#the mote in god's eye

[chernobog13]

This is the Matt Jefferies-designed ship that AMT used to expand their initial Star Trek line of models in the mid-1960s.

The Leif Ericson didn't sell very well, and the entire Star Trek line was soon discontinued. However, the model did find fans in renowned science fiction authors Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. They liked it so much they used it as the basis for the INSS MacArthur in their magnum opus The Mote in God's Eye.

[alphamecha-mkii]

The Mote in God's Eye Cover Art by Fred Gambino

[art-of-illlustration]

The Mote in God's Eye, 1977

[grayrazor]

A lot of bad "humans are space orcs"/"humanity fuck yeah!" web fanfiction intentionally or unintentionally imitates Niven, but the guy himself was pretty good at avoiding the worst cliches. Every "enemy" species is less inferior to humanity and more a sidegrade with different strengths and weaknesses.

Slavers and Kzin are stronger and faster than humans, but kinda stupid. Fithp are good strategists, but are unprepared for the concept of “revenge.” Moties and Pak are super smart, but can never accomplish anything as a civilization because they’re so warlike.

[that-dinopunk-guy]

I bought more paperbacks.

(Also I got the Peter F. Hamilton books entirely based on enjoying Pandora's Star like twenty years ago and completely managed to not realize there's another book between The Dreaming Void and The Evolutionary Void.)

[a-queer-little-wombat]

Hand one: Hell yes. Please.

Hand two: in the era of going to the sanatorium for 4-5 months, sanatoria were out of reach for the vast majority of people. Most people worked 6+ days of the week, and only the affluent went to a sanatorium for any length of time. We just don't have a lot of books written about the average person.

Hand gripping: these days the income inequity in the US (and the UK, I suspect) is *even larger*, so now the merely affluent can't do it either. The 1% rich folks, tho? Totally can go to a resort/retreat/private island any time they want for as long as they want.

My deepest darkest fantasy is that I collapse on the street and I am rushed to the hospital. They perform a bunch of tests and find out I am severely deficient in some kind of vitamin. Then I start taking the vitamin and I become the happiest cleverest person alive because all my problems were caused by this one deficiency

[necarion]

I've been thinking of ideas for a Mote in God's Eye TV adaptation, and one of the weird problems is that the book has a very interesting character who's a cut-throat merchant, heavily implicated in a major political revolt. He's a fun character and you absolutely need him in any adaptation.

He is also a 1970s stereotype of an Arab trader. He says "beard of the Prophet!" a lot and thinks "by Allah!" when stuff goes wrong. He's semi-atheist, but he has weird scoffing toward non-Muslims.

And it creates a weird representation problem. You don't want to have the dominant character of that culture be a racist stereotype. And even if you make one of the other characters Muslim, this guy will be pretty central and the stereotype unavoidable. (For a parallel, imagine a slightly sleazy Jewish merchant/banker.)

But, if you strip him of his culture, you're doing a sort of uncomfortable whitewashing of a potentially interesting character.

I think the solution you'd take is to whitewash the guy, but take another reasonably prominent character (like the first officer, or the funny ship's pilot) and make them Muslim instead. And you can even make them rather more devout, and just have it be a thing in the world that there are Muslim people. (I'm a big fan of representation-by-"not a big deal".)

This is one of those problems a bunch of adaptations have, when they're adapting racist stuff from the past. Iron Man had to figure out what to do with the Mandarin, because it's hard to play that not-racist. I think their choice was a decent one, to have Ben Kingsley play a character who's pretending to be the Mandarin.

I think audiences, even the more extreme social justice lefty types, would probably be okay with "there really wasn't a way to make this character not-racist, but we're giving you an equivalently-interesting character".

[paulgadzikowski]

[Image description: Preview panel for the comic strip at the link below. Several Motie Masters from The Mote In God’s Eye and The Gripping Hand look on as a Mediator makes an entry on a pocket computer and speaks to Governor Renner. The Doctor, half human on his mother’s side incarnation, is there. The Mediator is saying, “Governor Renner, on behalf of the new United Mote System Confederacy, I accept full membership in the Empire of Humanity and Motie.” Unfortunately there are not image descriptions at the main Hero Of Three Faces site. End description.] 

The Hero of Three Faces is fanfiction crossovers, but it’s comic strips with stick figures, but they’re triangles. Preview panel only. Click here for full cartoon. Or see the on-site navigation tutorial. Or see this blog’s FAQ, or my archive tumblog’s FAQ. Cartoons may contain unmarked spoilers. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 10:00 (Central US time) daily are the previous day’s new update and the posts are pinned to the top of this blog. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 22:00 daily are from the archive and the posts are pinned only during annual summer hiatus of new updates.

Thanks for reading.

[billlaotian]

[longwayhome-laststop]

"YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED," THEY TOLD HIM. "NO ONE CAN."

TO WHICH THE THIEF REPLIED, "I HAVE A YEAR NOW THAT I DIDN'T HAVE BEFORE, AND A LOT OF THINGS CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. THE KING MIGHT DIE, THE HORSE MIGHT DIE, I MIGHT DIE... AND WHO KNOWS? MAYBE THE HORSE WILL SING."

[DAY 31]

Given how difficult it's been to find a librarian, I'm hard-pressed to believe that anyone on this planet is literate.

Luckily, I don't actually need the book I'm looking for, although it would be a massive boon to have. Mostly I just needed something to do that's not farming. Plants grow quickly in the outpost, I think that golden flower has something to do with it, so I'm not exactly strapped for food.

I am strapped for air, though—not an entirely unanticipated challenge, but I'm going through respirators much faster than I'd like. Safe places with altitudes low enough to breath comfortably are few and far between... another point deducted from the overworld, another point granted to the strange lush ruins I've made a home in.

The Freydis is still out of range; I've made my own company in the creatures that live up here, though I still don't know their proper names. Cod and Salmon remain, though Salmon now carries the feather of a very large, bright bird I've tamed. (They still have not eaten the fish I gave them.) The small bird does not have a name yet, nor does the large one. I have Bert and Ernie now, who are... clams... I think. They climb the walls and ceilings of the ruins and hide when I get close.

I should probably domesticate animals I can farm, but an underground outpost isn't very conductive toward that. The only creature of any real use at the moment is the large bird, who let me saddle her and takes directions well enough that I'm not afraid to fly with her. I still hate how vast the sky is here, but I have to admit it's a convenient way to travel. There's also no way I would have otherwise found the massive floating island I sit on now—let alone been able to get up to it.

There aren't any librarians up here either, at least not that I've seen, but I don't mind exploring. At least so long as my respirator holds. The whole reason I'm this far outside of the designated area if because I need to find a librarian that has some idea how to make this thing last longer.

Lack of contact from the Freydis has me a bit wired, too. Sent a message yesterday and it bounced. Trying not to think about it. May be that they've already started surveying at the other pole, they'll circle around soon enough.

[remma-demma]

My new online math class is set up sooooooooooo badly. It’s on a fucking forum, it’s all nested links to the textbook and we’re skipping things and going back and doing other things and the only actual instruction is coming from a collection of five different calculus men on YouTube.

It's an accelerated course so I fucking guess we have to have gone onto week three stuff even though it's only week 2 but he didn't TELL us that.

The videos don't even cover everything. I'm coming across an assignment and am literally like WHERE IS THAT INFORMATION EVEN. WHEN DID WE LEARN THIS. (it's hidden behind three links but i won't tell you which ones tee hee) fuck off.

hell.

[team-frightfur]

🌸

A+. This pic tastes like jasmine tea (because to me nostalgia tastes like jasmine). I guess it also looks like its been dipped in tea to make it sepia or something. Prolly smells like my childhood too. Hngh. Where's that bitchass duck?

flowers

[grayrazor]

Non-Star Trek books that are kind of Star Trek-like (quality not guaranteed)

Spaceship finds a weird object/alien civilization:

Rendezvous With Rama

The Mote in God’s Eye

The Invincible

Blindsight

Utopian interplanetary society:

3001: The Final Odyssey

The Culture Series

The Hainish Cycle

Contact

Napoleonic Navy in Space:

Lensman

Legend of the Galactic Heroes

Honor Harrington

John Grimes

[shouyuus]

okay so what about vi as a parent…

send me vi thirsts and i'll give u my hand in marriage

OKAYYYYYYYY LOOK. we are tryna hURT today huh. no alright tho like it would depend on the kid. i deeply believe that vi as a girl!mom vs a boy!mom would be SO dif. (girl!mom vi under the cut)

bc like consider. boy!mom vi - always down to toss a ball around, always down to play wrestle and get down and dirty, gets too carried away playing all the time, youve DEF come home to the house just like an absolute WRECK of feathers and cut up paper and like the bedsheets stripped and flung over the dining chairs, ur son standing on top of the dining table as vi pretends to be "breaching the fortress" and they both freeze when you clear ur throat like "uhm... what's this now?"

vi looks at you with those big athena eyes of hers like "oH! welcome back baby! uh this is --" and ur son leaps down and throws himself at ur waist like, "momma said that if we take the bedsheets we can make a castle and a mote!" and vi glares but withers a little when you hitch an eyebrow in her direction "she DID, did she?"

"she also said that REAL knights definitely use rolling pins as -"

"OKAY kiddo -- ahaha, what did i say about spilling national secrets hm?"

ur son just looks confused for a second, swinging off your arm, "but -- but you said mummy's the princess and all this is for her!"

vi sputters for a solid three seconds before sighing and you laugh, picking up your son and pressing a kiss to his cheek, "aww, so this is all for me?" he giggles, nodding, throwing his arms around your neck.

vi chuckles, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of her neck.

"yep!" your son pulls back with a bright grin, "momma said that because we both love you most, we have to protect you with all our mights!"

you laugh, softening as you put your son down. "she said that, did she?" he nods fervently even as vi groans, running a hand over her face, her cheeks a deep maroon.

"well, since you both love me so much -- you wouldn't mind helping clean up the castle before the evening feast, would you?"

"feast?" they both look up, eyes bright.

you hold up the large bag of takeout and they both whoop, vi tugging you in for a long kiss, laughing when she pulls away.

"y'know. you really are... everything."

---

BUT NOW CONSIDER. girl!mom vi. who would be sweetest, most protective, bc you've seen her as a big sister to basically all the kids in zaun, and her own daughter???? she'd do anything for her. to the point where you sometimes have to remind her not to be too much, to let your daughter stumble sometimes, to make mistakes bc that's how you learn.

"but -- god. i'm just so terrified --"

"yeah, welcome to being a parent," you say, nosing into her cheek one night as you watch your daughter sleep, curled up on the bed between the pair of you, snoring slightly as she sleeps.

vi reaches down to run a hand through her hair, curling a strand around a finger, her eyes so soft it almost breaks your heart.

"yeah i know but..." vi's voice is tender, " thought having a little sister was bad..."

you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to vi's cheek.

"let's not jinx this."

vi's lips twitch, but her gaze stays warm. she pulls you into her side.

"you're gonna have to tie me up in the basement once she starts dating."

you snort, "tie you up? please. i'll have to call in favors with both jayce and mel -- maybe they've got something stocked up that'll keep you restrained but i know ropes aren't gonna do jack shit."

vi chuckles before her expression changes.

"promise me... things will be okay."

"hey -- look at me." you cup her cheek; she turns, her eyes a thunder-struck sea, the edge of the world on a rainy day.

"it'll be okay," you say, pressing your foreheads.

"thanks, cupcake. i love you."

you smile, tugging vi in for a kiss.

"yeah. i know. i love you too."

[tragedybunny]

My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

[paulgadzikowski]

There are "pocket computers" in The Mote in God's Eye (Niven & Pournelle 1974)

How did almost zero futuristic sci fi settings ever predict that we would all have a little pocket computer that we could access information and media with, it seems like the easiest possible conclusion to draw from even just the transition between movie theaters and television