#whishts

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[clochanamarch]

another irish colloquial phrase that i'm about to use is "they can't hold the steam of their own piss" and it just refers to someone who can't hold on to a secret or like, any bit of information at all! for example, at christmas time, my mam would say "blue you can't even hold the steam of your own piss" because i'd be trying to give her the christmas present months before christmas day. so it sounds ??? but it's. it's a thing we say in my county at least--

[lilac-den]

What is the land of Sylphina called, and what is the name of their residence if MC lives with them? I got a sense that it'll be very fancy name, so I'm curious about this too: does ROs live with their parents? Or they live alone?

The land Sylphina owns is called Angilia (An-gee-lee-ah)

As for the name of the residence - if you mean the manor house, it's 'Rotwood Manor'. It was named by the home owner when the lands weren't as fruitful and bountiful as it is now during the era when the empire still ruled and the kingdom had yet to be founded.

As for the ROs:

Maverick has kicked his parents out of the residence. Or more specifically, he has sent them away to two different summer homes under the Whisht name - nothing too grand or fancy, just enough for a noble to stay in. He doesn't send them allowances nor do his parents ever reach out for anything other than money and/or greedy intentions. His parents are more occupied with their affair partner(s) for the time being though, so Maverick has peace and quiet for a time.

Rydigan still lives with his family, but he tends to go out quite a bit. He tries not to stay out too late or, if there's no choice, he tries to let his family know by sending a bird with a specified coloured-cloth or having a spare feather on hand, leave small burn spots to indicate how many hours he'll be later than usual and then attach to a messenger bird to send it over.

Ittania also lives with her family and trains with her carrier father. She also takes up military missions to gain more experience and help either the town, kingdom or both of potential danger.

Enid lives with her family, but she tends to sneak out at night way too often. Her dad keeps tabs on her, of course, but he simply watches over her. Her brothers, however, would've tried to forbid her from going out at such a late hour if they find out.

[graysanatimony]

Me: being mildly obsessed and unwell about kris guštin and sending my friends stuff about joker out and generally being me

Friend: aren't you gay? Why do you like this man so much?

Me:

Also me: That's not the point. I can still think hes pretty and talented and amazing so whisht

[blackjackkent]

OK, with Gale in tow, we're off to talk to the bookseller downstairs:

"(Literature department. Can I help you?)" the tome-seller at the rear of Sundries stage-whispers as Rakha approaches.

"Why are you whispering?" asks Rakha at a completely normal volume, having never been in a library or, frankly, been much concerned about delicacy.

"(Whisht! These books are sensitive!)" the woman hisses. "(They prefer an environment of quiet reverence.)"

(A/N: One of the options here is to then immediately shout at the top of your lungs, "IS THAT TRUE, BOOKS? ARE YOU SENSITIVE?" At this point, you're kicked out of the conversation, Gale disapproves -1, and both nearby stacks of books explode in a fireball. XD And then the bookseller won't talk to you again until you pay 400 gold to cover the damages.

Tempting, but Rakha isn't really interested in causing trouble; as usual, she just wants answers and wants them now.)

"(I'm trying to find out about a particular Netherese crown)" Rakha says, agreeably lowering her voice; with her particular mannerisms, the effect is a sort of rumbly murmur, like an earth elemental with a head cold. "(Have you anything on that subject?)"

The woman's eyebrows shoot up, startled. "(Bold!)" she whispers. "(You might've heard that our library has a collection other shops would lack the skill to curate. Between us, even Master Lorroakan was reluctant to house them in his tower. The pen is mightier than the magic wand, apparently.)" She snickers briefly before returning to a serious attitude. "(They're locked away for their and our customers' safety. Our finest reserve includes the 'Tharchiate Codex,' 'The Annals of Karsus: A Netherese Folly', 'Sights of the Seelie,' and 'The Curriculum of Strategy.' Do any of those interest you?)"

All of them interest Rakha, in fact. If these are tomes of magic knowledge, then she wants all of them and every bit of information they can provide her. But there isn't time, not now, to be distracted from the main point. The Annals of Karsus is certainly what she wants - information on Netherese magic.

Something, however, gives her a moment's pause - something she hasn't thought about in some time.

Nestled deep in her pack, untouched for months now and almost forgotten in her haze of other problems, is a book. The Necromancy of Thay, found in the basement of the blighted village near the place where the nautiloid crashed. A book full of magic which, even in those early days, she was able to subdue with her own natural power - but which, nevertheless, holds secrets she was not able to unlock.

It belonged, Gale explained to her, to a Red Wizard of a far-off country called Thay. And he used the word Tharchiate as an adjective to describe some of the magic from that place.

"(The Tharchiate Codex)" she hears herself say before she's realized she's going to ask.

The bookseller gives her a careful, narrow look. "(Interesting choice)" she says slowly. "(If I didn't know better, I'd think you might have 'The Necromancy of Thay' in your position. I'd advise tremendous care with the Tharchiate Codex. The cost of unlocking its mysteries is onerous.)"

Interesting. This is not an answer, and the woman seems to know it perfectly well - but also quite clearly has no further interest in giving more information. "(The Annals of Karsus)" Rakha says, somewhat irritably. Her voice starts to lift a little in volume and one of the nearby books emits a threatening belch of sparks.

The shopkeep raises an eyebrow. "(It is said to be written by Lord Karsus himself)" she intones dramatically. "(The Netherese arcanist who attempted to replace the goddess Mystra, failed, and was banished for the attempt. Great magical knowledge lies within those pages, but not many can withstand it.)"

"(That's it! That's what I need!)" Gale hisses eagerly from behind Rakha.

Narrator: The Annals of Karsus would no doubt have much to say about the crown's true nature, if only you could read them...

"(Sounds perfect. How much to buy it from you?)" Rakha asks briskly, ignoring the little voice in her head intimating that this isn't possible.

"(Buy?!)" Rakha can hear the effort in the woman's voice not to break her own rule and shout. "(Books as temperamental as these are not on sale!)" she hisses. "(They are secured in our vault, where none can harm them, nor can they do any harm. Consider yourself lucky to have learned of such a book's existence - and then forget about it. The Annals of Karsus are best left unread.)"

Rakha releases a heavy breath between her teeth. No doubt this woman knows what she is talking about, but the truth is it doesn't matter. Gale has said this book is important if they are to stop the Chosen and the Elder Brain. And, perhaps more importantly - these are books full of answers and this woman is trying to keep them from her.

She leans forward, drawing her lips back a little from her teeth. [INTIMIDATION] "(Unless you want a very nasty paper cut)" she rumbles, "(you're going to tell me how to get into that vault.)"

A little of the blood seems to drain out of the woman's face - but to her credit, she stands her ground and holds Rakha's eye contact. "(Customers like you are why I prefer the company of books)" she growls. "(The only way to gain access to the vault is through my office. And before you ask - no, you are not allowed in there either.)"

Ah. There it is. "(Thank you)" Rakha says curtly, turning away. "(I've learned more than enough.)"

"(You certainly have!)" the bookseller hisses irritably at her retreating back. "(Even simple knowledge of these tomes is enough to stimulate most.)"

-----

"Well. What a lovely woman," Gale says as they move out of earshot of the bookseller - and the books. "A proper respect for the power which can be contained in a volume of knowledge. Truly admirable in all respects."

Wyll gives him a sidelong look. "Are you intending to suggest we give up the search?" he asks, his lips twitching.

"Oh, most certainly not," Gale says cheerfully. "This is a case far too important for petty, quibbling regulations - and with Lorroakan out of the picture, we have full run of the place and I see no reason why we shouldn't take advantage of it. Still - always nice to see someone taking their work seriously." He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "Those Annals are definitely precisely what I need. Somewhere in that vault are pages with all the answers about how that brain is being controlled."

"And the Tharchiate Codex," Rakha mutters distractedly. "Answers about the Necromancy of Thay." Absently she puts a hand on her pack where the heavy outline of the ancient book still sits.

"Yes, yes," Gale agrees brightly. "Much to be gleaned in that regard as well - if you feel your mental stamina is up to the challenge."

"Oh, good," Jaheira quips sardonically. "In my experience it is always a good sign when a book comes with a warning label."

[thedreadvampy]

Ok so I started a big long post about my general question "if Scots is a language why isn't Geordie?" and I think I've satisfied myself that Geordie, despite having syntax and language that is substantively different from standard English, is a dialect in a way Scots isn't.

having said which. a dialect of what though? cause if we understand Scots as a separate language, I would say Geordie takes as much in common with Scots as with English (from "wee" to "fair" and "ower" and "bairn")

like the problem fundamentally is a) I'm not a linguist and b) everyone I've brought this up with seems to think I'm talking about peppering in "ha'way man wey aye pet" and not sentences like "How man but yon gadgey's a canny blatherskite like, he divvn't knaa ha to whisht"

now is that its own language? no. but there's a good chunk that's more to do with Scots than English (blatherskite; whisht; gadge is common in both Southern Scotland and North East England although that's cause it's from Romani; the opening and closing of sentences with "like", "but", "how", "aye" for intensification. "Canny" is a false friend though cause it means "clever/careful" in Scots and while it also means that in Geordie it's largely "very") and that's just a wee example of the commonalities. A lot of points where Geordie differs from standard English are commonalities with Scots (I'm thinking "corbie", "bairn", "lough", "gan", "fash", "mind", as well as a lot of the less-English sentence construction.)

idk like I can on reflection agree that Geordie isn't a language the way Scots is, but I think a lot of the kneejerk dismissal of the question has to do with the fact that people I'm talking to don't actually know Geordie as a dialect.

and I don't think it's a uniquely complex dialect to be clear, it's just the one I grew up around (although I don't speak it owerwell cause I'm posh and I say baath instead of bath and people laugh at me if I say as much as nowt or ha'way) so I know it better than like. Cockney or whatever. but I think it would have been easier for me to understand the difference between a language like Scots and a dialect like Geordie if fewer of the people I talked to thought of a dialect like Geordie as basically an accent with a few unusual words tacked on.

but I think it's taken me a really long

[gravitasmalfunction]

'You will not mind a little risk, will you, Lucius?' 'Me sword's at your service, Deb!' 'Oh no! It has nothing to do with swords -- at least I do hope it has not! I just want you to kidnap Ravenscar for me.' He burst out laughing. 'Is that all? Whisht, it's a mere nothing! And what will I be doing with him when I've kidnapped him?' 'I want you to put him in the cellar,' said Miss Grantham remorselessly. 'What cellar?' enquired Kennet. 'This one, of course. It has a very stout lock on the door, and it is not at all damp -- not that that signifies, and in any event he will be tied up.'

Faro's Daughter, Georgette Heyer

[monstrousproductions]

Im trying to design a cross stitch pattern of the monstrous agonies logo and it is going terribly and difficultly and I'm suffering because of all the shapes thus I've decided your boyfriend Matthew is now my mortal enemy

hahaha he is a terrible and dreadful bastard, it's true. this is the real reason i always tell people not to ask him to make a logo lol

also, this is a correction for myself rather than you - i have a dreadful engrained habit of calling him Matthew publicly but he actually prefers Matt 😅 not your fault at all, absolutely mine, but if in the future you see me calling him Matthew in public please spritz me with water and tell me to whisht

[loveofdetail]

wuu2?

Tagged by @jotarowan!

last song: "Whisht, The Wild Workings Of The Mind" by Lisa O'Neill

currently watching: Revolutionary Girl Utena

currently reading: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, A Trans Man Walks Into a Gay Bar

current obsession: hm. i guess i'm between obsessions? I was having a lot of fun with the synth emulator vcvrack but i haven't gone back to it since my hard drive crash... v_v I've been doing more gardening than usual this summer though!

tagging: @bonewhiteglory @yufiit @illmetkismet

[thesquireinvictus]

"Whisht! Sure, I like that little chip in his tooth. It lends a roguish charm."

[alchemisland]

NOTIDLE

Try not using your mouth, dental procedure Hold your tongue, whisht don’t be an eejit Careful what you wish for, see Words seeds sprout to cedars Leak you sprung might end up litres, puddle to a seething sea Coward not a leader; for all to see, like leaked emails.

[lilac-den]

can we have a little ✨spíce✨ with maverick doting mc while they're placed on his knees? and he just can't help but tease them since mc is all shy and gentle? (I reckon I'll miss all TSR ROs, but nah, I'm all weak for cool guy🤣🤣🤣

A little snippet of Maverick x Shy!MC

I can't stop my heart from beating so much.

It started yesterday, when Sylphina and I decided to visit the Whisht estate after receiving an invitation. It started raining quite late in the evening, so Sylphina and I ended up sleeping over for the night. After waking up and having breakfast, one of the servants quietly asked me if I could see their master, Maverick, for 'something of utmost importance'.

I had expected Maverick wanting to discuss about the Princess. Or Sylphina. Or even advise me about my etiquette training that I had been doing so slowly on.

But none of what I imagine came as I feel my cheeks heat up at the hand that rests on my lower back.

"Are you alright, Wanderer?"

The question was asked in such a casual tone, it almost baffles me on how this stone-faced prick had the gall to ask me such.

How? How can I be alright when I'm sitting on your lap, you dummy?!

"I'm...fine." I barely muster out the second word, hoping I didn't sound too breathy. The hum that escapes Maverick sends a tremor along my body. That tremor grows even more after Maverick grips the hand on my lower back onto one of my hips, pulling me close to his body.

I bit my lower lip and feel fire lick within my belly. Fuck.

"Do let me know if you feel too much discomfort," he says, his quill waving about in movement of his handwriting.

I barely give a nod, my toes curling and uncurling in an attempt to settle down the glee within me for being this close to him. To feel him hold me.

I mentally smack myself. Stop it. He's not holding me. This is...just...

What was it that Maverick needed me for?

When the servant told me Maverick needed me for something important, I rushed my way over here without running (harder than it looked but the servants either didn't notice or ignored it). I only got the question "What's the matter?" out of my mouth before Maverick gestures me to come closer.

And before I knew it, here I am - sitting on Maverick's lap very intimately.

I glance over to his face and take note of the features. Glacial blue eyes focus on his work, white bangs barely reaching above his eyes. His lips are a line, serious and straight. Even his glasses are perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, settled and fitting to his diligent appearance.

Then I see his eyes widen and they turn to me. It took me a hot second for me to realize my hand is on one of his cheeks, something I retract quickly as if I touched fire itself.

"S-Sorry!" I swallow, the touch of his skin still embedded against my fingers. "You just...you..." The attempt to bring up a reason dies on my tongue.

But Maverick, with a curious gleam in his eyes that I'm far too familiar with, tells me, "you are welcome to reciprocate."

A skip occurs inside me. "What?"

Maverick puts his quill down and leans back against his chair, providing me more room. "You are welcome to touch me."

I was so ready to laugh it off, to take this as him making a joke. But two factors stop me.

One: Maverick doesn't joke easily. Sure, he has his quips and jabs with the occasional sass, but he wouldn't joke about intimacy, consent or anything of that order.

And two...I have fought too long to not tell when there's an opening. And right now, sitting on his lap, Maverick has his guard down almost entirely. A part of me begins to itch and after so many years, I give in.

"Please excuse me."

My words barely come out in a whisper to my ears, but Maverick nods with understanding. I reach up for one of his cheeks, hesitating when my fingertips are just centimetres away. My heartbeats are loud and pumping with vigor, forcing me to hear and feel just how nervous I am.

I touch his porcelain skin. Then I cup his cheek.

His face is warm under my touch. I watch him close his eyes and sigh, something in the mix of relief and ease. I move my other hand to cup his other cheek, examining him up close.

His eyes, while shut, display a bit of dark circles underneath as signs of having less sleep than one should. His snow white hair shines under the soft sunlight behind him through the window. His lips are parted, full and a soft pink shade.

I brush my thumb gently along his cheek. Reacting, he leans into the palm of my hand and relishes in my touch. Something lodges in my throat in that moment.

When was it?

When was the last time I saw Maverick like this?

He opens his eyes and my eyes sting.

They're vibrant and blue, sparked with intelligence and watching me with its gaze.

Something I prayed so hard for, the last time I saw those beautiful eyes close. When I only had them in my dreams and hallucinations in my previous life since the incident.

"Wanderer?"

And in that word, cold water splashes onto my trance.

I let him go and scramble to leave his lap. "I'm sorry, my lord. I..." I brush down my clothes and perform a bow/curtsy "Sylphina is calling."

Maverick frowns and moves to stand. "But Wanderer-"

It was a poor excuse. Even just hearing Maverick's 'but' is enough of an indication that he doesn't believe my lie. But I have to get out of here and build a bit of distance before I do something foolish.

So I run. I run out of the office, down the hall and let my blood pump with adrenaline.

But my heart continues to rattle and beat against my chest, even as tears fill my eyes.

They fall the moment I allow myself to imagine, just a little bit, that his eyes called my name with the familiarity of the past.

Something that is no longer there.

[tsukihotaru]

"won't you stay with me, my darling, when this house don't feel like home?" by orphan_account

"Demon City" by esqers(not finished, but it's amazing)

"Whisht's Attempt at Kinktober 2020" by miikamiela

"Reaching For The Final Exit (Suicidal Nightmare fic)" by KhorouxClue

THANKS!!

[sunflowers-and-sweetviolets]

kutner i love you but whisht

[oh2e]

Decided to test my English (Ireland) spellcheck on Word

It allows: Garda, Gardaí, Seán, Tadhg, Caoilfhionn, Róisín, ye, anyways, eejit, craic, mam, c’mon, d’you, banjaxed, culchie, fáilte, gombeen, Taoiseach, Dáil, Oireachtas, sliotar, bodhrán, camogie, currach, boreen, Gaeltacht, Gaelscoil, whisht,

It does not allow: tae, yiz, yous/youse, jaysus, amn’t, g’wan, creatur/creathur, Áras an Uachtaráin, céilí, hames,

kinda anti-irish of my spellcheck to put squiggly red lines under "ye," "yiz," "yous," "jayzus," "anyways," "eejit," "amn't," "craic," "mam," "c'mon," "g'wan," "creathur," "wha," "d'you," every single irish name and word I've ever typed and just about every ing word that does not in fact end in a 'g' when any of my characters say it

[chainsawworld]

Incredibly rude the way I was just woken up there