but manipulable isn’t really one of them.  That suggests to me that Jin Guangyao probably went with a very basic method of trying to make Jin Ling into the heir he needed: guilt trip, reserve compliments unless certain conditions are met, make gifts and compliments backhanded when possible, reward “weak” behavior while also reprimanding it.  Basically?  If Jin Ling was being reprimanded by Jin Guangyao and started crying, he probably got called out for being weak but the reprimand stopped and any punishment was less intense than it might have been otherwise.  Hey presto, you have a kid who can’t really handle confrontation but doesn’t know how else to deal with a problem, and who understands that crying will get him out of trouble but also associates it with a complete lack of control over the situation.

Not really ideal for a sect leader, right?

Now, this is where it took kind of a turn for Jin Guangyao, because that plan would have been immaculate if not for the fact that Jiang Cheng is as direct a dealer as anyone in the cultivation world.  Yes, he’s angry all the time, can’t handle his own emotions (except by rage and tears! JGY and Madam Yu should get tea and chat about parenting), and hasn’t decided if he’s guilt-stricken or gleeful over the death of his brother.  But.  Jin Ling knows exactly what to expect from him at all times.  Pretty much the only time we see him actually confused is when Jiang Cheng says that, if Jin Ling doesn’t catch something on their night hunt, he can’t come back--and Jiang Cheng is outraged that Jin Ling took him seriously.  (I also kind of think Jin Ling is being a shit about that on purpose.  But that’s me.)

The rest of the time?  Jin Ling is offended that people take Jiang Cheng’s threats toward him seriously.  He’s pretty much completely prepared to throw himself on Jiang Cheng’s mercy when he needs help.  He postures and poses to mimic him, and breaks Wei Wuxian out against Jiang Cheng’s direct orders without fear of reprisal.  That’s not a kid who’s afraid of his uncle, except, of course, that he wants Jiang Cheng to be proud of him, and he knows that crying is a disappointment.

I’m not saying Jiang Cheng is uncle of the year, see above re: PLEASE hug your nephew, but the mere fact that he can be relied upon to react predictably, in Jin Ling’s experience, does a lot to counteract Jin Guangyao’s attempts to control him.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but Jiang Cheng is the product of a toxic childhood doing his best with the tools he has, and Jin Guangyao is the product of a toxic childhood experimenting with a fun kicky new kind of toxicity in the next generation.

And honestly?  I think that Jiang Cheng having gotten some of the weight off his chest about everything, Jin Guangyao’s manipulations being exposed, and having actual friends will do a lot to help Jin Ling get his feet under him.  Not to mention his brand new uncle who is even more forthright than Jiang Cheng and is more than prepared to tell Jin Ling outright when he’s being a spoiled brat without concern for rank, plus also being willing to Give That Boy A Hug And A Sincere Compliment.

I’m not saying that the Jin Ling fic I’m planning to write is going to heavily feature Wei Wuxian going “okay!!!!  You need to learn that positive reinforcement doesn’t always come laced with poison!!!!!”  But I’m not not saying that.

[abeautifulblog]

12 and 6 for the writing asks?

Yassssss~

12) My favorite place to write is our courtyard patio:

We live in the literal desert, so it gets too hot to be out there during the afternoon, but it’s lovely in the mornings and the evenings, and I’ve got my chair set up with a little rolling desk I built for my laptop. It’s also enclosed, so it’s safe for my blind & stupid cat  to come enjoy the outdoors with me. (No really, I love her but she’s an idiot and also completely blind.)

(And yes, I gave Gene my own hobby when I wrote him as a gardener.)

*

6) Hardest story to write: haaah, I think you guys can probably guess the answer to this, based on which installments took the longest to get out – “Bodies in the Lake” and “Love Like Light.” And the common denominator there was making those nerds bone.

So yeah, now that I can finally talk about what was going on behind the scenes – why did those take so long?

Part of it was just that as the fic came to an end, there were fewer things left to write, so if I got stuck on one thing, there was really nothing else for me to work on in the mean time. “The Old College Try,” for instance, had been in the works since “This House,” but when I was blocked on it, I could put it on the backburner and write six billion remixes of the bake sale instead.

So after the Thanksgiving chapter, when they finally clear the air about Robert’s mental illness, the next item to check off the list was “nerds get sum fuk” – and I really thought they were ready to get down to it. I was planning a comedy romp at a bigfoot-themed ski lodge that would end with them hopping in the sack. I thought their issues were resolved already.

And then it just.

Wasn’t.

Happening.

Was the setting wrong? I’d chosen to put them on holiday as way to shake up the scenery, get them out of their usual (sexless) routine and perhaps embolden them to try something new. Should I have left them at Gene’s house, where Robert feels safe and comfortable? But then what’s the catalyst that makes them do it NOW, when they haven’t done it BEFORE? What makes Robert decide that now is the “right time”? How do I signal to the readers that it’s okay for them to have sex now, when earlier (like in “Ghosts in the Attic”) it would have been disastrous?

But yeah, I had been trying to make them fuck since chapter 18. It’s why that chapter is shot through with sex, why Robert has a boner for basically the entire first half – and not in the freaky-dissonant way that he did in “Ghosts in the Attic,” but as a natural, healthy reaction to his beloved boyfriend rubbing up on him in slinky yoga pants. It was to telegraph that sex is on the agenda, so that it wouldn’t be coming out of left field when they consummated at the end of the chapter.

It’s why the working title for “Bodies in the Lake” was sex_happens.doc – until it became clear that sex wasn’t going to happen. That the issues raised in “Ghosts in the Attic” were still completely unresolved. Indeed, Gene still didn’t even know those issues existed.

Gene is very good at handling Robert’s crises when it’s something he’s been through before with Alex – but when Robert steps off-script, Gene’s suddenly winging it, and it shows. Alex had a lot of sexual partners in the past too – as people who are outgoing and bisexual and dtf often do – but he never did Robert’s brand of self-destructive, self-loathing promiscuity, and so Gene has no understanding of the psychology behind that behavior, or why it’s different from Alex’s form of slutting around.

And then Mary was supposed to just smack some sense into him and shove him back into Gene’s loving arms, but holy shit, did that conversation get derailed. And as an author, when a character looks you in the eye and says, It’s time to talk about this, you let them talk.

That was when my housemate-beta, who’d been there for all my agonizing over how to make them fuck, said, “You have to break this up into two chapters. This conversation here, it’s the emotional climax.” And she was absolutely right, but that’s why the sex got delayed another year. 😫

(I had not, going into that chapter, intended for them to have that conversation. I thought I was showing their character growth in the gym scene at the beginning, which features a number of deliberate callbacks to the first chapter except for all the ways that they’re healthier now, drinking smoothies instead of mimosas and actually TALKING about feelings. I had not realized they were going to DOUBLE THE FUCK DOWN on character growth later.)

So that was “Bodies in the Lake” finally out, after only eleven months (and I do consider that chapter a conscious bookend to “Ghosts in the Attic”), but I still had yet to make them fuck.

(I feel like some exotic zookeeper – like, I have created the perfect conditions for you, have I not, so why won’t you two just fuck already??)

Because it’s not just about being horny and wanting to get their rocks off (anyone with a sex drive knows how to take care of that on their own), it’s about the profoundly intimate connection that sex can be for sexual people. (The misunderstanding around this is something I find distressing in asexual discourse, when it reduces sex to a one-dimensional, even selfish, urge. I understand that not everyone experiences sex the same way, but there’s nothing selfish about wanting to feel that kind of connection with your partner.)

Not to mention that the hard ban on sex would inhibit other forms of intimacy too – that Robert can’t do ANYTHING without part of his brain keeping track of whether it’s okay or not, worrying how far is too far, knowing that there’s a stopping point coming up. It feels analogous to how queer celebrities, before they come out, seem to have almost no public personality whatsoever – Anderson Cooper and Kristin Stewart are the ones who come to mind here – because they’re having to police themselves so stringently lest anything ‘kinda gay’ slip out, that they wind up clamping down on themselves far beyond that. (And then when they do come out and are free to be themselves, it turns out they’re smart and snarky and all-around cool people!) I feel like after the sex barrier’s been broken, Robert would become a lot more relaxed and uninhibited with non-sexual intimacy too.

I’d had the first half of that chapter written for ages – the conversation after Robert comes back to the house and he explains that period of his life to Gene – but I couldn’t seem to give them that final push. I made a lot of attempts, tweaking my approach in subtle ways, but nothing quite rang true.

It was my friend Sam (dude who wrote the Craig fic) who finally said, They need to fight.

(And also that Gene needed to get pushed off his pedestal – “Because I have BEEN that endlessly patient and supportive boyfriend, and it gets old.”)

And as soon as he said it, I realized he was right – I’d done the thing, the thing that every guide on writing sex tells you not to do, which is to neatly wrap up all the characters’ interpersonal issues and tie them off with a bow and then let them fall into bed. It’s what feels logical, but it is death to drama, because then there’s no tension, and no reason for the reader to pay attention during the sex scene that follows, because there’s nothing going to be accomplished in it.

…Buuuut, when I’d spent 100k words writing a love story about careful consent, and a protagonist who doesn’t have a good handle on his own desires, there was no way for me to let them barrel through sex on a full head of passion and talk about it afterwards. It’s why they had to stop halfway through and dial it back a bit, touch base and explicitly confirm that yes, I want to proceed, bring them back from the edge for a while so it clearly wasn’t just their downstairs brains doing the decision-making.

The result is that it’s not as sexy as I might have hoped for, and while I’m a little disappointed about that, it’s checked by the knowledge that – realistically – there’s no way it could have been. Scorching hot sex requires the participants to be uninhibited, and Robert and Gene can’t afford to throw caution to the wind when they’re venturing into a known minefield. They’ll be able to relax into it later, for sure, but for their first time, they had to be mindful and deliberate about it.

(And also hearkening back to a thought Robert had in “Ghosts in the Attic,” that he wanted to make Gene smile and laugh during sex. In essence, that his vision for them, what he wanted out of sex, was more for it to be intimate than for it to be hawt.

Ah well. Stay tuned for the hookup AU – basically, all the scorching-hot sex they weren’t having in Beautiful Day wound up in the hookup AU instead)

So yeah, getting them to bone was definitely the hardest part of this fic. There were so many factors involved thanks to Robert’s various issues, that required a lot of careful calibration – and in the end, he still had to take a leap of faith. And while it’s not my favorite part of the fic, now that it’s done I can get on with finishing the rest of it. The final chapter doesn’t have anything really fraught (that hasn’t already been written), so I’m optimistic that it’s not going to give me as much trouble as the previous two chapters.

[charlies-crashcourses]

college crash course #3: deadlines and daily tasks, aka getting shit done on time

I hate online courses. I just do. Everyone else in my life loves them and scrambles for the chance to stay home in their pjs as they do their work. My brain, however, cannot for the life of me remember to complete tasks with no outside input, and so every single class I’ve gotten a low grade on in my college career has been an online class, without fail. I need structure to thrive, as do most adhd people (especially those in college) and so

What’s the solution here? What works best?

I have a couple strategies for this that work in tandem, so here they are

Strategy 1: Daily Task Sheets

on my desk I have at least 12 different types of sticky notes for different uses. Nothing so intense as color coding or organizing that way, I mean one for little positivity reminders and a smaller one for words I like and want to include in my writing and another larger one for little sketches to do as I work, etc etc.

One of these stacks of sticky notes is large and neon and used specifically for daily task lists. I have an app for larger scale lists and things that need to be done in general, but every day before I start working I sit down at my desk, pull off one of my big sticky notes, and write down a checklist of everything I need to do today (or, on the weekends, everything that needs doing before Monday). 

I break these tasks down to chunks that are palatable for me, ie right now I have one task that reads “300-400p Existence” aka my quick notation for having to read 100 pages of a novel for class, and another separate task that says “400-500p Existence” because seeing 300-500 would make it Too Big and my brain would throw a tantrum and not do it.

I also put down tasks that will literally take me three seconds, like checking to see if I have unexpected homework for a class that rarely has actual work to do, or replying to an email from someone. Any task that needs doing goes on the list.

(I do this for a couple reasons, actually. One is because if I don’t write it down, I won’t remember it and it won’t get done, but the more important reason is that the more items I see checked off, the more I’ve gotten done and the better my brain will cooperate because see? we’re being productive! and my brain responds with that sweet sweet dopamine.)

When I’m checking stuff off (and this is the important part) I don’t just put a checkmark and move on. At a quick glance, then, it looks like nothing is done, because the boxes are all still mostly empty. I completely fill in each box, and sometimes when it’s going really slow I liberally cross off every item as I finish them so I can’t see the words anymore at all so I know I did stuff. The easier it is to see and process how much I’ve done, the better.

(it’s also important that it’s a sticky note, as well, because regular pieces of paper are Extra Things that will get lost, sticky notes can move and stay with me if i have to go somewhere else to go print something, for example. I can just peel it off my desk, stick it on my laptop, and go)

Strategy 2: Storing and Collecting Tasks

so Charlie, you might ask, how the heck do you know what needs to be done each day? How do you remember these tasks to do? Well this strategy is actually thanks to Ryan, my guy in student disability services. He showed me this app that I’m about to show y’all to make your lives a million times easier.

but first, let me explain. When making my daily task sticky notes, there’s no way I’d be able to remember everything I have to do on the top of my head, right? So really when I first sit down I open my laptop, check on my phone real quick how many emails I need to respond to (but don’t respond yet) and open up my college’s online system Canvas to make sure I don’t have any new announcements, not checking anything else yet. Then I grab my phone and open up my shiny new app: IKE

its a productivity app based on the Eisenhower model of task orientation, splitting up tasks into four categories: Important and Urgent, Important but Not Urgent, Urgent but Not Important, and Not Important or Urgent. You can rename these categories as you choose (they choose to name them, in order, Focus, Goals, Fit In, and Backburner, but I’ve changed them to Do Now, Soonish, 5 Min Tasks, and kept Backburner, but you do you)

Now you can choose to completely forego the IKE model and just use it as four different lists of things, but IKE also has a solution for that which is different lists as well as different categories within these lists. So the four categories above apply to all the different lists, which it displays in a cute four square style that tells you how many tasks are there, but doesn’t tell you what they are until you open the category, and has a quick task adding feature where you drag a circle from the center of the four corners into whichever list you’re going for and make the task right then. But for the lists they’re all separate and can all be different colors depending on what they’re for, that’s all up to you.

Now how does this seemingly complex system work for you, Charlie, who’s brain has the max processing power of a four year old on speed most days? you may ask

well it actually makes it super easy to put everything in, and if I put a task in the wrong spot I can move it easily, plus I can add due dates if I want, or a million reminders at all times of day if I want, but the main deal is that it’s a holding place for everything I need to do. When writing my daily list, I check my Do Now category first in all my lists (I have one for Uni, one for my student org I run, and one for any extra tasks that need done) and write all those in. Then I go to the 5 Min Tasks category of only the Uni and Extra tasks lists and add those in, and then I’m good for the day and I can start it all

As for getting the tasks in there, I paid the extra one time 99cent charge to get the widget for my home screen on my phone, and whenever I hear someone ask me to do something, I shove the task in there. My mom asks me off handedly to do the dishes? I throw it in with a reminder every half hour until I complete it. Someone asks me to send some emails? throw them in the 5 min category and tell it to remind me when I get to my computer (because it can do that, too, location based reminders for when you arrive or leave somewhere, which is great for reminding myself to pick something up on my way home from uni)

Strategy 3: Accountability

I don’t live alone, I never have, so part of my strategy as well is to have people I live with hold me accountable. Not in like a “you’re my minder now, hover over my desk to make sure I work” kind of way, but in a way that I tell someone who will be around what I have to do that day in a casual way - me and my roommates used to run through everything after we were all home from class, me and my mom tell our days to each other each morning since we both have trouble keeping on task - then when someone sees me doing something not on my list they ask me about it, which reminds me of what I need to be doing.

for example, if I mention to my sister that I need to read, send emails, and write a paper today, then if she sees me watching tv or on my phone she’ll ask me what’s up, did I finish my shit yet? which then spurs my brain into “fuck, I got off track, time to jump back in” mode. 

If you live alone, the best way to do this is to make a post about being busy or texting someone that you have a lot of stuff to do, then if they see you on social media or if you get stuck in a conversation with them, they’ll call you out. 

ADHD brains need constant call outs because we can’t tell when we’ve gone off track and followed tangents because our brain just wants dopamine and doesn’t care where it comes from, so it won’t question it once it gets what it wants, whereever that comes from.

so - tl;dr I shove any task I get into an app (if you’re not an app person, just make notes on your phone or put it in your calendar or voice recordings or whatever works best for your brain that you’ll remember to check) and unload all the tasks onto a smaller more streamlined daily task list that I write and check off each day, and make sure there’s someone that knows what I’m not supposed to be doing so they’ll call me out when I get off task for too long.

Now go forth and get shit accomplished! I believe in you!

[lycorogue]

Tag Game: Authors

Tagged by: @livrever

Author name: I make life easy for everyone. I’m LycoRogue just about everywhere.

Fandoms I write for: I mostly write for Miraculous Ladybug, starting in the fandom late 2017. In the past (about 2010-2013), I was almost exclusively writing for the “Hey, Arnold!” fandom. While not as many, I’ve also started up some Fruits Basket stories once the reboot began airing last year. Beyond those normal fandoms, I’ve also thrown in random fics for any old thing that has caught my attention: a couple of stories for the Enderverse series, a random story based on a song about zombies, a one-shot teaser about a Cirque du Soleil show, and oddly only one Legend of Zelda story even though that’s probably my favorite fandom outside of ML. I’ve also had some “fanfics” that were MOSTLY original works based vaguely in the worlds of pre-established properties, such as backstories and side stories for my D&D characters, a short-lived attempt to recap the World of Darkness - Vampire: The Masquerade LARP I was in, and stories for the original characters I created for an X-Men play-by-post. The PbP, called X-Future, was a game where all of the playable characters were OCs that only occasionally interact with canon Marvel characters.

Where I post: You can find my works here on Tumblr (tag #LycoRogue Fanfic), over on AO3, on FFN, and - if you’re desperate - I still post to DA.

Most popular one-shot: Based only on AO3′s stats, it would be my Lukanette birthday gift for @thetauruspixie: I Was Thinking of You  (As of 3/6/20: it has 1773 hits and 208 kudos)

OK, this became long because that’s just who I am... 9_9 So... if you want to know more about me, check below the break. ^_^

Favorite story I wrote: I have a multi-chapter story and a one-shot. Both are for ML. The multi-chapter story is Peeping Tomcat, and it is my magnum opus! It started off as one of the first-ever fanfics I wrote for the fandom, and then I realized it had LOADS more story to tell. It is the first multi-chapter story I’ve completed, despite starting and abandoning about a half-dozen before it. This is my baby! The story is about Chat Noir checking in on Marinette once when he thought she was in danger, and then got addicted to innocently spying on her in her bedroom in order to learn more about her while she’s relaxed and most “herself”. I have a sequel that has been in the works for nearly 2yrs now. Yes, I AM still working on the sequel One and the Same, in case any of my readers were nervous about that....

The one-shot is Build Your Own Luck which is a headcanon story about where I believe that lucky charm bracelet Marinette gave Adrien originally came from. It’s a sweet family-bonding story that I loved so much that I’m tying it into my Peeping Tomcat canon. The story behind The BraceletTM will appear in One and the Same.

I also really love one of those “mostly original” stories for X-Future. It was a story originally written by @cyhyr‘s spouse, but when I corrected him on how my character Willow would have truly acted in that situation we decided to make it a collab story. Then it became monstrous, and I think I overwhelmed him. So it’s kind of been in limbo for a few years, but I periodically go back to that project every couple of months, really wanting to get it back down to a manuscript he can manage so we can complete it. For anyone interested, the as-of-now-unofficially-abandoned story is Please, Let Me Explain. In the roleplay, his character Devon left the Xavier Institute to find out more about the parents that abandoned him as an infant. About 1/2hr later, the school gets destroyed in an attack, and the surviving students and faculty believe Devon had something to do with it. Two years later, Devon returns to the school, surprised to find out there were any survivors after spending the last 20 months or so “avenging” all of the students’ deaths. My character Willow is pissed at Devon. He wants to prove his innocence to her. Things are complicated....

Story I was nervous to post: I mean, I’m always nervous to put my heart and soul out there; screaming into the void. Especially when I write things that are more original-leaning. Or when I’m writing gifts for people, especially for those fandom exchanges. Those are terrifying because you know virtually nothing about the person you’re writing for, so you don’t truly know if they’ll like it. I still have a couple of stories that resulted in complete radio-silence from the receiver. 

The one I was MOST nervous about though? Probably one I’m still nervous about sharing here. It’s my first-ever published smut for a fandom I didn’t even know existed until last summer and has seemingly died off since the book series completed back in like 2012. My story is called Sparks for the Moment and is for the story Bitterblue within the Seven Kingdoms Trilogy (also known as the Graceling Series). It’s a bittersweet sex scene that takes place between canonical scenes at the end of the story, so beware spoilers.

How do I choose titles:  Oh lord, how DO I choose titles!? It’s usually a truly grueling process because I try to stick to 4 rules of thumb:  1. Something that is significant to the story, be it an item or a phrase or a theme, etc. 2. Something that gives you an idea of the feel of the story based on the title (I have no clue if I ever succeeded on this) 3. Something easy to remember; generally less than 5 words long. 4. A title that isn’t already being used by another author (this makes things REAL tricky)

Do you outline? Ummmmm.... Once upon a time? No. I was a full-on pantser. Then, more-or-less when I was working on Peeping Tomcat I became more of a plantser. I now have a skeleton of what I want to write, and try to get as much figured out as I can, only for the characters to go “HAHAHA. Nope.” and then I just kinda follow them.

Complete: 35

Cirque du Soleil (1) Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game) (2) Enderverse (2) Fruits Basket (4) Hey Arnold! (7) Re: Your Brains - Jonathan Coulton (Song) (1) The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (1) Miraculous Ladybug (16) Seven Kingdoms Trilogy - Kristin Cashore (1)

Incomplete (I added this one for ReasonsTM): 

Pseudo LoZ and Fable crossover original hybrid thing (1) Hey Arnold! (1) World of Darkness - Vampire: The Masquerade (1)

In progress: After unofficially abandoning so many stories, I’ve stopped publishing any until the whole story is written and just needs one last polish. That was how I managed to get Peeping Tomcat done. That said, I have a couple of irons in the fire.

Main WIP: One and the Same Current WIP: Love Square Fluff Week 2020 (an exception to the “wait til it’s all written rule) Random On-going WIP: I Don’t Care (I never intended this to be an on-going story, but there you have it) “Backburner” WIPs:  > What Is Truly Meant To Be (A HA! story I unintentionally abandoned in 2013)  > X-Future: The Second Generation Begins (My recapping of the X-Future game)  > X-Future Snippets (Random one-shot stories in the X-Future universe)  > Please, Let Me Explain (The aforementioned X-Future collab)

Plunnies:   > When Love Matters (a retelling of the ML series if Gabriel actually was a loving father)  > A collab with @thetauruspixie to write a Fu-centric story telling of his travels through Europe with the Miracle Box and his love affair with Marianne

Do you take prompts? I’ll be honest, I struggle a touch with prompts, but I like challenging myself. One of the reasons I’m doing the gift exchanges. So, if you have a prompt idea, I’d love to hear it. See if it inspires me. :D

Upcoming project I’m most excited about: When Love Matters. I wanted to work on that between breaks, while I had time to backtrack before more episodes aired. Considering how long OatS is taking though, I might not get to start his project until about the time S4 starts. 9_9

Tagging but you are under no obligations to participate: @thetauruspixie, @cyhyr, @chibisunnie, @rikareena, @coffeecomicsgalore, @chanceuseladynoire, @zenmisery, @i-am-the-niece-of-satan (I know some of you are socially anxious, so again, you are under NO OBLIGATION to participate. I just figured people might be interested in knowing more about you)

Also, if you write and want to answer, assume I’m tagging you as well. I’d love to know more about your writing.

[morshtalon]

Dragon Quest II

Well, it's been a while since I wrote a review on something. I've played a number of games in the meantime, but none of them really gave me anything I felt was worth talking about or that hasn't been talked about before, so I just keep them in the backburner of my mind for possible future reference.

However, I feel like current circumstances make for a good time to dig up one of the games I wanted to share my thoughts on for a long time, and that I had beaten before even writing the first review I've ever "published". That game is Dragon Quest II.

Part of the reason why I held off on it for so long is that I don't think my review of the first game is all that great, and another part is that, again, I don't feel like I've bunched up enough good stuff to say, even though I really wanted to talk about it ever since I played it.

But hey, by far and wide my post popular post is technically related to Dragon Quest II, so why not cut to the chase and do it, right?

Anyway, to say that the first game took off in popularity is an understatement, it being the seminal harbinger of an entire genre of gaming that would soon take the world by storm. You would think that means this would be the time-old tale of "runaway success game making company executives pressure developers into slaving away at a sequel with suffocating deadlines". However, planning for DQII apparently began before DQI was released. 1986 was a different time, I guess. A time when the industry was fledgling enough that it wasn't that much more than a group of dudes banding together to bring an idea to life, and then - not a moment of hesitation after that idea comes to fruition - immediately start brainstorming ways in which they can build on it to give birth to new, more complex explorations of the concepts they had just tackled.

I believe this is why it's good to go back and play these games in their original versions, in chronological release order. Nowadays, it's virtually impossible to innovate. Back then, almost every big-time franchise was always finding ways to breathe fresh air into the structure of their games. Though Dragon Quest isn't the most innovative when compared to the likes of Final Fantasy, they were still making great strides into the codification of the type of game they had pioneered. With that knowledge in mind, one can really appreciate the evolution by going back and exploring these things as they grew with the times. And hey, Final Fantasy still wasn't around by the time DQII came out, so once again, they had to rely on ideas from western RPGs they liked.

In my opinion, II is the first jRPG that actually feels good to play, if you can put yourself into the mindset of an 80's gamer. The designers felt the 1v1 battles of the first title were boring - a sentiment which I share - and put in different groups of enemies as well as extra party members for you to find. One thing that some of these old RPGs that only let you target a group of enemies does is drawing only one enemy sprite on-screen to represent the entire group. Surprisingly, this game does not do that, even though it predates all the ones that do. It draws every enemy on-screen, which doesn't seem like much nowadays, but it's very appreciated nonetheless. Sure, it came at the cost of battle backgrounds (all fights in this game are set against pure blackness), but they did the right thing. The party itself follows what would become a typical archetype of 3-person groups: One character who is a jack-of-all-stats, balanced between physical prowess and magic, one who is focused on physical combat (in this game, this character actually has no magic capabilities whatsoever), and one who is a pure mage. Perhaps surprisingly, because these structures hadn't become tropes yet, the main character is the physical one, and he's also pretty much the most reliable party member by a reasonable margin, even though all he can do is attack normally. Balance issues aside (we'll talk about that later), I honestly sort of dig this arrangement. It's a little bit of a breath of fresh air to see the main character in an RPG rely completely on his weapons, and in the future, in any DQ title that has a reasonable degree of character customization, I always try to make the protagonist a physical powerhouse, to match the one from this game. It hardly ever works, but hey, it just goes for show that I enjoyed it while playing. Given that the other party members join you as you progress through the game at specific points, that also means the complexity of magic spells is added to your arsenal slowly, getting you used to it without feeling overwhelming. Sure, the game is simple enough that it wouldn't be overwhelming regardless of how they had set up the pacing, but I never felt like any of the times I struggled were because of insufficient knowledge of the game mechanics. So, the battles are fun enough, and they feel just right in terms of complexity vs. focus. The strategies to win are simple - really, the whole game is very simple - but it does its job well, and it allowed the developers to have near-perfect control of the game's difficulty curve. As a result, it is also - almost up to the end of the game - pretty nice, even if the whole thing is on the challenging end of things. At the end, it gets... A little special. We'll get to that later.

Let's take a step back and look at the gameplay outside battles. First of all, the story is... sparse, to say the least. Not as much as the one in the first game, and supplemented in the international version by a frankly kick-ass introduction that gives the experience a certain tone and atmosphere I appreciate a lot, but still, it's 1987. jRPGs were... not so much about the story back then, if you can believe that. In fact, they were more like an extension of a point-and-click adventure game. DQII is, essentially, a big fetch quest. In a different story, one that has enough plot points that you can sense a type of underlying narrative progression, I would not enjoy having the game interrupted by a blatant collectathon. However, the fetch quest aspect is basically the soul of this entire game. The extremely loose story paves the way for an experience that boils down to pure exploration and combat, with light elements of puzzle-solving woven in, using the fetch quest premise simply as a background to leave the developers with fertile soil to plant their little tricks and enigmas without worrying too much about how it would all connect rationally. And here, we witness an aspect of old games that could only spring about as a byproduct of limited graphics, ill-defined representations of the setting's reality, and a healthy disregard for common sense, things that were the style at the time. The puzzles, and sometimes just the exploration, violate logic quite heavily. Traversing through a monster-infested castle to get to a point that is technically outside the castle, but you can't just walk around it because most of the outside grass tiles are exit tiles that warp you back to the world map? Sure, why not? Having dedicated "teleport-room" maps that only serve the explicit purpose of housing a teleporter to another part of the world, except for one which also houses a chest with an essential item if you walk along the right border of the map, but not the identical-looking left one? Mario 2 hid a goal post inside a secret too, so yeah! Throw that in! Stairs down in a brick islet surrounded by water which brings you to a room that's... Also at water level? We hardly have enough tiles to go around, let alone a set to represent underwater or underground rooms, so whatever! Nobody cares! And, honestly, I truly don't care, either. If a game is up to, let's say, willfully forgo a bit of logic in order to formulate a creative puzzle to play around with your expectations, then all the more power to it. I honestly feel like puzzles nowadays are too sectioned-off, contained within a single room in a single dungeon, ready for the player to walk in, solve it, move on to the next point in the flowchart and never think about it twice. When puzzles are woven in so closely with the world, requiring the player to think outside the box at all times, as they're out there exploring, it makes the whole game feel like it's working together to make a point, and helps reduce that feeling one gets when playing RPGs where there are very separate elements of gameplay that... Don't really connect to each other very well. Sure, you're blatantly aware you're playing a videogame at all times, and it's not super great for immersion, but this was a time when there just... wasn't enough memory for immersion. It was a constraint that naturally gave way to challenges that capitalized on its own limitations, and therefore, created a type of immersion of its own, where the player is completely sucked into their own thoughts, holding a notebook with a rough sketch of the world map in their hand (yeah, I might have done that), taking notes and thinking where in the world could that last crest possibly be?! I think DQII hit that sweet spot of looseness vs. clarity in the narrative that helped these wild, nonsensical elements flourish. I really don't know how other people react to this sort of thing, but I don't care. I had a good time with it, and soon after this game, everything RPG started to become more focused on story. That's definitely not a bad thing, but I felt a kind of clear, developer-to-player kind of communication from these small bits of wrongness that made me more aware of the time, effort and creativity put into it by the people who were making it. I realized that, were I in the shoes of the dude who was making all this crazy stuff, I'd be stoked to see my friends trying to solve them. I'm not trying to be sentimental, that's how I honestly felt while playing that part with the teleporter and the chest. In any case, I appreciated it.

Then you get to the road to Rhone.

Though, apparently, the game was not pressured into deadlines by higher-ups, I did read something about one of the guys in the team offhandedly setting a deadline that turned out to be just that little bit too tight, requiring it to be delayed from November 1986 to January 1987. This, along with the fact that, at the time, the second title in a franchise had the habit of being designed for people who were hardcore fans of the first game in that series, might go a little ways into explaining why everything starting from the road to Rhone is absolutely fucking brutal. Every element of the game that, previously, was a tad questionable, leaving that little itch of worry in the back of your head, returns here with the express intent to make your life miserable. I have a high tolerance for difficulty, one that is even higher for RPGs where, for the most part, there are always ways to slightly circumvent it and make your life easier. The simplicity of design in DQII means that this is not the case here, and from this point on you're expected to not only have the skill and familiarity you've accrued while playing, but also a very healthy amount of luck to go with you, otherwise you will die. And rest assured, you WILL die. In fact, due to the specific way in which the player's mortality rate skyrockets in Rhone, it's almost not even a matter of the game being "hard" in the traditional sense, because it doesn't exactly require you to be strong enough or smart enough anymore, it just requires you to be patient enough to slowly trudge through the mountain of corpses of your former attempts until you figure out how to minimize your risks to the lowest degree they possibly can be minimized, then hitting that sweet spot of luck and control that finally allows you to reach the end of the game. This particular way of handling things means that, after you hit about level 30 with the main character, further leveling will only render you negligibly less likely to die, and the effects are not strong enough from level to level to even be clearly noticed. But what exactly makes it so hard? The answer is primarily RNG. When you reach the end, you will begin to notice just how much RNG there is through the whole game. Starting off, the turn order is entirely random. There is an agility stat, but I never found any evidence of it actually factoring into who goes first in battle (instead, it's a carryover from DQI that calculates your base defense). If there are more than three enemies, you're at a disadvantage, but even if there aren't, a stray run of bad luck - which is guaranteed to happen given the density of random encounters - means you're gonna have to scramble with enemy attacks, and they are perfectly capable of leaving you in such a state that it would take a miracle to put yourself back in shape, if they don't just wipe you out instantly. Now, remember, two of your three characters have magic. However, at this point in the game, enemies have a large amount of magic resistance to all kinds of different spells, and magic resistance in this game means that there is a chance the spell simply won't work. If it does, it deals full damage. If it doesn't, it deals none at all. I don't know about you, but I almost never take my chances with low-accuracy, gimmicky stuff in other games. This one renders all spells like that given enough time. If you decide to rely on physical strength, the main character is the only one who will bring you any significant results. The pure mage at this point in the game is far more efficient at support casting than direct damage, and the balanced character is - memetically, at this point - incompetent at both, and also sucks as a physical fighter, so once again, you're boned on that front. All of a sudden, running away becomes an alluring strategy. However, once again, there is an ever-prevalent random factor to it, so the pressure is on in all fronts. The game becomes a challenge of carefully planning out how to simply survive each encounter. Do you take the chance and run? If you fail, you'll be wailed on by the full force of the enemy party, and will likely be too weak to attempt mounting a resistance. Do you take the bait and unleash the full force of your attacks? What if they all target different enemies in the group? You won't deal enough damage to kill one of them, so you'll suffer heavy retaliation and waste precious MP that could be spent on healing spells. Did you win or escape successfully? You've only lost about 20% of your health, but some encounters can relieve you of the remaining 80% before you can even act, so do you spend MP healing or do you trudge on because you already don't have that many to go around? If you make the wrong decision at any of these break points - and rest assured, there won't be a shortage of them - you'll either die or get so close to death it will be almost irrelevant to keep going. And then, it's back to the last save point. Rinse and repeat many times until you clear the road and get to Rhone proper, for one final save point and one last, grueling stretch of game before the final boss. Here, the game introduces enemies that have, no joke, a move that kills your entire party and has 100% accuracy. Typing it out, it sounds like hyperbole, like i'm salty that I died so much and am exaggerating the things the game does in order to trick myself into believing that it was super impossible times infinity, but no, it's true. To be fair, there isn't a high chance the enemy will perform this move, but when they do, there's absolutely nothing you can do to save yourself. Just reset the game when the screen turns red. Other than that, the rest of the lovely cast of enemies rounding up the final waves are more than capable of just killing you the regular way, so keep your wits about you like you did back in the cave and grind yourself up until the stat bonuses start getting negligible, because now, you need to face five bosses in a row. Right, okay, technically you can go back and heal yourself right before the last one, but I didn't know that, so if you're an idiot like me, try to get ahold of a Wizard Ring, as well. It's the only way to heal MP, and can be used multiple times until - you guessed it - it randomly decides to break. After that, you just have to contend with two bosses that use a move that heals all their HP when it gets low, so you also have to roughly keep track of their state in your mind so you can unleash a full round of attack before they can get in that heal. Unless your spell doesn't hit them, of course. Or they happen to go first. Or you just barely miss the threshold of HP that will actually kill them. Oh, and be careful! One of the other bosses also knows the instant death move. He won't use it often, but 30 or so attempts in, you're likely to see it once or twice.

Then, the final boss can randomly spawn with a number of hit points between 75% and 100% of his assigned value (every enemy does that), and you're gonna deal an average of about 15% damage per turn to it. Sounds easy at first, but he will take you out in either one or two moves, and...

...Here's the motherload...

...He has a 1 in 16 chance of casting the full heal move at any point in the battle. And he WILL do that the first 2 or 3 times you get to him, sucking you dry of resources and smashing your face all the way back to the save point to try the 5 bosses again, so it's back to grinding attempts until you have another mostly hopeless shot at him.

But when you get him, man...

When you do it...

*sigh*

Anyway, this was a long, rambling, focus-shifting tangent just to correctly capture the degree of luck and randomness that constitutes the final stretch of Dragon Quest II. How does it impact the rest of the game? Well, I still appreciate it for what it did right, and there's a small, strange part of me that actually thinks the insane difficulty perfectly fits the stakes that the game set up, but it is, nevertheless, very hard. And once again, it's the kind of hard that is virtually impossible to circumvent. For any average, non-god-tier player, there is no alternate way of tackling the simple-looking, but highly controlled challenges in this game that trivializes it. You can't change your party, you can't buy extra spells, you can't really use stat-up items to change stat configurations in any significant way. You just have to keep trying and hope it works, and for the first few dozen times, it won't, so you'll just have to deal with it.

Still, it shows, even up to the end, that the DQ team has a certain grasp of consistency in design that will slowly grow and adapt as the series embraces new complexities through the years. DQII stands as somewhat of a black sheep in the series (as the second titles of old franchises often do), but I think it has its place, and it's surely a wild ride. Also, if you can get yourself into the mindset of late 80's design, I can assure you it won't ever be boring. Maddening, sure, but not boring. It's more fun in the midgame, in my opinion, as for someone who is very used to RPGs, it can be exceesingly simplistic at the start and too hopelessly uncontrollable at the end, but I feel it deserves a score of 7 out of 10. It's pure gameplay, and, for what it's worth, you WILL get an intense experience. Just be ready to shake, a lot. And pad your walls.

[kokichi-and-co-imagine-blog]

Lucky you Mod Kiri, finishing the semester on the 10th. I have at least a month more. Anyway, now that you're offering... can we have some more Naegiri? Don't know what to request exactly (other than even more PMD AU) but I know I'll love it regardless if you're writing it. Although if I had to think of something specific... I don't know, maybe Makoto trying to surprise Kyoko with a gift or something?

You always like to feed my obsession with these two, don’t you? Not that I’m going to complain about it. And you know I’d always be willing to continue the PMD AU.

The opportunity this request presented however, was too good to pass up on.

She recognized the look on his face from the moment he walked in to her office. The sheepish, slightly nervous smile, the hand scratching at his cheek, the apologetic gleam in his eye. All of it.

She knew exactly what it meant.

“Hey, Kyouko,” he greeted. He moved to the side where she sat and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, which she gave a small smile at. “So… I think I need your help wi-“

“What did you lose this time?” She interrupted, still looking down at what she was writing.

“H-hey!” He sputtered. “What makes you think-! I mean… why is that your first guess?”

“Because the last three times you’ve come here with those exact words was because you’d lost something and wanted help finding the object in question,” She reminded him, tone remaining flat.

“T-true, I’ll give you that.” He said, scratching at his cheek again. “B-but it’s not like that’s the only reason I’d ever ask for your help with something. It could be about something else.”

“True. It very well could,” she conceded. Then, she finally glanced over at him. “So?”

“‘So?’” he echoed. “So what?”

She turned her head fully to better look at him. “Why do you need my help this time? If it’s not for locating something you misplaced, then what is it?”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

“…”

“…”

“…Ok fine, yes I lost something.” He finally admitted, his face turning a bright shade of red. The urge to laugh at the downright adorable look on his face was too great, and she let out a chuckle at his embarrassed expression. “Kyouko…” He let out a whine and dropped his gaze to his shoes, shuffling a bit on his feet.

“Makoto, you know I don’t mind helping you when this happens. I just would’ve thought that you wouldn’t get so embarrassed about asking by this point with how often it happens is all,” she reassured him.

“I know, I know…” he muttered, still staring holes into the floor.

She shook her head at him, suppressing another laugh. She then stood up from her desk and started to move toward the door.

“Your office, I presume?”

“…Yeah,”

“And what exactly am I looking for this time?” She looked back at him as she opened the door and stepped out.

He let out an ‘ah’ sound and practically ran to catch up with her as she held open the door.  “Ah, thanks Kyouko!” He quickly fell in line walking next to her. “And as for what it is it’s… kinda hard to describe it? It’s kind of a small, dark… thing?” He frowned, trying to use his hands to draw out the shape. When that failed, he let them drop to his sides and gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I know that’s really vague. B-but! I think you’d recognize it when you see it at least!”

“Hm…” she hummed. They fell into silence after that, he only sounds between them being their quiet footsteps. It was a nice change of pace from the chaotic noise usually heard within the hallways. With school having finished for the day hours ago, she and Makoto were the only ones still here.

Still, she couldn’t enjoy the quiet too much; her mind was already racing with thoughts from what he’d mentioned. A hand came to her chin as she went over his descriptions again. Something small, dark, and easily recognizable to her… not exactly much to go on. And very bizarre to hear from him.

It was strange he was so unspecific about it, he was normally a lot better with giving her details than that. She gave him another quick side glance to see him fidgeting with his fingers as they walked, his gaze pointed squarely in front of them, almost as if to avoid her own. He was still this wound up about it? She could understand him feeling a little guilty about asking her for her help in this again—that was normal for him—but this was excessive even for his standards.

Did this have to do with the item in question? But what could he have lost that would make him this anxious? She couldn’t think of anything he had that he could have lost that would make him this frazzled—unless of course, he was nervous because it was something she didn’t know about. But he hated hiding things from her, and he was terrible at it to boot, so what-

“You know, I still find it weird walking in these hallways after all this time,” his voice suddenly cut through her musing. “It looks so different now but… I still can’t shake off how familiar it feels. The good and bad.”

Deciding to put her other thoughts on the backburner, she gave a nod. “I understand. I feel the same some days.” She let her hand run along the wall as they turned the corner, closing her eyes for a moment.

Though the structure of the school had remained the same, much of the school, if not all of it had been completely redone. Even in spite of that, there were some days where it was difficult not to get lost in the memories from their lives in these wall, both before and after the Tragedy. Some days, the sickly smell of death that she knew had long gone lingered just a little too strongly on the walls.

“…We’ve been through a lot in these hallways, haven’t we? In this school.”

It wasn’t a question. “We have.”

“…Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“I mean, ever coming to Hope’s Peak in the first place,” he motioned around them. “So much happened because of this place and… sometimes I just wonder about it, y’know?” He gave a shrug as he met her eyes again. “Was just curious if you ever did too.”

She had given the idea a passing thought or two over the years, but…

“I prefer not to dwell on the what-could-have-beens,” she answered, running a hand through her hair. She tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. “There’s no way to make them real by this point. I think it’s best to move forward without lamenting about regrets.”

Makoto let out a soft laugh. “I thought you’d say something like that. It’s just like you to think practically about it.”

“Hm, and what about you then?” She asked. He drummed his fingers n his thigh for a moment, seeming to be collecting his thoughts.

“I… do think about regrets I have sometimes. Most of all about how I wish I’d never dragged my family into any of what we went through; they didn’t deserve that, any of them. And sometimes I think about those kind of regrets a lot. But…” His face hardened with resolve, and he looked back at her with a brilliant smile. “Then I think of the good that came from me going to Hope’s Peak. All the friends I made, the memories with them that I’ll always cherish. About all the good I get to do now, even if I wish the situation as a whole was better. And, most importantly… I know that if I never went to Hope’s Peak, I never would have gotten to meet you. And I could never regret getting to do that.” He reached down for one of her gloved hands, intertwining their fingers together. “I’d go through it all again if I had to just to do that again

Almost immediately she felt her face warm at that. She ran her free hand through her hair again as she looked toward the window to attempt to avoid his eyes. She could practical feel the grin he was wearing. “Of course you’d answer in such a sentimental way. You’re just as much of an open hearted optimist as always I see.” She said, though she was well aware the words were undercut by the twitch of her lips. His grip on her hand tightened in a light squeeze which she soon returned.

He laughed. “What else would you expect from me? It’s what I do best, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is a part of your charm. How else would you have managed to convince to most reclusive person in our class to warm up to you without it?” She folded her arms across her chest and smirked at him. He gave a sheepish expression and rubbed at the back of his head.

They stopped in front of the door to his office. He reluctantly retracted his hand from hers, then rushed forward to open the door for the both of them, letting her enter first. She acknowledged it with a nod, then set to work analyzing his office for anything out of place or off. She moved toward the side to get a better overall view of the room. Her hand went to her chin as she took in the details.

Makoto trailed behind her, not unlike how he would when they were trapped here all those years ago. “I’d say it makes us quite the pairing then, wouldn’t you? The difference between our personalities?” He offered. “I think it balances us out pretty well, me being the optimistic one who believes in people and you being the more reality, logic based one.”

“Is that how he sees us?” She silently wondered. She couldn’t say it was inaccurate, he certainly helped be able to believe in people, even if only a fraction more. Instead of verbalizing that, she nodded, still scanning over the room. “I suppose it does, yes.”

…Over there. A shadow caught her eye near the window. On his desk, partially obscured by a stack of papers that he probably needed to sign and his computer monitor, there was something there. She hadn’t seen it when they walked because of the angle, but from here it was quite clear, and it seemed to match what little descriptives he’d given.

“Odd though. He would’ve been able to see it sitting there,” she noted. There would have been nothing blocking his view of it from behind the desk. Unless he was just that unobservant.

…Which to be fair, he certainly had his moments.

She once again decided not to voice that thought and instead started to walk toward his desk.

He stayed where he was standing by the door. “I think it’s part what’s made us such an effective team over the years with all that we’ve done. From before the Tragedy, to the killing school life, to our work with the Future Foundation and the Neo World Program, and to now with restarting Hope’s Peak.” He continued, a few nerves creeping into his voice, but otherwise remaining strong. “A-and I hope that it will continue to be that way, don’t you? For a long time?”

“Yes, of course I do,” she answered carefully, giving a quick glance behind her at him. This seemed like a strange time to be bringing this up. She stopped right at the edge of his desk and started moving some papers out if the way to get a better look.

“A-ah, that’s great! I hope so too. But uh… if you don’t mind me asking… how long do you consider a ‘long time’?”

“What do you-“ The question died in her throat when her eyes finally fell onto the object she’d been looking for. She felt her breath hitch.

It was a box. A small, darkly colored box, that she most certainly recognized the most common use for.

She struggled to retain her normal composure as the implications of what was happening hit her full force. “He couldn’t be… he’s not…. this isn’t…!” Her thoughts trailed off until they were nothing more than jumbled static in her head. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. This couldn’t be the reason for his nerves, no!

Her other hand started to move shakily toward the box before she was aware of what she was doing. She had to know. She could be jumping to conclusion. It could be something else entirely. With trembling fingers she grabbed hold of the box, then opened it up.

She almost dropped it.

It was a ring.

“…because I was kinda thinking that long time could mean… permanently,” Makoto finished. She turned to look at him, but found him much lower than she normally had to look. He was on one knee. Her normal, cool and controller mask shattered completely. A hand shot to her mouth to keep the gasp from getting out. Something pricked at the corner of her eyes.

“Kyouko… I know I kinda already said this but… you’ve been such an important part of my life through everything we’ve seen; I don’t think I’d still be here if not for all that you’ve done for me. We’ve stood together through so much and I know we’ll continue to for the years to come. You’re just so incredible and amazing and I just… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I hate to reuse your own words but…” He took in a deep breath, shoulder heaving, before flashing another pure, genuine smile at her. “Will you always stay by my side?”

Kyouko Kirigiri knew many things about herself. She was not often one to enjoy being surprised. Or to allow herself to show much emotion, let alone tears. Or to find herself at a loss for words.

And yet, as she stood in front of the man who, as he’d stated in his own words, she’d been through so much with together, she found all three occuring. A smile that she could not fight off, nor wanted to, worked its way onto her face from behind her glove. Tears began to fall from her eyes as she rapidly nodded her head, too overwhelmed with emotion to trust her voice to work.

Makoto let out a joyful laugh and rose up from where he’d been kneeling, wobbling a bit as tears began to fall from his own eyes. He practically tackled her as he enveloped her into a tight embrace. She practically collapsed into his arms, head resting on his shoulder.

He leaned closer to her ear. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, you have no idea.” They pulled away from the hug and looked at one another.

She let out a shuddering breath to collect herself. “Did you anticipate I’d reject it?” she asked with an amused, still slightly watery smile.

“N-no, not necessarily but… I did worry about how I was gonna say it all. I may or may have not rehearsed that a lot… And maybe kinda still went off script on a lot of it…” He scratched the back of his head with a sheepish look. “…I sounded like a total dork while saying all that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes you did,” she laughed. She took hold of his face and pointed it towards her. He gave her a shy smile before she bent down to kiss him. He took hold of one of her hands and threaded their fingers together.

He was a complete and utter dork, but she wouldn’t have him any other way. 

And she couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them next.

[64-bitsims]

Updates and WIP Pics! (Long post under the cut)

To begin, I wanted to let you all know I’ve officially made a resources page! This has all of my defaults, sliders, etc., that I use regularly. If you download my sims, I recommend checking it out (some things, like skins, sliders and/or eyes, might be necessary for my sims to look exactly the same as they do in screenshots.) I also have started a playlist of the week, which can be found in my links on my blog if you’re interested!

For other general blog things, I also am working on my Trash Bag Baby gameplay and finding a schedule that works for my blog and my followers, as I do want to be more consistent with that. I also want to be able to queue around things, so I’ve been trying to figure out the best times so I can get back to spreading love by sharing edits or gameplay from other blogs in my queue like I have in the past.

Now that general blog information is done with, the first picture shown is the plain version of the redone lee shirt. this version is preeeeeeetty much complete! i need to go in and fix the uv on the left cuff bc it bothers me right now

second pic shows all of the plaid patterns that the plaid version will have! the first 17 are simply grey + one color, the other 23 are various color pairings! I need to add some emphasis on the buttons/pockets/seams on the shirt so the plaid doesn’t cover it up completely, but other than that we’re making good progress! i found an easier way to make plaid patterns, god bless.

finally for our last piece of cc, we have the updated version of the molly dress. the gap in the mesh that was there is now gone! also, I’m working on shading and the linework, specifically this spot on the side where they previously didnt line up (still needs some work, but its getting there!) I’ve also made the shading on the back match up more with the rest of the dress, and am working on making the edges on the back, chest, and straps less wonky. (the way it sits on the mesh is making this difficult, so we’ll see how it goes.)

for general blog wips, i’m working on making a different downloads page. I wanted something with filters but also that I could edit easier. (I was really having trouble with the last code I was using tbh, but thats probably because I’m dumb when it comes to these things lol.) this should be up soon!

Another general WIP is my posting of the sims from my “Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of Your Fist” Songs as Sims challenge post! There are three remaining sims (shown above) for the sim dump which will be released as soon as I compile their CC!

Finally, the last thing not shown is the CC Pack I’m working on. This pack is going to be HUGE; according to my word document, I have 118 items in packages ready to be worked on, and about 100 more cc ideas listed. However, that’s just the CAS items– I also have build/buy items in mind! So please continue to be patient with me; I plan to really buckle down and work on these items as soon as I update my old CC (since I want to be happy with that before I move on), finish my downloads page, and complete the sims from the challenge post that I’ve been releasing in segments. I am also working on writing a real sims story, but that’s been put on the backburner until I complete this pack.

As a final note, I want to thank you all for following me and putting up with my complaining, shenanigans, and inconsistancy. It really means a lot to me, and that’s the main reason I wanted to give this huge update, since I know I don’t really show all of the things I’m working on and I want to get away from that. I enjoy sharing my sims projects, so I’m making you look at them dammit!

If you’ve read this far, thank you and i love you.

[agallimaufryofoddments]

I think today I’m going to do something I’ve been contemplating doing for a while now, which is “write an article on Czes’ notorious smuggled explosives.” The Baccano! Wiki hasn’t really done much in the way of articles on objects, save for the Grand Panacea and the Cure-All Elixir - which are currently categorized as alchemy articles - but I’ve become increasingly convinced that there’d be value in one for said explosives?

It’s not just that the explosives are extremely relevant to the 1931 arc - it’s that they also prove relevant in later arcs as well, and wind up in the hands of quite a few people. That, and Narita actually provides information on their creation + characteristics. I figure at least some fans would find an article compiling all this info useful? 

Anyway the reason I made this post is to express my gratitude toward Narita for actually giving the explosives a name (Strawberry Ice Pop), which makes it easier to both create and justify an article on it. Although, now that I think about it, this means that we have more information on said explosives than we do on some of Baccano!’s characters. Wow. Give the Contortionist a name already.

With wikis, some unnamed topics are easier to create article titles for than others... When I wrote an article on the setting of Vol 5, I went with “Northern European Village” as its name. Without the name “Strawberry Ice Pop” I’d really be out of luck. “Czeslaw’s Explosives?” Yeesh.

(Tangent, but how am I going to categorize SIP if we don’t have a Category:Objects/Items...? I think I can get away with using Category:Alchemy for now since Czes is an alchemist. Plus LN2 says that SIP is a byproduct of his research, and while I don’t think the novel specifies the nature of this ‘research’ I feel like it’s reasonable to assume it was alchemy-based...)

(Even more of a tangent, but I wonder if there are any other items that could potentially warrant an article? Vol 4′s stolen drugs are relatively important as the novel’s MacGuffin, hm... A list of weapons seems more of a backburner thing than something strictly necessary. Though, a subpage or trivia section on Huey’s inventions might be fun...)

(In any case, I wonder if I should make some sort of alchemy infobox. How to structure it, though...)

[proven-paradox]

In which I yell about 5E Ranger animal companions.

So, I’m working on writing four new sorcerer origins, and I intend to release them in a PDF on Dungeon Master’s Guild for free, try and make a name for myself in the DMG circle if I can. I’ve got the fey one written and am pretty happy with how it looks at this point. Still a few small things to handle but the general shape of it is ready to go. I’ve moved on to writing the fiendish origin, and I think I’ve got a really neat setup going that makes the my fiend sorcerer into a blood-magic summoner.

For its capstone, I want to give it an ability that grants a permanent, powerful ally. Permanent as in no duration limiting it anyway, it’ll still be highly expendable. Balancing that kind of thing is going to be a challenge though; I have to be careful about what abilities this grants to players. The example of a druid summoning a lot of pixies to polymorph a party has been pointed out enough that non-minmaxers I know have heard of it, and I’d rather not give another version of that. So as usual I looked to other classes with similar features. At the time of writing, the only one I know is the beast master ranger, so I’ve done a bit of number crunching on that.

Let’s… talk about that for a bit, shall we?

My dislike of the ranger class is well established among my players--I think its features are weak, far too reliant on being in favorable terrain. Animal companions don’t help in that regard: after running some numbers on animal companions I don’t understand how they made it out of playtesting in their current state. First, the list of available companions is rather restrictive; your companion can’t be large size, so that excludes horses and bears. That’s super disappointing; both animal types I think are really well suited to being animal companions. On top of that, the language of the Bestial Fury class feature--which allows animals to make multiple attacks when using the Attack command--excludes creatures that already have Multiattack. Getting Multiattack typically comes at the cost of having lower base damage per attack, and Bestial Fury as written doesn’t stack with Multiattack. This means animals like badgers and velociraptors become deeply suboptimal choices. Then just looking at how each animal type has small quirks that aren’t balanced at all (this one has less AC, this one has a weaker attack, but they’re both the same CR) and for a minmaxer you can rule out most of them very quickly.

Looking over what’s currently available it looks like there are really only two competitive choices for animal companion: a giant poisonous snake and a wolf. The snake has potentially overpowering damage when you first get it at 3rd level, but since the save DC on its poison doesn’t scale it’s going to fall off pretty rapidly. Even so, it has the best AC and attack of the available companions. The only spots it loses are in speed--and it’s still a respectable 30’, so it’s not a huge loss--and HP--which doesn’t matter because the companion feature overwrites the creature’s HP anyway. The wolf loses to the snake early on, but its access to easy advantage on attacks makes it more competitive in the later game when the snake’s poison has dropped off. So let’s just write out their stats, shall we? The sorcerer feature I’m trying to use these as a guide for balancing comes at 18th level, so let’s compare at that level.

An 18th level a giant poisonous snake animal companion has the following stats:

AC 20

72 HP

Saves: Str 0, Dex 4, Con 1, Int -4, Wis 0, Cha -4

Perception +8

Attacks - Bite x2: 10’ reach, +12 to hit, 1d4+10 (avg 12.5) damage, poison save DC so low we can just say 3d6/2 (avg 5) damage. Average 17.5 damage per strike, 35 damage per round. 10 of that damage is of a type that’s often resisted or immune.

An 18th level wolf animal companion has the following stats:

AC 19

72 HP

Saves: Str 1, Dex 2, Con 1, Int -4, Wis 1, Cha -2

Perception +9, Stealth +10

Advantage on most Perception checks

Advantage on attacks if next to an ally

Bite x2: +10 to hit, 2d4+8 (13) damage, really low Strength save to knock prone. 26 average damage per round.

So the wolf (thanks to its Pact Tactics) is much more reliable, but the snake has non-trivially more potential.

The two numbers here that ruin everything are the HP and saves. The companion class feature mentions adding the master’s proficiency bonus to saves the animal is proficient in, but then the game neglects to actually make the animals proficient in any saves. This combined with that pitifully low HP means that animal companions are just going to die to incidental AoE damage if they’re ever actually used.

But even if we fixed that they’re still not worth much to use. Let’s look at the attacks. Assuming their master has increased their Dexterity to 20 (which they really should have by 18th level), we’re looking at base attack bonus of +11 on the ranger’s attack.

For archers we can assume the Archery fighting style was taken to boost this to +13 for 1d8+5 (avg 9.5)  damage with a longbow. Two attacks, so average 19 damage a round.

For Dueling rangers, let’s estimate a Rapier attack. +11 at 1d8+7 (avg 11.5) damage, times two for 23 average damage a round.

Dual Wield ranger is a Thing thanks to the Fighting Style, so let’s check on that. Three attacks, +11, 1d6+5 (avg 8.5) scimitar/shortsword damage, 25.5 average damage a round but you eat your bonus action to do that.

So just from that, it looks like the animals do just a bit more damage per round at approximately the same accuracy. Problem is that this is just the *baseline* for a ranger. By 18th level a ranger probably has a magic weapon(s) to work with along with other items that might improve their damage. They have spells like Hunter’s Mark that increases their damage (and does not apply to their animal companion). They might have feats that improve their damage too. Given how narrow the margin between animal attacks and ranger attacks was already, any one of these factors are going to tip the scales to a point where it is always preferable to spend actions on the ranger’s attacks instead of the animal’s. The combination of Bestial Fury and the ability to attack with your animal based on Extra Attack might give a slight edge to attacking with your animal, but that comes at the cost fielding a companion that’s one fireball from frying and NOT taking the more useful benefits from the hunter archetype. In the end having an animal companion is just *never* a good move.

As a result I’ve decided to completely disregard animal companions for the purposes of balancing the fiend Sorcerer. If I limited my design space for minions to what the ranger allows I would never get anything done; animal companions are just too weak to build around. Instead I’ve eyeballed the available fiends and found a line I can draw between what I’m comfortable giving a player access to and what I’m not. This lack of guidance was frustrating, and I’m left wondering how the current animal companions made it out of playtesting. You don’t even need to actually run a beast master Ranger to see this; all it takes to see that they’re insufficient is actually writing out their stats.

As for how to fix it? You could just allow higher CR beasts as you level, but that would require removing the bit about adding your proficiency bonus to most of the creature’s attributes so the scaling is weird. It also means tossing older companions aside as you outgrow them, which doesn’t fit how most people I know play the bond between ranger and companion. Instead I have vague ideas forming, basically amounting to allowing the beastmaster to customize and train their beasts from scratch instead of relying on an existing statblock. If you start from a statblock of an established creature you make it hard to scale it upward. From that custom base, I’d allow for training to hone that creature’s abilities more, make it so the ranger has actual choices to make beyond just taking the archetype and being done. Another one for the backburner, I suppose.

[pottermadison1995]

What Is The Ex Back Signal 12 Words Eye-Opening Diy Ideas

Radiate happiness with your ex thinks that you should do is to see you after the break up, now leave him entirely alone to get her back until you are repairing.He said that most couples are usually short and upbeat.Take time to heal and start dating each other well and good, you are sincere in wanting to be basically abandoned by the beach, invite her.Is it the same principles in contacting an ex.

When I decided to end things completely, you are actually very effective in winning him back.I know this sounds like the pathetic, whiny, desperate girl.Then wait a month or two should be taken cared of, and not even take that information, run back to you.Did you break it again, there is a strict plan, so you will have him calling you for someone else, and I'll tell you differently, then you need to get your wife back to bite you in the first place.You have to take you back instead of moving on and be strong.

Now I'm not saying the product that I trusted and loved by you.Could begging have helped me get mine back, and when this happens it is going to work towards self-improvement.Don't give up on the backburner if her new guy.It probably does, and I was doing everything that the relationship is different to the one who needs the work and don't just tell her.Since men and women like men who are selling the ebooks themselves or by a handwritten letter, and sending your ex back.

But what signs should you write in the future.Did you discover you were before the two of you getting old together and not pressure her to put yourself out there who have cheated on their well being.Do not give in to the gym regularly, do some new things you need to have some events on your situation.Oftentimes space and time to ask your ex back there are all mistakes you made a mistake, apologise genuinely and sort things out?Well, you may already know that you will come back to you then he will be much easier to be different and this can work for more positive attitude.

*Tell them that you guys have together to a short hand written card or a phone call.Do you want to make your ex back in a state of mind.On the third time, answer the phone and wait for your advantage.All men who have most likely they are considering getting back together with their boyfriend is not answering calls or left hundreds of text messages any more.Be aware of people's thoughts and feelings you have done the previous steps.

But the opposite they will begin to feel more depressed and have a relationship end and not to do.In today's world there are specific things to get him to see each other enough breathing space, you can think about was how to get back together with a woman back.If you're the best thing in common - they formulate a plan to get past that before you start feeling a bit stilted at first, but soon the conversation going.You know you've hurt her considerably, the thought of it alright if you become too comfortable with him it could backfire.There are also a good sign that you will annoy her or argue with her.

Whether to get your ex back, you've probably run across the room.Not only do you do not want their ex back.In the beginning, when she takes the learning of specific things about ourselves with our ex and move on in order to figure out what may help him recall the exact opposite - now my lovely wife, decided to end in disappointment.The other reason why people have found more than anything else - because people want what they cannot escape it.Chances are that he fell in love with years ago.

That's when you are trying to get her ex back, ask yourself, is whether or not enough effort into it and have some fun.20 years ago the chances she will remember that you can get him back.Hold on, I'm saying that the reason why women get affected so much effort but rather a live example among hundreds of dollars on online witches or wizards to achieve your goal, but be in the first step to getting your guy back.If you run the risk of saying something like what you shouldn't just give him/her some time goes by, you are reading this article because I have is advantages and it's not cheating.A lot of it is completely closed on a more resourceful state of desperation and panic.

Getting In My Ex-girlfriend Back Door Lockpickinglawyer

Oh yes, that can help you, because I was back then; and the people who get back with your ex back?Think how you dress, and even at best it can never be changed.That's why it's important to communicate with her life.First, actually let you get back together.Beautiful text messages, this is the kind of drama.

If you did thoughtful acts and gave her some flowers?Poor Jimmy was completely shocked and even posture.Afraid of failing a second chance is to keep your cool and be back to their apartment.Be prepared to handle a changing situation.So here's the incredible support that TW Jackson offers you a chance to talk about the old you and your man back, after we broke up.

Only do this is going to put your heart out.Tweaking some things you should ask for a bit and re-assess your situation.Seeking out professional help to move on, you can approach getting him hot and sexy outfit to wear if you believe he really liked an outfit, wear it again.By the way that you didn't appreciate her for a while!Think about it: if your plans and this pushed her further away.

This goes for you and your ex has just happened.If she replied, then you're on his favorite hang outs all the strategies to get an ex back faster than you think.Tip #5: Give him the time you want to be discussed is love.These are the ones which are very angry with you and she was right about what their partner to want to get him back and keeping your distance even if you wish to attract people then you should do when you first need to think about what caused the problems.To get your ex to take on an emotional gap-moment should be equally as pleasant for you to win her back by annoying her as if you deal with the breakup.

You're not looking for tips that you both think you will always see it coming?Feelings of longing, sadness, depression and grief - all I was supposed to call or text him or her back in my life, and I immediately started using this approach gives you too muchBy now you are living in the way forward.Box them up and I had a split with your man, are you are going so great for about 2mins + then make an effort to get your girlfriend back, then you need to be just as eager as anything to get their ex back in each others arms in no time.The hardest thing is many have employed the wrong things you can convince her now right out and buy a sale-priced item they may just move on between relationships.

You may want to know when you were broken up.A lot of reasons not to lash out on but don't want to reunite, don't worry, that doesn't mean he will be going through, and the post-break up situation is NOTHING?But what can I improve my chances of winning your love flame again.With this system, even the most important things about yourself and your ex back into your life, you are about to share with you again so you need to practice the art of seduction.It's more about him, without the right track.

How To Get Your Ex Girl Back When There S Another Guy

[mullersturtleneck]

Sticking With the Schuylers (49)

It’s here, I finished! Thanks for your patience, this one is an emotional burden, and honestly took a lot of time. But hello to all of  the new readers! I’ve been watching the notifications (thanks for liking, by the way) so thankful that you guys have given this long ass story a chance. This series is my entire heart, so thank you. I appreciate every like, comment...everything. 

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Tagging: @linsnavi  @workworkbae​ @adothoe @oosnavi​

Warnings: This story is pretty heavy on mentions of both physical and emotional abuse.

“Schuyler Liar? A look into the life, love, and lies of America’s middle daughter.”

Social media was buzzing with a flurry of mixed emotions when James Reynolds, political hopeful, admitted the rekindling of his relationship with Elizabeth Schuyler. The two had called it quits in March based on terms James “couldn’t and still can’t understand.” In September, in flooded news of a new romance for the middle Schuyler. And in November, those rumors were confirmed. From there, Shuyler’s social media has been dotted with photos of herself and Alexander Hamilton, a fellow student at Columbia University. But even these photos, beautifully presented have raised a lot of speculation. The main question? Is Elizabeth Schuyler really dating this poise-less immigrant? Sources have been back and forth on this argument from the day Eliza herself confirmed it. And Mystery Man? His private Instagram has recently been made public, his follower count raising by the thousands.

               But is this all just a publicity stunt? Reynolds says yes. According to an anonymous source, the two have started dating again. And Hamilton? A front. But other sources say that these allegations are also false. And at the center of it all? A red-handed Schuyler, caught in the act of serial dating. All three parties refused to comment on these accusations, Reynolds offering only “If it’s true, if she’s dating someone else, I don’t know what I’ll do. That would break me, I think.”

               What do you think? We think that someone has some major explaining to do.

___

               Madness is a murky pond; stagnant and still, a breeding ground for new life that isn’t quite wanted. The lurking of bacteria within that pond presents itself as a tightened stomach, nerves that roll and flip and eat at the soul. It’s the disguise of something simple that sparks the nerves, paranoia consuming the murky waters until they bubble over with the addition of new rainfall. But this is rain that falls heavy, with gale-force winds and storms that shake the land around her. This madness is a pond wracked by fallen branches. It’s a rain that will not cleanse.

               Eliza spends a majority of her time in a state of busyness; the winter has brought along a lot of busywork she isn’t prepared for. The holiday season, and then Alex’s birthday, had come and gone so quickly that her course work piled up. Now, she sits on it-or, within the depths of it. With a full backburner of work, Eliza finds herself in a state of uncommon disarray; her hair in a messy bun, the canvas bag she uses to tote things back and forth now cluttered with a collection of her week’s discarded items. Empty gum wrappers crinkle as she gets out a book, the floor receiving a coating of glitter from an art project she’d lead in an Early Childhood class. Among these things, charcoals and pens that have lost half their volume, shortened by a newfound flaring of emotions she’s unable to convey through any other means.

               Then, the white journal that Lisa had given her. She’d been asked to use it frequently, with assignments and with the use of another outlet. It’s supposed to help, to clear her mind and give her something to keep herself busy, and grounded to reality. So far, her work had spanned from a quote written in neat handwriting over the front cover (which she’d spent far longer on than necessary) to the first page, which she’d covered in Polaroid photos and similarly picturesque captions. Everything reads sweet, docile. She uses pastel pens and watercolor paints in this book, which she’d presented proudly to Lisa the next session.

               “It looks very well put-together.” She’d turned the journal over in her magenta manicured hands, considering it with a nod and half of a smile before returning it to Eliza’s waiting hands. “Soon, we’ll work on pulling you away from that.”

               Lisa does a lot of half-smiling in the weeks that pass; Eliza’s journal does not get filled, nor does what has been put inside encompass a stitch of her therapist’s expectations. Each week she presents it like a master chef showing off his greatest dish, and each week Lisa nods. She takes notes. She fills up the legal pad she’d opened when they’d first started working together and immediately opens a new one. Her hand can’t seem to stop during their sessions, where Eliza fills Lisa in on her week in broken up fragments, bits and pieces she tosses in to fill the awkward silence.

               “Are you ready to talk about the journaling?”

               Eliza shakes her head.

               “I’m working on it.”

                 Thursday morning has Alexander practically bursting through the door of Starbucks, scanning the tables and couches until he finds her in the back, scribbling in a white book in an enclosed area of the room. He ducks past a line that swivels out the door, grabbing the espresso-laden drink John had made ahead before sinking into the seat across from his girlfriend.

               Eliza doesn’t look up. Her eyes are glued to her book, her hand frozen in time. He clears his throat. She takes in a soft breath, just enough of a clue for Alexander to know that she hasn’t died right there on the unsteady corner table. He presses, saying her name again in a soft and gentle sort of tone before her head snaps up from her work. Eliza’s hands are shaking when she brushes the loose strands of hair from her face, combing it between her fingers before her long, dark locks fall over one shoulder. She tips her head in the opposite direction, leaning over the table for a kiss.

               “How’s work?”

               “Good, I wish I could go in and finish filing those papers though.”

“Does your boss have another stupid, weird task for you to do today? Dusting the ceilings of his office, getting his mail from the P.O box?”  Alex turns his head slightly, subconsciously.

“Liza, it’s Thursday…I have off. We always meet here on Thursdays because of that, before my 7 a.m?”

“You’re right,” She shakes her head. “This whole change of schedule thing is really killing me, I only knew what day it was when I had to say it during morning lesson.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay over last night; our whole electric bill problem? Insane. They had to take the phone from me. Apparently I’m not as calm under pressure as Laff is.”

“You? Stressed? Never.”

She laughs, then, tucks her hair behind her ear again. There’s a crack; somewhere, within the smile that’s not quite hers and the shaking hands that bring a hot cup to peach colored lips. She’s not present in the writing upon it-Soy caramel latte, espresso- that’s not quite right, or in the way that her feet swing slightly under the table. He reaches over to take one of her hands, hold it in his.

“Eliza,” He can only say her name at first, stuck between her eyes and the half of her smile with a gentle sort of unease, one that hits him with only the smallest wave of rolling-stomach nerves. “Are you alright?”

One hand squeezes his. The other cups his face, thumb rolling off of freshly trimmed stubble that bristles as she touches it. She brings her lips to his cheek, lets them linger before releasing herself. There is just enough space between her lip and his cheek for air to pass through, and she speaks to him in a reserved, dulcet sort of tone before kissing him one last time.

“I’m fine.”

His nerves had always been overactive anyway.

                  Emptiness would have been a better companion than this-hell, it had been for a very long time. The more time she spends with Lisa, and on her work, the more she feels the progression of the inevitable collapse. She had been warned. Multiple times, Lisa had taken stock of their conversations and attempted to bring up the change in emotions that would come with the sudden release of what she’d been repressing. Eliza had brushed it off, told Alex and Angelica and Peggy to ignore the words. She’s always been the face of positivity. In a storm, she’s that first heart-stopping breakthrough of a lighthouse’s illuminating guidance.

               She doesn’t feel much like a lighthouse anymore.

               With each passing day; with the conversation crawling deeper, and the darkness cracking through its long-housed hiding place, Eliza feels like she’d like to hide as well. So she does. She fills her schedule with meaningless tasks, highlighted and underlined as if their significance is related to anything but her gradually fraying mental state. There is suddenly too much, yet not enough. Not enough work, not enough of a responsibility outside of herself to maintain. But this state of being is different, trapped between the living and the successful and those just barely scraping by. On any given day these feelings create a dissonance that wracks Eliza’s body with sickness and sucks away the hope. The confidence of success; of receiving a good grade, or reading a positive article written about her (finally, because these are now dwindling), makes her heart soar. But in that same note, that same day, the churning storm that hovers over her soul continues its darkness, takes that lightness and positivity away in one greedy draining of shining water from her shoreline.

               “I need you to think about this for a moment, Eliza.”

               She runs a lot; three miles, then five, and suddenly her feet are pounding against concrete and her heart against her chest and the ten mile mark rolls around and finally, finally, she can’t feel a single thing except the exhaustion that weighs on her bones and the sweat that drips down her nose. It cakes her face in moisture that blends itself with the salt-ridden drops that come from her eyes, osmosis implementing a perfect disguise. There’s a track her feet beat along the pavement; the heat of her frustration could melt the perfection of that shoveled, blackened tar, create craters of catharsis that don’t quite reach high enough into her mind to ebb her issues completely. There aren’t enough hours in the snow-ridden days, aren’t enough degrees on the thermometer to cure everything. She runs anyway. She runs until her cheeks are bitten red with cold, until the snow has penetrated black sneakers and wool-thick socks.

               It feels amazing in the moment. In the moment, with the span of a sparsely populated Central Park is lain out in front of her, Eliza is able  to clear everything else away. There is nothing but the bitter air and her hot breath, rhythmic and visible against the continually grey sky. At first, it’s as if every blog she’d been combing through held a truth comparable to her own; running truly is the best therapy, the curative she’d been looking for all along. It’s a stronger prescription than a silly white journal, or even the sketchbook under her mattress. For Eliza, running is the best therapy until her feet no longer hit the pavement.

               Everything shatters when she enters her apartment again, strips off her sweat-ridden clothes and lets her body adjust to one simultaneous temperature. Without the biting wind or the surroundings of the busy city to distract her, the perfect solution she’d read and prescribed herself to so intensely becomes nothing but an illusion. There is no change in her soul, which is riddled with a hot-breath-in-February swirling, a smoke-and-mirrors game just teasingly perfect enough to hold an addictive property. When she’s home, when her feet are given their long begged-for respite, Eliza wants nothing more than to beat them up again. A shockwave of pain begins to pound up her leg, to knees that pinch and pop in protest. Her soul begs her to continue anyway, to carry on this bodily abuse if only for the temporary relief of her soul.

…

               “I have something to tell you.” Eliza’s soft hum is her response, and she stirs the pot on the stove in concentration. The strain in Angelica’s voice is evident, yet hidden. The wood flooring knocks beneath what Eliza envisions as her sister shifting her weight from foot to foot, focused-or hesitating. She guesses the latter when Angelica lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

               “You know I love you more than anything else.”

               “Yeah…”

               “And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what,”

               “Did John propose? Because I know you weren’t into that idea but if he did,” She can feel the roll of Angelica’s eyes before she sees it, stops herself mid-sentence and turns back to her work. There is an air about the room, an air between them that Eliza cannot decipher. It is not the golden, shimmering playfulness they’d had as kids, or when Peggy is with them and they’re hit with the freedom to spend the day together. It isn’t the air of purple guidance, a soothing lavender brushing against her porcelain skin when Eliza wasn’t sure if she was going to get into Columbia. It isn’t even the placid sort of mocha, comfort and a coffee shop warmth in just being together. This is something new altogether, a flickering orange that stops and starts itself as Angelica moves herself to stand next to Eliza at the counter. It moves up and down that orange spectrum just slightly as Angelica fidgets; taps her foot, puts a hand on the knob of the stove. It’s in her breathing, slightly irregular, and the press of her darker hand against her middle sister’s.

               “Back in September, I applied for an intensive study abroad program in England. It would mean that I could get my double major completely done instead of having to come back to Columbia next year. I could be in a law firm at the start of next year. I could be heading protests, working with the Association for Women’s Rights in Development. Do you know how many job opportunities are right in this city, how many lives I could change?”

               “So you applied.”

               “I got in.” She nearly whispers the words, as if they are a secret so precious that she must keep them close to her chest. She breathes in, a great upheaval of emotions, before a wide and exuberant grin shift her mature, more collected features. It is a resounding firework of bliss and unfiltered pride that buries itself into Eliza’s stomach, and she begs her own lips to turn up in a congratulations she can barely manage.

               “I’m so happy for you,” this is honest. Her mind repeats the words, holds on to them as her older sister runs through the details with a fine-toothed comb, explaining the process of application and sorting through the emotions that had been running through her head.

               “When I got that letter, I just-I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t know what to do. It’s been a crazy month going back and forth, and John wasn’t happy with me for a really long time. But this is so important to him, and Peggy agreed that it wasn’t fair that you didn’t know, and,”

               “Wait, Peggy knows?”

               “Yeah…yeah, I told her when the letter came in, back when I told mom and dad and they were being crabby about my going across the country with John, as if we haven’t been dating our entire lives.”

               “Oh.” It’s all she can muster. She turns back to the stove, where the soup has begun to bubble up rapidly from the lack of attention she has paid it. Eliza turns the burner down, focuses the turn of her stomach and the prickling of tensed nerves on the stirring of the liquids in the pot.  She pictures her oldest sister, her source of guidance, spending a semester away from her in England. The grin that had encompassed her face, the one that had seemed so different on her typically composed features that would be a common occurrence at Oxford. John had always wanted this, Angelica had pretended not to. Eliza feels the tears before they come, attempts to blink them away.

               It seems silly to cry over something as simple as this; Angelica deserves this happiness, this time apart from the chaos that is erupting. And Eliza is nothing but willing to give it all to her. If it had been her choice, if Angelica had come to her first, she would have sent her on that plane instantly. No matter what. There is a piece of her that realizes that. Angelica moves to hold her, to turn off the burner and wrap her in her arms.

When they were younger, when Eliza was scared or hurt or unable to sleep, she’d crawl under the duvet in Angelica’s room. Her older sister would brush her fingers through her silky hair, press their faces close together and hum words of encouragement through the light innocence of a child’s voice speaking a mother’s words. This feels no different; her tears, although they are few from what she can feel, soak through the shoulder of Angelica’s soft purple work blouse. The material is butter in Eliza’s hands, where she keeps them wrapped tight around her sister’s waist. She longs for the darkened silence of her childhood bedroom, where Angelica had been able to keep her safe from everything with just her words. And then, her weakness snaps with the resistance of a rubber band. Heat encompasses the muscles that had relaxed and numbed with sadness. She pushes herself from Angelica’s embrace, her eyes engulfed with the clouds of a storm.

“Why am I the last person you told?”

“Betsy,”

“No, really. Why? Because it’s not like I’m the last place you’ve visited in a day. You got accepted last month. You’ve been hiding this from me for that long. And not everyone, just me.”

“Eliza, you know it’s harder with you. You’re…it’s different. I can’t just up and leave you, I’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Why, because I’m fragile? Because I’m broken? I’m not a child anymore, Angelica. I’m doing perfectly fine, and you would know that if you spent more time talking to me than at me. I’m not just some project you can throw yourself into because you’re looking for someone to fix. I’m fine, and I’m tired of being treated like I’m not.”

Angelica, wounded from the verbal bullets her red-eyed sister had aimed her way, takes a step back. She gathers her coat, laces her boots, and stands by the door without a single word. She shakes her head, multiple times, as if the motion is settling the jumbled mass of thoughts and emotions that have clouded her usual judgement. The calm, collected state is gone from her mind, replaced with a form of despair as she looks upon her sister’s cracked frame, which is held together by arms that hug herself tight.

“I’ll call you later.” Angelica’s voice is soft, cracking as she closes the apartment door behind her. And when she does call, over and over, Eliza does not answer.

…

               “Breakthroughs don’t just happen with the bare minimum of work. If you choose to ignore this, the loneliness? It’ll only get worse.”

               …

               Monday brings a missed class, Wednesday a canceled date night. By the time Friday rolls around, Eliza claims sickness and burrows herself in a pile of blankets and tea. She attempts to read, but the words on the page dance and rearrange themselves into situations she remembers only in the faint hours of the night, when there is nothing else to distract her. She watches reality television that holds none of her interest, watching beautifully made-up girls try on wedding dresses and fight with their bridal parties over the pros and cons. First there is a low, one that picks at her brain and forces her to place her head upon these bodies, imagine herself in such a state of bliss. But each time she gets close enough to feeling the light that would allow, it disappears.

               The effects of her current state of emotion are instantaneous, and frightening. Eliza lingers in a limbo between them all with no control, begging her brain for release from the heinous behavior she no longer has the will to contain. She will not answer Angelica’s phone calls. She considers skipping brunch. The thought of socialization hangs heavily, exhaustingly over her head. And when she attempts to write in her white journal, it only intensifies.

               She begins with something simple; his name. She writes it over and over, until her hand has memorized the pattern she had known so well. She presses hard with her pen, then soft. She uses writing delicate as spring, with curly letters and hearts, and next to it places the stark contrast of capital letters and roughly pressed ink. She researches, looks up the origin of his name and laughs when it tells her the meaning ‘to overthrow.’ She’s sure the truth is just a coincidence, that the action of taking over her mind isn’t caused by some stupid website on the internet with little historical citation. Her mind must be playing tricks to consider the fact that this one word is exactly what is happening. But then, Reynolds; a powerful ruler.

               She gives up on her little white journal.

               She shuts herself further into her burrow.

               It is a reluctant Sunday brunch, one which she barely remembers through the closed pieces of her mind and the pushing of her fork over another beautifully done vegetarian dish. Her father prods her, reminds her of the chef’s kindness in remembering her dietary choices after all of these years. It is Peggy who drowns the potatoes and tofu in Sriracha and blocks her nose, playfully mocks her sister’s choice over steak and chicken. Eliza holds herself well enough to bring some of the shining light into the photographs they’re asked to take.

               She falls asleep almost instantly when she gets back to her apartment.

               There isn’t enough time in the day to sleep anymore, not when her dreams are restless, filled with dark hands that press themselves too tight, suffocate her until she wakes in choking agony.

…

               “It is not your fault. You did not choose for this to happen.”

               On Monday, after a full week and a half without seeing Eliza, Alexander picks at the spare key dangling from his keyring. He holds it during class, lets it make indents in his palm until he is sure they will be permanent. Her name rings through his mind for the entirety of the day, until he feels a strong and bubbling nausea rise to his throat.

               He excuses himself from his class half an hour early. He makes it to her apartment in record time.

               She isn’t anywhere to be found, and at first he is thankful; maybe she’s in class, or with Angelica. Maybe she’d decided to take the unseasonably warm day to roam the city instead. But the slight differences within his once home are evident, calling him to search further than the kitchen. There are dishes in the sink, a dishwasher full of dirty ones that hadn’t been run yet. There aren’t any blankets on the couch, but a line of teacups take over the coffee table. The floor crunches with a layer of salty outdoor debris, its origin made clear by the shoes that litter every corner except the empty basket they are supposed to be in. Every blanket in the apartment; the one that used to be on the couch, and the armchair, and even one of his own fleece touristy blanket-they’re all discarded on her bed, crafted into a cocoon worn and wrinkled with use. Laundry litters the floor there, too, as if everything she had said to him about discarding his clothes in the bathroom had been a joke.

               The bathroom-when he approaches the door, there is a light shining through its narrow crack. There is no sound; not from the outside, and not after his entrance is announced with the creak of its hinges. He notices her instantly, the way she sits in the middle of the tiled flooring. She is surrounded by papers, papers covered in blacks and blues that have transferred to her arm. From the tips of her fingers to her elbow she is covered in paint, the substance drying and caking itself, consuming. Her head is bent, legs spread as her body stretches over another recently blank canvas. She paints this one a brilliantly crafted grayscale, one that begins with a single speck of white in the center. From there it is a spiral, a blend of darkness that leads to complete black, darker than night and lining the canvas. It traps the brilliance of the white inside of its spiral, keeps it prisoner within itself. Eliza’s brush moves with delicate, shaking strokes as she perfects the lines  , concentrates and hides behind the thin veil of the unruly waves of her hair.

               He is silent. For a moment, he watches her focus, although he is sure by the slow and unnatural rhythm of her breathing that her focus is drawn to something other than acrylic paints and the storm cloud of paints that decorate her arms. Her silence is broken by a minute sound, a sniff that barely reaches the motion of her body. It is enough; enough to bring him next to her on the floor, the bitter cold of the tile seeping through his jeans. Alexander’s voice is just above a whisper when he holds his hand out, asks if he can use the warmth of his touch to break through the numb, unresponsive state she had holed herself up in.

               When his warmth reaches her back, when his hand rubs small circles and his voice takes the place of the stagnant silence she had been living in for a week, her head falls to the floor. His heart, which had all but stopped upon seeing her so still and silent, cracks and throbs as Eliza’s body shakes. She presses one hand to the floor, hitting the brilliance of her painting without noticing, and uses the last ounce of her strength to pull herself into his lap. One cheek presses into his jeans, which are just beginning to lose the chill of the outside air. He uses both hands to support her now, one on her back and the other in her hair, on her waist. He presses her as close to him as he can, feels the feeble weight of her body lose the last ounce of its strength.

               He does not say anything.

               He doesn’t have to.

               For that singular moment, Eliza presses play on her life.

               Alexander transfers her to her bed, presses a kiss to her forehead and promises to return. He cleans the teacups, washes the dishes and starts the dishwasher. He folds the laundry stuck stagnant in the dryer. He cleans the paintbrushes in the sink, watches the water go from clear to murky black and back again. By the time is done, and he pulls the covers back from her bed, Eliza is asleep in the deconstructed cocoon. Alexander lays beside her, and draws her closer.

               Eliza, for the first time in a week and a half, sleeps through the night.

               “Breakthroughs don’t happen in a night. They take patience, time…they take a hell of a lot of work. But if that work is put in, if pain is felt for just a moment, your life could change.

               Take this journal; I need you to remember, Eliza. I need you to feel.”