#why is it worldbuilding weekend?

[thewolfisawake]

Name: Balmoral 'Bal' Sitheach

Personality:

Balmoral is rather casual despite his station. He finds camaraderie and a sense of humor to be quite useful in the everyday. He strolls with confidence that crosses smug and it distracts from his observational skill and scheming mind. He values strength and is not afraid to coax it from his rivals. But there is also a wildness and mischievous streak that can be attributed to his fae nature.

Background:

Balmoral is the latest king to the Unseelie Court, having wrested the victory from a civil war with the Unseelie and had been working on it since then. To the Unseelie prior to him, it would be unthinkable for someone like him to even be considered for the throne. Which, to Balmoral, sounds like they were 'gantin' fer it.' Although he was well-known even then.

Balmoral was a general to the land's forces. While he did prefer to do fights, he found some fun in doing negotiations here and there. His charisma and the careful brokerage of an alliance gave him possible cards with some natural forces, several 'rogue sects' of different races and demons. He particularly found it useful to have Unseelie able to be used within skirmishes or wars since most do not believe fae to be powerful fighters so his forces are not forced into the worst positions. But it also allows for his 'rambunctious lot' to expend their bloodlust, cruelty and revelry without damage to his areas.

Alliances and the like appear to be his strength as he also has behind him companions that serve as advisors with his current status. Many of them were (some still) considered of ill-repute or 'outsiders' to the Winter Court. For some reason or another, they have a loyalty Balmoral and--like with most he deals in--he plays to their strengths and around their pitfalls.

There is rumor of Balmoral having no power at all or it being squandered from all his dealing. And it is this sort of thing that earns laughter from him. Then brambles burst forth from their form, injuring if not maiming them to begin with. What kind of Unseelie king would he be if he didn't possess the strength, the gall, to back up all he has. He has others because it is nice. But it should never be mistaken that he doesn't possess power.

And while some believe it may be the terror or deference his gaze commands, there is an air of something 'inhuman' about the king. And for something to be considered 'inhuman' amongst the swathes of nonhuman beings within the Court and their allied holds...just what is this king?

[mer-birdman]

hi i’m bored does anyone wanna talk about d gray man

[risingsunresistance]

in case anyone thought i was joking

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Tips: A Book in 30 Days

Should I Try It? Take the “why not?” approach. You may just like it. The pros far outweigh the cons. The most compelling reason to go for it is that you’ll finally put your thoughts on paper. You’ll have something tangible to polish and make shine.

Schedule a time to write.

Maybe you can only carve out two hours on the weekdays and then write all day on the weekends. Be realistic with your time.

Outline your novel ahead of time.

Writing from an outline is so much easier. You’ll be able to depend on the structure of an outline to keep you on track.

Here are some Writing Templates & Worksheets that may guide you. Choose which one is most appropriate for you. You may also consider editing your chosen template—add or remove parts to create your own personalised outline.

Give yourself a daily word allowance.

How many words can you realistically write in one day? For some, that’s around 2,000, while others can write up to 10,000 words in one day. But remember, it's okay if you don't hit your daily target. Simply continue the next day.

Set an ultimate word count goal.

Most novels are between 50,000 to 100,000 words. If you write 2,000 words every day, you’ll have 60,000 by the end of the month. If you’d like to hit the industry standard of 80,000 words, go for around 2,700 words a day. Again, remember, it's okay if you don't hit your target. But setting your own writing goal at the beginning of the month can serve as motivation.

Don’t edit as you go.

Turn off that nagging internal editing that will only slow you down.

Take a break at the end of your writing.

You’re going to be stressed out from writing so much, so give yourself a much needed and deserved break. For instance, return to your novel after a few days, or a week, then start editing.

Go easy on yourself.

When you read what you’ve written, a lot of it may not be salvageable. But hopefully, you have the beginnings of an amazing novel. Try not to be too critical, and look for the diamonds in the rough.

Source ⚜ Resources to Help you Write your 30-day Book: Notes & References Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Writing Basics ⚜ Tips & Advice

[thepandalion]

update:

I.

"two paragraphs" is three pages. apparently

in less than an hour btw I spent like half an hour now scrolling tumblr instead of writing

celebrating my successful interaction with a real human person by writing the first two paragraphs I have for the house md casefic featuring actual dog people and also whatever the fuck is wrong with these guys

[elbiotipo]

I am watching a video with criticism of geographical determinism in worldbuilding and realized that I don't really remember seeing any fictional stereotypic merchant state that relies on rivers.

Norse and Rus were whom I had in mind, but to my knowledge British and Japanese people also heavily utilized rivers for trade and I would be very surprised if Ancient Chinese people didn't.

I don't know about history of First Nations of North America and did they have trade in our understanding, but I heard that river system of North America is so convenient that the entire 19th century demand for transportation could have been covered by it alone, without trains.

Just some ideas

Freshwater systems are woefully underused in worldbuilding. The other day I was reading about the history of my region and I was amazed at how big and sophisticated native canoes were in the Paraná, the Paraguay and the Amazonas, and how virtually nobody talks about it. We are talking about ships that could hold about 30 people and some were bigger than Columbus caravels. For centuries into the colonial era, the Spanish and Portuguese hired or pressed into service native navigators for the rivers which were though to navigate as a sea. Still before that, they were the major arteries of commerce and trade through the continent, this is well known. Even Patagonian goods are reported in Corrientes (North of Argentina) which indicates that trade there got very far. As for the Chinese, not only rivers were important to the but also they boasted an amazing canal system but that's about all I know.

One thing I learned recently about rivers and cities is that cities were often founded on the side of rivers, yes, but almost never at their mouth. Look for example at Paris, Rome, London, the Egyptian capitals. They were founded by the river, but the mouth of the river next to the sea is where the delta is, and deltas always change and flood, carrying mud and slit, they aren't good places to build at all. Good river cities are built in the 'deep side' of the river where you can build ports, not in the side where sediment accumulates. Another issue with river cities are marshlands. For example, I remember reading that the marshlands of ancient Rome were drained at great cost. Ancient peoples knew that marshes were 'unsanitary' even if they didn't know why (it's because they host mosquitos and parasites, not because of anything bad wetlands have on itself) and they had to deal with them. There are some exceptions to this, like Venice which was basically built on a marshland (or the Netherlands).

And indeed rivers were (and still are! I see ships going up and down the Paraná every weekend!) a very efficient way of transportation. There's lots about it written in Europe, but river barges were basically the railroads of their time. Before the advent of railroads, people in Europe (and China) weren't thinking roads, but canals, the French built a lot of canals at great expense which became obsolete later by railroad.

Unfortunately the sources about river canoes and transportation in America (continent) are often tucked away in papers and history books, there really isn't that much accessible literature and illustrations about it. Which is a goddamn shame because learning about native canoes bigger than Spanish caravels (and they were still building them in Paraguay and Argentina during colonial times, according to my sources) blew my mind.

[hb-writes]

Deja Vu

Summary: Charlie was practically raised within the walls of her brother's law firm. It's no surprise that her adulthood visits bring about a bit of deja vu.

Prompt: I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.

Characters: Harvey Specter, Mike Ross & Charlie Specter

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

—

Charlie trudged through the 50th floor, her feet working on autopilot as she mindlessly hummed along to the music pouring through her headphones. She was right on time, an anomaly, but the office was already close to empty considering it was a Friday night. Monday through Thursday, the place was full up until 10 pm, but on a Friday, most partners and associates cleared out as early as possible. 

Not Harvey Specter and Mike Ross though because they had a meeting, some last minute client thing that they had to wrap up before the weekend could start. Charlie assumed it was running late. That was why the office was empty, with the automatic lights already off from lack of motion in the space. 

Charlie reached in the room and pressed the switch, ensuring that the room stayed dark as she entered. Ordinarily she may have been annoyed with her brother’s lateness, or at the very least, she would have used the time to be productive—to read the book stowed in her bag or to go grab the case files she was assigned to start on next week, but Charlie knew neither endeavor would be worthwhile. 

Tired as she was, she wouldn’t be able to focus on the rich worldbuilding in her new fantasy novel or the boxes upon boxes of discovery. She was better off resting her eyes. Better off putting up her feet and taking a few minutes of peace and quiet before Harvey arrived. 

Dropping her bag by the door and slipping off her shoes in the middle of the room, Charlie padded towards the sofa in her socks, no small part of her hoping her brother’s delay would be another 20 minutes or so. 

Enough time for a power nap before dinner. 

Enough time to rest and recharge. 

Back in middle and high school, Charlie had habitually napped at her brother’s office, either after school or when he dragged her in on the weekends due to lack of childcare. The office felt like home to her, just as comfortable as her bedroom at their dad’s house in Riverside or the one in Harvey’s penthouse. 

Charlie lowered herself to the cushions and sent a text to her brother before setting the phone on the coffee table. Pulling her knees to her chest, a sense of familiarity and calm, a comforting bit of deja vu shrouded Charlie like a blanket as she drifted to a sudden sleep.

—

Charlie squinted against the glaring light, her stomach groaning of its own accord as the scent of Chinese takeout wafted through the room. Lifting her head from the cushion, she reached for her phone to check the time. She had a handful of missed calls and texts from her brother, but seeing as the lights were on, she assumed she didn’t have to call him back. 

Setting her phone back on the coffee table, Charlie turned on her back, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had slept for almost two hours though she had clearly needed it. 

“Welcome back, BA. You really slept, kid.” 

Charlie groaned. “Are you seriously quoting The A-Team?” she asked as she glanced towards Mike. “Where’s Harvey?” 

“Went to grab some plates,” Mike answered as he continued typing away on his laptop. “And don’t worry. We ordered from the fancy place, but we got your usual.” 

It hadn’t even crossed her mind, but she was grateful for the consideration all the same. 

“Uh, thanks,” she mumbled, pushing herself up into a seated position. “How was the meeting?” she asked, pushing her hair behind her ears. “It ran late?” 

Mike shook his head, still typing for a few moments before he looked up. “Did your class run late?”

“No..?” she offered, eyebrows furrowing. “I was actually early, or on time at least. I didn’t see him when I got here so I just figured I’d wait…and then I fell asleep. Midterms are kicking my—”

Charlie glanced towards the hallway at the sound of her brother’s approach. She turned back to Mike, some part of her made uncomfortable by his nonchalance. She couldn’t understand his ease. It was common knowledge that Harvey didn’t like people at his desk. He barely tolerated when Charlie weasled her way there, and here Mike was settled in the office chair like it was his throne. 

“Aren’t you going to move?” she asked as Harvey neared the door.

“Sure.” Mike glanced up from his laptop. “Do you want to eat at the table or on the couches?” 

Charlie was too distracted to answer, her attention pulled to Harvey’s voice like a magnet as he entered the room. 

“Thanks for letting me know you were here.” 

“I texted you,” Charlie answered. 

“Yeah,” Harvey rolled his eyes. “I’m here. Very helpful.” 

“How much more information am I supposed to give you? Dearest Harvey, I hope this finds you well. It is 7:59 and I am currently occupying couch cushions #1 and #2. Don’t look on cushion #3 because you won’t find me. And anyway, why are you getting after me when Mike’s sitting at your desk? Yell at him.”

Harvey set the plates down on the table, eyebrows raised as he glanced at Mike, who just shrugged. Harvey crossed the room and pressed a hand to Charlie’s forehead.

“You feeling alright there, kid?” 

“Me?” Charlie pushed his hand away. “Are you feeling alright? You hate when people sit at your desk.” 

“I do, and I’m glad to learn after all these years you’ve finally heard me, but Mike’s not sitting at my desk.”

“What is wrong with you? He’s very clearly sitting at—”

Charlie stopped herself as her gaze caught on the startling bright blue of the paperweight she had bought for Mike on his last birthday. She squeezed her eyes shut and brought the heels of her palms to her eyes once again, rubbing at them and half-wondering if this was all a dream. 

But when Charlie opened her eyes, the blue paperweight was still in place and Mike and Harvey were still looking at her as though she was completely mad because she wasn’t in Harvey’s office. Not his current one, anyway. 

She was in Mike’s office, hence his occupying the desk. And hence the glaring lack of records along the far wall and the autographed balls on the windowsill and the distinct lack of shouting on Harvey’s part. 

“Welcome back. You really—” 

Mike started to laugh, but Charlie’s groan drowned him out. “Seriously? Am I having deja vu?” 

“Well, that might explain why you’re sleeping in my old office.” 

“No, not about that,” she answered, gesturing toward Mike. “He just said the same stupid quote.” 

“Really?” Harvey smiled at Mike. “Nice.” 

Charlie rolled her eyes again. “I’m going back to sleep. Maybe next time I’ll wake up in a world where you two aren’t idiots.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know we’re hilarious. I know you want to smile.”

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.” 

Harvey snorted. 

“You’re not mad,” he answered. “Mike woke you up from your nap and you’re hungry.”

Harvey grabbed the paper bag from Mike as he walked towards the couch, dropping it in Charlie’s lap as he sat beside her. “Eat an egg roll. You’ll feel better.” 

Charlie elbowed her brother and then dug through the bag to find the egg roll. Charlie dug in immediately. 

“Guess she was starving,” Mike started, only to receive a glare from Charlie as she chewed and swallowed. “Shut up, fool!” Charlie answered, the three of them dissolving into laughter over a dinner steeped in tv and movie quotes. A dinner steeped in nostalgia and the love of family and deja vu.

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[youkaiyume]

So, Rise of the Beasts!!

I saw it twice of the weekend, and I want to put down my honest thoughts.

Overall, I had a great time and I definitely think it's worth watching. Ignore the critic reviews for some reason they are offended that a Transformers movie exists to sell toys. You know, their sole purpose since the very beginning of inception. But OF COURSE I have THOUGHTS so...

Spoilers under the cut!

I liked the human characters for the most part. Noah's sudden onboard motives for going with the autobots to Peru was not as convincing but adventure needs to happen so I gave it a pass.

Mirage is like, DTF with Noah. Like he is SO ready for that tiny bf bff. It's obvious that Bee spoke so much about Charlie (cuz it seemed he was the only one who did talk positively about humans in their group) that Mirage was just. HIS BODY WAS READY.

CHARLIE WAS MENTIONED!!! AHHHHH!!! That was the one tiny smidgeon of a crumb that I wanted and they gave it to me. Granted it was implied when Optimus says "I know one was good to you, Bee" But I was told that the Latin America dub had him say Charlie's actual name. There was a SCENE that was cut out according to the Hollywood Reporter--that Bumblebee had also pulled out a polaroid pic that Charlie took of them together from the first movie here to show OP. HE'S BEEN CARRYING AROUND HER PICTURE ALL THESE YEARS I DIE WHY DID YOU CUT THIS OUT!!!

Mirage's abilities seem very arbitrary. And I do not like this. He can turn into several alt modes which seems to be only a thing that he can do... he can mass shift--which I know mass shifting is a thing but when he turns into a truck to sneak past the museum security I was like??? I was always under the impression that the bots could turn into a vehicle relative to their own actual size so this just confuses me. There is supposedly an earlier cut of the film where it was more clear that the trailer was another illusion. which I wish they kept in. Also when he becomes Noah's symbiote suit at the end?? Like, as a shipper and rule of cool I am into it, but as a person who wants rules to ground my science fiction I don't like how Mirage is just a swiss army knife for the writer's convenience. It feels lazy instead of taking the time to actually worldbuild. Nobody else can do these things.

The arbitrary mass shifting of him being as big or as small as he wants (like when he becomes Noah's exosuit) really falls apart when they keep insisting that they need the humans because only they can fit into small spaces. Well, clearly not cuz you can just do it yourself. AGAIN, PLEASE BE CONSISTENT WITH YOUR RULES.

Airazor x Elena. Anyone else????

speaking of which, I am very upset about what happens to Airazor. And we never even got to see her transform. tragic.

Optimus sure was a negative nancy which--I understand why but I hope they ease up on edgy "i will rip everyone's faces off" Optimus because it feels disingenuous to his character to keep it going for too long. Like I get it, they killed your fave child so I will forgive you but also I want more of "Be strong enough to be gentle" Optimus. Not the edgelord Bayverse Optimus that they are clearly going for cuz the know certain :ahem: fans like that.

Beeeee. They put him out of commission which again, according to interviews they did just so they could make sure he doesn't steal the spotlight and give a chance for the other characters to shine lmao. He is too powerful. But also because we shots of him in the trailers, I was not too worried about Bee staying out of commission. But goddamn when if I still wasn't hyped as hell when he made his comeback. 10/10 he proves he's still the GOAT.

I hate Pablo/Wheeljack. No, after seeing the movie my opinion of him did not improve in fact it got so much worse. His design was the LEAST of his problems. Every moment he was on screen was deeply cringe. And he barely did anything!! He could have not been in the movie at all and it wouldn't have made a difference and I genuinely believe it would have been a better film. All this hullaballoo over Pablo and this is what we got. Wheeljack fans lost hard after all that defense I'm sorry this ain't it.

Hey speaking of bots that barely got any lines or screentime, wtf was up with Rhinox and Cheetor? My boys got shafted :(

There was a moment where OP is asking the bots if they detected the terrorcons and Arcee WHO IS SITTING in the pablo van was like "lol nope" and I was like GURL how could you, you're in a van. And it made no sense because don't you also have an altmode??? Shouldn't you be scouting outside to cover more ground???

I firmly believe the only had Arcee sitting in there like a dumb duck because they wanted Wheeljack to make a dumb joke in the original cut about how it was a long time since she was inside him. UGHUGHUGH.

Did I mention how glad I am that they cut the majority of Wheeljack's screentime since it was so awful especially his and Arcee's implied romance? Especially since they killed off the other femmes so the only one we got now has to have a mandatory romance. No thanks. Glad that nonsense is gone.

The Maximals' robot modes were very minimal. and they went by so fast I never got a good look at their designs.

I loved how the Maximals were harmoniously living with the native tribe--and speaking their language!

Scourge's face reveal seemed to be treated like it was a big deal but when we saw him it was just... guy without his wig on. Literally the surprise is that he is bald.

Noah x Mirage is very strong good. I have no doubt the fandom will be all over it since they seem to eat up BL romance much more readily and I am all for it. They also have all the great ingredients for it--flirting, drift compatibility, self sacrifice for the other. Another human x transformer ship for the books.

I'm sure there are some ppl who like the ending. but I.... did not. I do not want to see G.I.Joes in my transformers I'm sorry. I don't want the return of military propaganda or more introductions to several human characters that take away from the transformers. I don't want to see them exploited or used for our own human affairs--even if it's a fictional cult-- when they could be literally fighting Decepticons or Unicron or whatever. People might have wanted them in Bayverse cuz it was heavily skewed Military in those films but I don't want to see it again. It was a terrible, dark time. the Joes might be presented as good guys but I don't trust the military in general and I don't see their motives as altruistic--especially if their goal is to use them for their own purposes. Why would they help them get home? They wouldn't, if just to keep their best weapons--and Noah is bait. He is bait and he will fall for it hook line and sinker because they are bribing him with his brother's healthcare and the fact that he is struggling to find work elsewhere.I hope if they are to be involved at all it will be relegated to characters here and there but they stay in their own movies if they have to ride on Transformers coattails to revive an irrelevant struggling franchise.

There was minimal human injuries/death and I appreciate that. They did the DBZ thing where they took their fight to remote locations. This probably won't keep up if they introduce the Joes :/

Overall, 8/10. I had a fun time. I didn't love it as much as Bumblebee but it was definitely miles better than Bayverse (a low bar I know). The action was clear, the characters likable, the CGI mostly stellar. I have hope that they will bring back Charlie maybe. But hey, I took my parents to it the second time around and my Mom liked Mirage and my Dad did not fall asleep so I will consider that a stamp of approval.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Theme weekend: werewolf fics

The Pack Run by BritChick91

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 3,815

Chapters: 1/1

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Werewolf Everyone is a Werewolf Werewolf Rituals Steve Harrington Needs a Hug Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents Steve Harrington Has Abandonment Issues Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper Siblings Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington Sad Steve Harrington Hopper acting as Steve's parental figure Two emotionally stunted men try to talk about their feelings Everyone Loves Steve Harrington He just struggles to see it Hurt/Comfort Emotional Hurt/Comfort Steve Harrington Whump Depression Isolation Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues Werewolf Steve Harrington Werewolf Jim "Chief" Hopper Werewolf Eddie Munson Werewolf Robin Buckley Everyone's a werewolf but these four are the most relevant Implied/Referenced Child Abuse Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

The Pack Runs took place twice a year at the Summer and Winter Solstices, and it was required that between the ages of 18 and 20, all young wolves run at least once. Steve thinks no one would ever want him in their pack so he decides to go it alone. Hopper begs to differ.

Why I'm reccing this: Steve deserves a big freaking hug and he gets one. The werewolf worldbuilding in this is really cool, and Hopper is absolutely fantastic: gruff and just done with Steve's shit.

The Pack Run by BritChick91

Rating: Teens and Up

3,815 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Everyone is a Werewolf, Werewolf Rituals, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has Abandonment Issues, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Siblings Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington, Sad Steve Harrington, Hopper acting as Steve's parental figure, Two emotionally stunted men try to talk about their feelings, Everyone Loves Steve Harrington, He just struggles to see it, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Whump, Depression, Isolation, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Werewolf Steve Harrington, Werewolf Jim "Chief" Hopper, Werewolf Eddie Munson, Werewolf Robin Buckley, Everyone's a werewolf but these four are the most relevant, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

The Pack Runs took place twice a year at the Summer and Winter Solstices, and it was required that between the ages of 18 and 20, all young wolves run at least once. Steve thinks no one would ever want him in their pack so he decides to go it alone. Hopper begs to differ.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Werewolf AU.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[curioussubjects]

After spending the whole weekend grumpy and ruminating about Burning Shores, I think I finally figured out what has me so bothered about Aloy and Seyka's relationship. I wasn't gonna post anything about it beyond the one salty post because nobody needs to hear me go on and on about what's essentially an "I don't wike it" complaint. But the more I thought about the more I started to realize that my problem with Burning Shores is tied to the one big problem I have with Horizon as a whole, which is that Guerilla really seems to struggle with balancing Aloy's position as the protagonist and letting companions shine as characters of their own who can go on quests with Aloy without being useless or getting in the way (or both! too often both!).

I care about the gameplay mechanics less than the writing because the gameplay stuff seems more like level design growing pains than anything else. And we have examples of it being done quite well to (Varl in the tutorial portion of Forbidden West) annoying (here's looking at you Cauldron in Frozen Wilds) or, well, useless as combat support (always, in my experience, with the exception of how it was handled in Zero Dawn's final battle). However, I wouldn't have as much an issue with this gameplay fumble if it wasn't for the impression that the narrative wants me to believe Seyka is somehow immune to it. Or more of an equal to Aloy in terms of ability and responsibility than anyone else, which is just not the case. Everyone plays third fiddle to Aloy because Horizon doesn't actually have a party system! There's nothing special about Aloy and Seyka taking turns with a ballista, or whatever. Seyka was still surplus during combat, or straight up in my way, just like everyone else. That said, I don't know if the experience is different in higher difficulties because I play strictly on story mode, so make of that what you will.

So the writing. It actually pains me a little bit to write this because I love Horizon's story so much (and this should tell y'all something because I detest what if AIs were people plots). I love the characters and I absolutely am bonkers for its worldbuilding. No other game has made me cry as much or be as angry (fuck you, Ted). Yet, sometimes the characters do fall a little flat when they interact with each other. Conversations between Aloy and NPCs often don't flow well from one topic to the next, and they can end abruptly too, in a way that goes beyond the Aloy's conversational skills. The pacing is a bit wonky, too, in how quickly bonds develop or transition. Not that this is always the case since there are some great characters moments, and I also think introducing the Base was a solid step in making everything feel more cozy and believable. I guess what I'm trying to say is that too often I feel I'm being presented relationship concepts, but not being given the time to let those relationships develop organically. Perhaps also a case of growing pains; it just sucks that a game so well put together narratively can struggle with something so central to its interests.

But anyway, this post is actually about Burning Shores and why the whole romance subplot with Seyka and Aloy was so...bland to me. The problem lies primarily with how Seyka was conceptualized as character-- or, well, how it comes off: she really seems to have been created to be Aloy's love interest first, and a character in her own right second. It's like Guerilla just asked themselves what would make a great love interest for Aloy and, though the answer was someone who can keep up with her, they ended up careening straight into Aloyx2 with a Seyka veneer, and not much else.

Seyka is a great hunter and warrior, she bucks tradition to stand for what's right, she's kind of an outcast now, she has sister issues! She got herself a focus she wasn't supposed to have and it made it really hard for her to fall in line with the Quen's social structure! They even rappel the same! But who IS Seyka outside of Aloy and wanting to be with Aloy? How IS she affected by so suddenly stepping outside of her social role? She seemed to have been quite comfortable in it before, so how much is she struggling, really? How is her experience different from Aloy's since Seyka wasn't actually ever an outcast (and I mean the Admiral was in her corner the whole time). Did she have other ties to the tribe beyond her sister?

I don't know, guys, for a character that was meant to be so central to Burning Shores, I came out of the game knowing precious little about her. And as a result, there's a complete lack of tension between her and Aloy, and it'd be so easy for it not to be the case! Even their banter is more like stock competitiveness than anything interesting, which was a missed opportunity because there was an alternative to that was just begging to be leaned into more: Aloy didn't have to be the serious one for once! Their banter as the player explores Pangea Park was such a fun variation of usual commentary. Plus, Aloy's "miss me?" line when she comes back from exploring on her own was super cute. But to make their relationship compelling, Seyka would've needed to be her own person first, rather than a collection of Things She Has In Common With Aloy.

To make matters worse, what the narrative tells me is special about Seyka and Aloy's relationship isn't so special after all when it's echoed across Aloy's relationships with several other characters. How many times to we see characters be more than capable to hold their own in a fight alongside Aloy? How many characters are also shown to be smart enough to keep up with her? And how many characters are trying SO HARD to share Aloy's burden with her? Or who could share common ground with some of the things Aloy struggles with? And all the while, these characters are all very distinct not only from each other, but from Aloy herself and their dynamic with her. If Seyka is more successful than they are, well, why is she? And why aren't they? Because the plot demands it isn't really enough of a reason when you're shooting for character-driven storytelling.

Of course, it just adds insult to injury that the whole relationship develops in the span of what a month? At most? So that scenes like Aloy comforting Seyka halfway through the DLC don't seem like's it's been earned. It might have been a better bet to have swapped Seyka and Alva's introductions to the story. It's worth noting, too, that I only care so much because I'm not convinced Seyka is just a summer fling, so she really did deserve more than a speedrun of finding love during summer camp.

On a much much smaller note: I do feel a certain way about how other potential love interests kind got exited pursued by bear during Forbidden West too with Telanah (bisexual people exist, do not come to me talking about comphet) and Varl getting love interests of their own, and Nil becoming even more of a side character lolsobs Nil HZD you will always be famous to me.

I very much hope H3 does more for Seyka because as it is I'm so not invested it's not even funny. I also live in fear that the line from the Pangea movie about coming back because the love interest is home is gonna feature in some way in their reunion and it's Not Gonna Be Convincing. Incidentally, let nobody tell you writing romance is easy.

Secret good Seyloy that exists in my head save me, etc.

And, frankly, I know people like to rebuke some criticism of Horizon with "this isn't a BioWare game," but Guerilla could do a lot worse than taking point from Dragon Age and Mass Effect in how they handle companions.

[slotumn]

Apparently I'm having a lot of 3H worldbuilding thoughts this weekend. This post is on: on what Adrestia (+Agartha) was after, exactly, by invading Faerghus first in most routes

So the ideological/political explanation is that Faerghus is close to the Church and will defend them so you automatically have to go after them if you go after Church etc etc very cool, but what do they get, materially, by going into the frozen north first thing? That they don't have as much of in Adrestia (or Leicester)?

Metal and mines, apparently:

On top of this, regions adjacent to Faerghus— Duscur and Sreng— are also known for metalwork and weaponry.

Of course you can say it's because the Slithers have deeper infiltration up north (with their involvement with Duscur and Western Church plus Cornelia) so that obviously makes it easier, but I think it's the other way around. Meaning, I think the Slithers put more effort into infiltrating Faerghus because of the metal resources.

Following from that, I think the decision to invade Faerghus first in non-CF routes was a compromise between Edelgard/Adrestians and the Slithers, where Edelgard gets the ideological/political points but Slithers get the material benefits. Ideological stuff listed above aside, if you want to do wide social/civil reforms and make Fódlan less myopic, wouldn't it be more practical to take over the country with fertile farmlands and ports and industry and finance and trade first?

Well, that's what the Empire does in CF, where the Adrestian side presumably has more leverage on operations thanks to having Byleth and the Creator Sword on their side. Situation's a bit different in Hopes but I think it's interesting that in SB, the official invasion as led by Adrestia (instead of Lonato jumping the gun) does end up waiting until after securing the pact with Leicester.

Back to Houses though, it's not hard to see why Slithers want metal and mines. They want to make weapons, and not just regular weapons, they're out here making big fucking mechs. Probably fantasy computers (which also require metals, including precious metals) to operate them, too.

And on the one hand, seeing the Agarthans drag all the actual spoils off to their underground lair so they can make whatever fucked up weapon that they'll use for their own goals probably pissed the Adrestians off. But on the other hand, what can they do when the Agarthans are also providing the military technology (ex: Aymr) that the Adrestians use for their own goals?

Given all this, I think in non-CF routes, by the time Byleth wakes up again, the Empire is actually in a far worse state than we think. The Adrestian troops who are actually doing the fighting are stuck up north where they haven't made much progress in years, and any material gains they have there just go straight into Slither pockets. Back in Enbarr, the Adrestians and Agarthans hate each other even more than they already did at the beginning of the war and are probably doing everything they can to sabotage and spy on one another, while fighting a war on the same side.

At that point, the greatest common motivation the Adrestians and Agarthans would have in finishing up conquering the continent is probably the prospect of finally getting to go at it with one another.

And the letter Hubert leaves in SS/VW telling Byleth about the Slithers: the suddenness of that plot point aside, let's just appreciate how petty (complimentary) that is, politically. "I know you killed us and all, but we really hate the guys we were doing this group project (war) with. Can you kill them too. Thanks."

Tl;dr the Adrestian-Agarthan war councils in non-CF routes probably gave multiple people high blood pressure

[the-book-guild]

Book Guild Meeting #1—All Systems Red

Meeting Date: 01 Nov 2024 Book Stats: Author: Martha Wells Page Count: 149 Genre: Science Fiction—Thriller Section Read: Chapters 1-2

Questions for Discussion:

How does the author convey humor?

How effective do you think the narration would be if it had been done in third person rather than first person?

What unique features did you notice about the author’s execution of worldbuilding (meaning what sets it apart from other sci-fi worldbuilds)?

Why do you think the author doesn’t physically describe Murderbot in more defined details?

What have you noticed so far about Murderbot’s persona?

Quote(s) & Excerpt(s):

I don’t think I have anything in particular this week to point out specifically about the chapters we read. I can say I don’t normally care for first person narration; it often sounds very shallow and childish. I don’t really want the protagonist narrating everything going on, it gets irritating and yet in this work it’s downright delightful.

Murderbot does a solid job of giving only the absolute essentials in narration; it doesn’t go into nitty gritty details when describing anyone or anything, just gives enough to paint the bare minimum of the picture. All personal quips are still informative, like we know that Murderbot isn’t contractually required to understand why things are bad for people or not (17).

And even when the Murderbot is talking about how it hacked its own governor module, it isn’t bragging so much as explaining what it did and why that is technically an issue and that now it has to cover its tracks on the job.

This novella has a mystery within a mystery. We haven’t really hit the mystery of the book yet, that comes to light in chapter 3 but the overarching mystery is: why did Murderbot hack its governor module?

I’ll check in with the discussion questions throughout the weekend and I’ll include my own answers first thing with next week’s meeting.

My answers will be the first thing under the cut and then any additional discussion from me will follow that. See you next week!

[syneilesis]

[fic] Floriography

Floriography

Ikemen Vampire | Part of Cybird University Verse | Vlad x Reader | G | 3.5k words | ao3 link

By next week, and the several following, Vlad gives you flowers.

A/N: One last fic before my vacation ends! Another installment to my university crossover AU! This one is just silly and pointless and I don't know why it's reach this word count lol. In this particular fic, characters from other ikeseries games show up, and there are some callbacks to the previous fics for worldbuilding lol. I'm not an expert of floriography, I just used this as reference.

The day the news broke out that the university president has been kicked out and replaced by a new one, is the day that you wake up as if your muscles are replaced by lead.

Sore, aching in places you don’t even know can ache, your heavy eyes struggling to pry open, you—after ten minutes of intense internal deliberation—decide to call in sick. This is rare, but the recent months have thrown you into a waterfall of activities: traveling to conferences, organizing events, research projects, department-related excursions—these on top of teaching and grading papers and lots and lots and lots of meetings held consecutively in separate buildings.

You steal a few more minutes of sleep, but the responsible (read: guilty) person that you are, you grab your phone on the desk beside your bed and fire off a heads up in your department group chat. An email announcement for today’s classes will be written a little later.

Not even ten seconds in and your phone lights up like fireworks.

HEY HEY YOURE MISSING OUT

Oh, no. Rest well, doc.

Oh my god guys! Did you read the paper?

Moving forward, what’s in it for us?

Its aLready been poSTED in teh WEBSITE!!!!!!!!

Proper typing please, prof. This is still a professional group chat.

You squint at the stream of chats as you try to feel for a sleeping position that wouldn’t exacerbate the soreness in your calves. The nerves at your nape feel pinched and your shoulder muscles burn. Thank god it’s almost the weekend; you think you won’t come to work until next week.

Then, in a private chat, one of your colleagues sends you a link to a livestream of an emergency announcement. On the thumbnail is the Executive Secretary Kicho’s face, and despite the woozy state of mind and body, you tap on the video.

“—thus, from this day onwards, our new university president—”

A close up shot of the HR director, looking like when Professor Clavis has installed a giant disco ball on top of the historical main building—again. A panicked glare towards the secretary, who ignores it, then a rapid blinking that can be interpreted as repeated SOS directly to the camera. The live comments are on fire: some asking what happened to the previous president, some celebrating the disappearance of the previous president, and some lamenting over the future of the university. Two in particular are a momentous standout:

Dr. Clavis Lelouch Haha so we’re allowing insurrections now? Splendid! @Chevalier Michel sleep with one eye open 👈(ﾟヮﾟ👈)

Kenshin Uesugi, PhD I will join the insurrection and challenge Michel to a duel to the death.

It’s chaos afterwards. You spare a sympathetic thought for your HR-Director-promoted-to-University-President. But, really, you’re too out of it and in pain to care. Sleep calls, and it is not to be denied.

+

A few hours more of sleep, breakfast, and an email announcement to your classes (with additional assignments so your students won’t slack off) later, there’s a knock on the front door.

On the other side of the doorway, a bouquet of gladioli and yellow tulips greets you. This is held by a pair of elegant-fingered hands attached to a beautiful specimen of a man, who is currently gracing you with the sweetest smile that has ever existed in your lifelong awareness.

“Special delivery!”

Vlad passes you the flowers, your hands coming up to meet the gift in reflex. You met Vlad—a pretty and charming florist across your building—right after you moved into your apartment. Noticing the moving truck, he had wandered into the building and introduced himself, a pot of anthurium in hand. You were so taken by his kind and pure heart that you’d swore to yourself to protect this man and buy flowers from him regularly. To this day, the anthurium is still alive and bright-colored in your living room.

“I didn’t order this?” you say, admiring the flowers. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s a get-well-soon gift from your students. They asked me to deliver it to you, since they have classes all day today and couldn't do it themselves.”

That’s sweet of them, to make a gesture like this. It warms your heart, and you bring the bouquet closer to your chest.

You almost forget that Vlad is standing outside the hallway, and he’s watching you with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Oh! I bought a strawberry cake yesterday. Have some as my thanks.”

“I won’t say no to that.”

You also brew him coffee, explaining that the combination is a feast on the taste buds. Vlad just hums in agreement, definitely not protesting against free strawberry-made food. As he enjoys the pastry, you sip your own coffee in contentment, the floral gift already arranged and added into the coziness of your living area.

Midway through decimating his cake, Vlad comments, “This is my first time inside your home.”

You pause. “Truly?”

“Truly.” He turns a little to his left, where the large windows overlook the campus, the sun glaring behind the edge of the main building far to the right. “Ah! The anthurium I gave you is still healthy.”

“Of course. I’ve been pretty diligent about taking care of it.”

Vlad smiles so prettily that your heart forgets to fulfil its function for a couple of seconds. Will that have to be added to your list of things to ask your doctor?

When all is finished, Vlad lingers in the hallway as you bid him goodbye. Then he asks, “Will you also call in sick tomorrow?”

You think about it for a moment. “If I still feel sore, then maybe. But as much as possible, I don’t want to cancel classes again.”

He takes the liberty to smoothen the wrinkles on your shirt, a move that you find odd yet not unwelcome. “I see. Then, rest well. I’ll see you around.”

The remaining hours of the day are spent on the bed, hot compress soothing your heavy muscles, while you catch up with your leisure reading. Every now and then your thoughts drift to the memory of Vlad’s smile, how it’s caught in the late morning sun, an example of perfect geometry. You don’t notice it—but your own lips curve of their own accord.

And then your phone buzzes with the group chat notification, the preview text saying, OUR SPY SAYS SURPRISE AUDIT TOMORR…

+

The next day, you come into the department office warmly welcomed by a mess of papers and Hideyoshi at the end of his wits.

“I’m sorry you have to come to work,” he says by way of greeting, the black undereye circles he’s sporting so obvious in his haggard face. “I would’ve told you to rest some more, but Mitsuhide says that the head auditor is personally seeing the audit of our college.”

You nod in sympathy. It’s not like your college doesn’t comply with the university standards—in fact, it’s one of the most compliant colleges ever, lauded (sarcastically though) by Executive Secretary Kicho whenever he has the opportunity for it. It’s just that, there’s a weird and tension-filled rivalry going on with your dean and the director of internal audit. Every time they cross paths you swear that the air thickens and darkens, static raising the hair on your arms and nape. It drives Hideyoshi insane and Mitsuhide gleeful. Dean Nobunaga, though—he’s just amused and so nonchalant about it all.

“S’okay, I planned on coming anyway. Uh, good luck to us, I guess? What time will the audit happen?”

“In the afternoon, right after lunch break—we have a little more time.” Hideyoshi sighs. Behind him your colleagues pass around a jug of coffee, the enticing smell reaching your nose. “It’s not that we’re not prepared, but we’ve been informed that today is going to be different. How exactly it will be different, I don’t know. Mitsuhide didn’t say.”

“But is Dean Nobunaga worried about it?”

Hideyoshi jolts at that. “Not at all! Our—our dean has full confidence in our capabilities. It’s just that—well …”

Hideyoshi’s devotion to Nobunaga has been a main topic in the college for some time now—ever since he assumed the position of associate dean, in fact. Apparently something happened between them in the past that made the once-average-performing student Hideyoshi shoot for graduating with distinction so that he could follow Nobunaga in whatever field he was taking. It isn’t like it’s a secret, but the teasing became so much for Hideyoshi he’d now get embarrassed whenever somebody mentions that particular point of his past around him.

Sometimes, you catch him unconsciously referring to the dean as ‘Lord Nobunaga’, but you don’t bring that up to him ever.

“It’s just that the audit director has been trying to sabotage our college and destroy our reputation! I can’t let that happen.” Hideyoshi’s phone rings, and he warily turns around. “I must check the other departments. We’ll have our post-audit meeting later. In the meantime, don’t push yourself too much, okay? Where’re the dept-heads when you need them …”

When you place your bag on your desk, a colleague offers you a mug of coffee, which you take gratefully. “Happy Friday, I guess?” you offer.

It’s met with a snort. “Say that again after you finish filing all your student evaluation forms. Bet it hasn’t even reached seventy percent compliance.”

Your co-faculty is right. “Mine’s sixty-three.”

“Ouch. You still have class this morning, right? There’s still time. Happy Friday.”

You sigh, thinking about begging your students to fill out their evaluation form again. Happy Friday indeed.

+

“Vlad!”

“Oh, hello.”

There are two other customers perusing the displays, curiously sniffing the blooms. Instead of meandering around, you head straight to the counter, where Vlad is rearranging the decorations beside the cash register. He waves a hand goodbye at the one customer who exits without buying anything and glances at the other, who’s still smelling the flowers. When his shining eyes fall upon you, you momentarily forget what you’re supposed to say.

“Uh—oh, right! I’d like to place an order,” you say, checking your phone for any additional instructions. When you find none, you go back to Vlad, who’s watching you with his customer service smile. “A bouquet for our boss, something that means respect and success and great job and all.”

“Hmm.” The smile cracks and becomes more excited. “Did something good happen?”

“We just survived a surprise audit. Everybody was ready to demolish our building out of sheer panic, but Dean Nobunaga led us to victory. The audit director looked so frustrated! We just want to celebrate tonight. Can it be done?”

“Of course, you can count on me.” Vlad steps out of the counter. Somewhere in the corner, the other customer sneezes. “I already have something in mind. I’ll get on to it right away.”

He shows you a preliminary illustration of the bouquet, and you, knowing nothing about the language of flowers, agree to everything he suggests. It’s paid by the college budget anyway, so whatever. When the flowers are finalized, you hand him Hideyoshi’s card. Vlad raises an amused brow, having gotten to know the man via your recountings of your college shenanigans whenever you drop by, but swipes it wordlessly.

“I’ll pick it up later, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

At the door you turn and see the remaining customer having an allergic reaction to sunflowers. Caught off-guard by the scene, you approach the person to help, meeting Vlad’s concerned eyes at the other side. It takes you an hour for the matter to settle, and you finally leave the flower shop, Vlad’s soft, cool voice lingering behind you.

+

By next week, and the several following, Vlad gives you flowers.

Not a bouquet, just one hand-picked flower that he offers you by the apartment exit with a cheerful smile and a morning greeting.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Just something to brighten your mood,” he answers.

And that would be that, except every day it’s a different flower: today it’s an amethyst flower; tomorrow it’s angelica flower; the day after that it’s lesser celandine; and so on and so forth. There’s no pattern to the choices of flowers he gifts you, and oftentimes you wonder if he’s just carding through the types of flowers alphabetically for no reason at all.

It comes to a point where even Nobunaga makes mention of it:

“Your admirer is committed to their daily presents, I see.” 

He’s caught you on the way to your department office, studying the flower as if it holds all the answers to the universe. You freeze at your dean’s voice, and Nobunaga takes the opportunity to intimidate you through proximity. He eyes the flower before gauging your reaction, and something in your face delights him, because he grins and says:

“White clover. Interesting.”

It takes a few more seconds, but you manage to gather your wits.

“It’s just from the florist near my apartment building. He’s nice and generous enough to give me flowers to ‘brighten my mood’, as he put it.”

“Indeed.”

Nobunaga’s grin hasn’t slipped off, and a grinning Nobunaga means a dangerous Nobunaga. You still remember that time when he audaciously announced that he intended to unify all colleges under his lofty purview, which incited a whole spectrum of responses ranging from sardonic amusement (Dean Sariel) to a declaration of war (Professor Kenshin). It’s risky to stay inside the perimeter of a scheming Nobunaga, so you pretend to look around and gasp dramatically, pointing to a corner as if expecting somebody to materialize out of thin air.

“Oh, look! Isn’t that Doc Hideyoshi coming to get you? Well, dean, it’s nice to talk to you. See you around!”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of responding when he calls out, “I’ll guess tomorrow’s choice—peach blossoms.”

+

Vlad’s flowers are too beautiful to put away once they wither, so you elect to press them and have them framed in your home.

But as you stare at the array of the colorful gifts for you, you can’t help but think of what Nobunaga told you earlier. It haunts you until the next day, when Vlad hands you a frame of pressed peach blossom flowers.

“Peach blossoms are out of season,” he elaborates, “so I preserved them until I can give them to you.”

The words escape you quicker than your brain can catch them:

“What the hell?”

Vlad falters, his genial smile wavering, and you scramble to accept the gift with a sheepish smile of your own. A dour Vlad makes the world go dimmer, so you try to salvage your faux pas.

“I’m sorry! I just meant—you’re going to think it strange. Yesterday, my boss saw your gift and then predicted that today’s flower would be peach blossoms. And he’s right! I can’t believe he’s right.”

As you recount your conversation with your dean, Vlad listens in rapt attention, his expression serious, until you mention Nobunaga’s parting words, and that lights up Vlad’s face. “Oh,” he says, narrow-eyed pleasure uplifting his features. “What an interesting man.”

“Is he? He just made a lucky guess, I bet.”

“Why don’t you ask him what he thinks? Maybe he guessed my intentions correctly as well.”

That makes you pause. “What are your intentions?”

Vlad chuckles. He taps your nose once, almost teasing but also fond. Your heart skips a beat.

“That takes out the fun, doesn’t it?”

Later, at the faculty room, Nobunaga sweeps by and sees the framed peach blossoms on your desk. The smirk he’s adorning is practically radioactive in its smugness.

+

Before the end of the day, you cave.

You march up all the way to Nobunaga’s office, heedless of Hideyoshi’s offended squawk, and demand, “All right. Explain.”

Nobunaga leans back on his plush leather chair and eyes you critically, arms folded across his chest. If you were anybody else, and Nobunaga anybody else, the way you treat your boss could invite a surprise visit from the HR. But you’ve been working in this institution for a while now, and four-fifths of those years had Nobunaga as your dean. He may be intimidating at first—and he still is—but you’ve discovered that underneath that warlord-philosophy he’s got going for your college is a big brother who would readily tease his younger siblings with relish at every opportunity.

Which makes him all the worse when you think about it.

Behind you, Hideyoshi attempts to catch your attention. “What do you think you’re doing—”

“White clover. Think of me.”

You and Hideyoshi both halt and stare at Nobunaga. The twin looks of confusion fail to daunt him.

“In the language of flowers, white clover means think of me.”

He lets the words hang in the air, and you and Hideyoshi glance at each other—he bewildered and you boggled.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you doubting Lor—Dean Nobunaga?!”

You level Hideyoshi a pointed look. He coughs discreetly. Before you can say anything further, Nobunaga redirects back the topic at hand.

“I am certain. You may ask me about the meanings of other flowers, if you wish.”

“Okay … Amethyst flower?”

“Admiration.”

“Angelica flower?”

“Inspiration.”

“Lesser celandine?”

“Happiness coming your way.”

“Hibiscus?”

“Delicate beauty.”

You pause at that. “What? Really?” You shake your head. “Uh … Viole—blue violet?”

“Faithfulness.”

“... Peach blossom?”

Here Nobunaga smirks, just like earlier. He lets the silence marinate for a bit before dropping the bomb.

“I am your captive.”

Hideyoshi gasps; you’re not sure why—he’s not the one being wooed. The two of them await your response, Hideyoshi vibrating with what you suspect is materteral commentary on the subject matter.

“Seriously?” you say.

Nobunaga just nods.

“Is someone courting you?” Hideyoshi explodes, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you to him. His expression is a little frantic, as if he can’t believe that he wasn’t informed of this. You’re tempted to say that he can always adopt you if he wants to continue indulging himself of his motherly urges. “You know them well, right? You’re getting to know them well? They have a stable job, right? What’s their annual salary rate? They better not have any criminal record. Have you asked for their CV—”

“Okay,” you declare, escaping the associate dean’s line of interrogation and heading towards the door. “Thanks for the answers, Boss. And Doc Hideyoshi—you might as well slap my suitor’s face with money based on how you’re shaking right now. Anyway, gotta go.”

“Wait, I’m not finished—”

“Byyyyeeeee!”

+

Tomorrow comes, and just like any previous days, Vlad is waiting for you by the apartment building exit, and this time the flower he offers you is a rose. Red and fully blossomed.

“This is the most beautiful rose that bloomed in my garden,” he explains without your prompting. “I’d like for you to have it.”

Hesitation colors your movements. Even you know what a red rose means. Vlad’s gaze is guileless, and you’ve no doubt that the man knows that by giving you a rose, he’s declaring something with intent.

Though it's only a single flower, its fragrance is remarkably potent. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know what this means, right?” And, because you can’t help yourself, you add: “I asked what the other flowers’ meanings are.”

“And what did you find out?”

So you tell him what transpired the day before. Vlad listens diligently, a serene light cast on his face. When you enumerate the list of flowers he’s given you the past weeks and what they symbolize, the calm smile that curves Vlad’s mouth widens and widens.

When you finish, Vlad’s grinning, white teeth sparkling against the morning sun. For some unfathomable reason, the thought of him being a perfect toothpaste model renders you distracted. You nearly miss him stepping closer to you.

He leans towards the side of your face, his hand grasping one of yours and pushes something on your palm. Your fingers enclose on a narrow stem, thornless.

Then Vlad whispers into your ear, “So … have I succeeded, then? Did you think of me in the last several weeks?”

He also smells of roses. This close, you note the floral scents that cling to him strongly. Like he’s bathed every day in flowers.

“Well?” he spurs, and the warmth of his breath accelerates your heartbeat. It makes you realize the lack of distance you have with each other.

“Oh,” you mumble, shifting your feet. Vlad remains in his position. And then, softer: “Constantly.”

Vlad sighs happily, pressing his nose against your hair and inhales your scent. You jump in surprise, not expecting that. But before you can make another move, he’s lessened his proximity to you, hands on his back, head tilted, innocent smile on.

“Did you … Did you just—”

“I’ll send a frame of pressed agrimony to your boss, and—” Vlad looks at you slyly “—attach my CV while I’m at it.”

You blink.

“What.”

⇼

Endnotes:

Other reactions from Nobunaga's unification goal: confusion (Prof. Isaac); bloodthirst (Head of Security Motonari); airheaded intrigue (Prof. Dazai); nosy intrigue (Prof. Arthur); resentment (School of Divinity Dean Kennyo); rebellion plotting (then-Prof. Kicho); a raised eyebrow (Prof. Michel); pure stressed out (then-HR Director); pure amusement (Director of Audit); refusal to be one-upped by this villainy (Prof. Clavis); etc. etc.

The apartment building you live in is owned by the kind landlord, Comte.

Vlad deliberately set up his flower shop across the apartment building so he could unnerve Comte whenever the landlord visited the building. When Vlad had developed an interest in you, Comte barged in his flower shop once and threatened Vlad not to hurt his tenant. Vlad sent him hops flowers, just because.

You luckily managed to reach 70% compliance in student evaluation that day before the audit session. Happy Friday.

Hideyoshi reads Vlad's CV and ruptures his blood vessels. Mitsuhide is there to see it in real-time.

[skyfallscotland]

So I wanted an audiobook to listen to on my long journey to the convention last weekend, so I borrowed the dramatised audio of House of Earth & Blood thinking I'd just see if I liked it (scarred by my Throne of Glass experience, I no longer believe any hype). I actually quite like it, maybe because of the urban fantasy setting? I'm more interested? I don't know. Anyway, here's my thoughts, part one:

Everyone lied. I had fucking flash cards ready? People made flash cards? This is not difficult to follow, I don't know, the worldbuilding seems fairly straightforward to me, but to each their own?

I love Danika already and I hate everything

Oh. I thought...I thought that was going to happen at like...the end of the book. Oh damn. I'm low-key devastated?

E Ithan is blacklisted for life. Fuck off, E Ithan.

Fury is also blacklisted. Fuck her.

I'm ride or die for my little dancing drug addict already, I don't know if you can tell.

Oh, and I'm in the CLUB NOW!!! Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbarran Fae 🎶💃🏼

Don't know if we like him yet or not? But I'm going to go with yes against my better judgement, because he seems like a little emo boy and teenage me is obsessed already 😌

Hunt seems ok? Why does everyone hate him? Never mind, y'all hated Chaol, I'll form my own opinions 😭💀

I love that things are blowing up here. That's my favourite kind of action movie and this feels like an action book.

Also, Danika definitely stole that fucking horn.

"Not interested." Queen, you dropped this 👑

Sabine is also blacklisted along with all the archangels, they can go choke.

I sort of feel like she's showing more of Bryce's depression and trauma, rather than just glazing over it the way she sort of does in her other series', but I just feel like...you can't bring up a suicide attempt and just glide right on, you know? Let me sit with this.

Evil mum says Danika definitely stole that fucking horn. The Bryce-Danika friendship is starting to feel a little lopsided and I don't know if I'm digging that.

I think I'm around halfway through. I like it so far, more than I liked Throne of Glass. Not sure if I have favourite characters yet or pairings. I like the otters 🥹

[jpitha]

Worldbuilding stuff. Remember that everyone's planet will have different rotation, a different year. Everyone's "day" will be different. How will they work around that when they're with humans? Will they?

The K'laxi homeworld is a smaller, older, more stable world than the Humans, but fortunately, their spin was actually pretty close. While on Earth a day is 24 or so human hours, on K'lax a day is around 32 human hours. Their similar circadian rhythms is one theory as to why the two sapient species get along so well.

Shortly after humanity arrived on the K'laxi station, both leadership groups got together and discussed how "day" and "night" would work together. The Humans normally used a 7 day week with two of the days designated "the weekend" a time for rest and friendship. The K'laxi didn't have such a designation, they only divided their 768 (human) day year up into thirty two 24 day months and had several feast days, holidays, family days and other breaks from work built into each month. To the K'laxi, familial relations are very important and they have large regular family get togethers.

In the end, as the K'laxi didn't divide their month into weeks and the humans did, they decided to make a 10 day "week" with two human years happening every one K'laxi. It wasn't exact but it was pretty close. There was always some adjustment when moving stations or going to planets, but everyone tried to keep things as close as they could.

As the Humans and K'laxi who were raised together in space grew and spread across space, their language and timekeeping became standardized for use on starbases and starships. After only about 100 years, it was expected that any Humans and K'laxi one met in space could speak the same dialect of Colonic and all kept the same calendar.

As the relations with the Xenni normalized, they were offered to join in with the humans and k'laxi, but they were a much different species. They originated from a world much wetter than Earth and K'lax and loved being in the sea. They were rather carcinized* and much preferred wet water worlds and their own rather moist starbases, the Xenni kept more to themselves.

The AIs that were the Starjumpers, Starbases, starships, as well as the ones in bodies that lived and worked among the other sapients thought this was all rather silly and a distinction without a difference. They did like that the Humans and K'laxi slept at night though, so when they were asleep they could go out and be among their own kind and do their own things.

*crab people. Think crab people

[setaripendragon]

JSaMN Readalong Liveblog - Chapters 2-3

Honestly, I have no idea if I'll be able to keep up with this, the first one took an entire afternoon, and while I have a lot of free time, I'm not sure I have that much free time XD Either way, I'm going to try, and see how I get on, because this is rather fun, if time-consuming. I've never actually taken the time to write down my thoughts as I read a book before. My approach to fiction is generally that if I'm not so absorbed I forget the real world exists, I'll go read something else, which makes this sort of liveblogging a bit impossible. Alright, here we go.

Chapter 2 - The Old Starre Inn (January - Fabruary 1807)

Every time I read or hear 'the old starre inn', my mind puts it to the tune of The Magician in York. (Warning: song contains spoilers up to chapter 4 of the book, I think.)

Narrator: Chapter 2: The Old Starre Inn Me: All on a winter's day~

I find it very interesting, the fact that Norrell gives them no specifics as to the magic he's done. After all, he hangs so much pride on his status as a practical magician that you'd think he'd want to show off. But it doesn't feel at all out of character, as he sees these 'pretend' magicians as so far beneath him that why would he need to?

Which is in such contrast to Honeyfoot's impression of him as 'humble' that it's funny. But at the same time, I don't think Honeyfoot is entirely wrong in his impression of Norrell. 'Shy' perhaps gives the wrong impression, but I get very vivid vibes from Norrell of that loner kid on the playground who no one wants to play with because they're 'weird', except once they settle into their isolation and do something cool because they're just trying to have fun by themself, everyone's suddenly interested in them, and their response is 'fuck off, it's mine not yours'.

"For the nation's good. He is a gentleman, he knows his duty..." This is such an alien perspective to me. I know it's a very common attitude of the time, and something of a theme in the book, but there's a whole commentary here on community and how people's sense of belonging has changed over time that I don't have the brain-power to make right now.

"Magicians in England are a peculiarly ungrateful set of men." I love this sentence. 'Magicians in England' - you mean the rich white gentlemen calling themselves magicians? Ungrateful? Perish the thought! XD

The fact that York is 'one of the most magical cities in England' with the possible exception of Newcastle is such an interesting piece of worldbuilding, and I can't help but wonder if that's a modern (to the book) thing, that simply scholars of magic happened to gather and set off a positive feedback loop, or if there is some in-world... concentration of magic. Given the connection of nature and magic, and the Yorkshire moors being so very iconic, there might be something to that?

Also, loving another little taste of the Raven King mythos, with the mention of 'the King's city of Newcastle'. Honestly, I've never been overly invested in English history (save for Arthuriana, but that's fantasy), but the way this book builds the fantasy on top of a skeleton of truth makes me much more interested in finding out about reality as much as the in-book lore of the place. (Much in the same way Assassin's Creed made me interested in finding out the truth of the history it depicts to better compare the story to.)

I might have to go on a wikipedia spiral about the history of places like York and Newcastle at some point. If these liveblogs don't swallow my entire weekend XD

"We do not care for men who build their reputations at the expense of other men's peace of mind." I do not like this man. (I know I'm not supposed to like this man, he is a representation of the worst sort of self-aggrandizing and complacent entitlement of rich white armchair-scholars, but it bears saying; I really don't like him XD Much respect to Segundus for not punching him in the face.)

"English magicians were only ever given common ivy." Ah, symbolism. I have a lot of thoughts about why ivy, honestly, and I definitely want to do some research on this later, but the phrasing here is so telling. 'Only ever given common ivy', making it so blatantly not some sort of accolade, but something commonplace and unremarkable. There's also the fact that ivy can be associated with neglect, as it's seen so often on old, crumbling buildings, and as a symbol of nature 'reclaiming' or even taking over that which people have built. (Again with the ominous whimsy of this book; the gothic imagery of an old house all over-taken by ivy matched with the tone in which the comparison is made making light of potential drama of the symbolism.)

There's also the correlation between ivy and lovers (ivy clings and binds and twines around things. And I recall reading somewhere about it being used for symbolism in the story of Tristan and Isolde?) but I don't think that's quite as applicable here, even though my brain does love to chew on it.

I'm noticing now, as well, that the author makes excellent use of 'show don't tell'. Instead of simply telling us that the room was noisy and everyone was shouting over each other, though we do get told that, we're also given the example of an old man being very passionate about some point that no one can actually hear over the noise.

I find it interesting because I've been reading a lot of things expressing frustration with the maxim because, I think, people take it too literally. That you must never tell, and only show, which of course will absolutely ruin your pacing and make your story very boring. But this, here, is what I think it means. Of course we could simply have been told 'it got loud as everyone argued', but the art of writing is not to simply tell people what happened, but to make them feel it. And by 'showing' us this little snapshot, by giving the noise a face in this old man who cannot make himself heard over the din, despite being very engaged in making his point, it makes the whole business feel much more real.

Oh, I feel so bad for Honeyfoot and Segundus in this part. Although I find it very interesting that we never actually got to see whether Norrell did do any magic for them. We cut from him confessing that he's a practical magician to Segundus and Honeyfoot leaving, and we don't actually know what happened in between.

And, of course, neither do Honeyfoot and Segundus. Which is deeply, deeply unnerving to me when I think through the implications. Not knowing where you are is one thing, but not knowing where you have been is a whole nother level of creepy. And yet, the narrative doesn't treat it as a particularly horrifying occurance. (Again with the ominous whimsy.)

There is something of a theme of this, too, in the book, with the truly horrifying things that magic makes people capable of being treated as a sort of just a thing magic can do, rather than lingering on the violations of privacy, personhood, and autonomy. Not to say that I feel that the narrative is treating them as inconsequential or in some way not as bad as they really are, but that it doesn't pass judgement on it, and lets you draw your own conclusions (which is a bit refreshing in this resurgence of purity culture in fandom at the moment).

Like, here, Segundus doesn't react with any particular horror or upset at his confusion and disorientation. Which, honestly, I find only heightens my own horror. He's just... sort of vague and fuzzy about it all, even in his emotional reaction to his memory being vague and fuzzy. (Like how someone with mind control telling someone to 'do a bad thing' is not nearly so horrifying as someone with mind control telling someone that 'you want to do a bad thing')

I find this part particularly gave me shivers, when Segundus and Honeyfoot are being questioned about the library and they're asked of the books:

"Had they been permitted to take them down and look inside them?" "Oh, no."

Like, everything else we hear from them is just... an obfuscation of the facts? There were a lot of books in the library, some of them were very rare, and that's the impression they've been left with even if they can't remember the specifics, but that? That, we know for a fact to be false.

Which then very abruptly throws Segundus's previous assertion that he knows for a fact that he hadn't seen any magic done into doubt.

Honestly I think that whole sequence is masterfully done. Because at the time, the way Segundus explains it, we're given no reason to doubt his assertion. He says he feels as though he saw magic, but knows for a fact that he didn't. Which can very easily explain away his awareness of the extra lighting and the... (I keep wanting to call it a maze-array, but that's the wrong fandom XD) directionlessness of the hallway, as him having the sense of magic, but not, actually, knowing for sure it was such because neither he nor us the audience were shown Norrell actually casting those spells.

Except then we get that blatant untruth, and suddenly that blank space of time between Norrell's confession at the end of chapter 1 and Honeyfoot and Segundus leaving at the beginning of chapter 2 just opens up with posibilities.

There's also the contrast between Honeyfoot merely being affected in the moment he tries to explain, and Segundus having felt 'heavy and stupid' for the entire week in between meeting Norrell and meeting with the Society. I do love how clear it is already that Segundus is sensitive to magic, the way he noticed so clearly the magical lighting and direction-obfuscation in the last chapter, and now this.

"Other men may fondly attribute their lack of success to a fault in the world, rather than to their own poor scholarship." "But what is my reward for loving my art better than other men have done? For studying harder to perfect it?"

Ooooo burn! He's so catty. What an asshole (affectionate)! Not to say that the Society (and Foxcastle in particular) don't thoroughly deserve it, of course. Everyone in this room is so ready to be offended, they're actively looking for reasons. Their lives must be so incredibly boring that this is how they choose to entertain themselves, holy shit XD

Oh, god. This attorney guy. Robinson. He is so... He's something, alright. "He was so clean and healthy and pleased about everything that he positively shone, which is only to be expected in a fairy or an angel, but is somewhat disconcerting in an attorney." No kidding. And during the whole scene he's so... blandly inoffensive and faux-innocent and defferential that it puts my hackles right up. He is deeply unnerving to me.

'This would be only fair' he says, of a deeply unfair and rigged agreement designed solely to punish them. 'Then surely they would recognise magic when they saw it' he says, as if he's not perfectly aware that they've just been given an incentive to fucking lie about it. 'All your friends have done it' he says, as the only argument he can come up with to try and coerce Segundus into signing the agreement. (Once again, much respect to Segundus for not punching this guy in the face.)

Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. Creepy motherfucker.

I love the descriptions of scenery and environment in this book so much, they're so damn evocative:

"The very voices of York's citizens were altered by a white silence that swallowed up every sound." "The winter gloom was quite gone, and in its place was a fearful light; the winter sun reflected many times over by the snowy earth."

Oh. Hmm. I can't be sure, but I think this is the first time the narrator has inserted themself quite so blatantly into the narrative. Things have been couched as observations before, but I don't remember before this the narrator actually referring to themself, or directly addressing the reader, or positing an opinion of their own? (I may have to go back and listen to chapter 1 again to check...)

"brooding blue shadows of the cathedral's west face" "sailing magisterially around the corner like a fat black ship" "he had a strong thin face with something twisted in it like a tree root" More great description and more adjective-adjective-noun phrases.

And then we come to Segundus and Childermass's second first meeting. Again, I feel so bad for Segundus, having his mind and memory messed with like this, but, if you'll excuse me a moment, -shipper goggles on- Segundus still remembers him! "I've seen you... I can picture you! Oh, where?" Can't remember so much as taking down the books that so enthralled him in the library never mind reading them, but he remembers Childermass.

"He thought John Childermass very insolent." Aaaaa, that's my blorbo! He's so cheeky, I love him so much.

"Several looked about them before going inside, as if taking a last fond farewell of a world they were not quite sure of seeing again." And we end the chapter on yet another absolutely magnificent line. Not quite the almost-cliffhanger of the first chapter, but still extremely tantalising, baiting the reader with questions about what, exactly, is going to happen next.

Hmm. Since this one isn't quite as long as chapter 1, I think I'm going to stuff chapter 3 in here, too; try and condense things a little bit XD

Chapter 3 - The Stones of York (February 1807)

"The cold of a hundred winters seems to have been preserved in its stones and to seep out of them." I have been in old churches and this is entirely accurate. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the description in this book is really top tier. Simple, but incredibly evocative and poetic.

"Bells often went with magic, and in particular with the magic of those unearthly beings, fairies." More symbolism, and this one I know less about, but at the same time, it feels right in a way I can't actually explain. Just that the vibes, the atmosphere it creates of bells being this ominous sound associated with something dangerous.

That being said, on thinking about it, I find it very odd that bells are symbols of fairies in this book for two reasons. One is the way that humans often get referred to as 'Christians' as a whole (I remember this gets explained later as a consequence of fairies being bad at telling the difference between humans, I think?), and church bells are the most commonplace example of bells I can think of. So why, then, are bells so specifically associated with fairy magic when there's such a strong connection to the way the book talks about the people who are not fairies?

And also, one of the primary uses of bells, with more significance in the past but with the tradition continuing on to this day, is to tell the time. To put order and structure on the otherwise abstract passing of the day. Which is in direct contrast to everything else we've been told about magic so far. Magic thrives in the places that are not structured to suit humans. Trying to impose scientific reason on magic kills it.

...Okay, I am definitely reaching here, but it just occurred to me that the other primary use of bells is as a warning. I can think of a bunch of examples; ye olden ships and fire-engines, castles and forts and such. All used to say 'something is wrong, action must be taken to avoid disaster'. And that makes me wonder if the bells are less a product of the fairy magic and more, perhaps, some other magic acting as an alarm.

And the only person I can think who could have cast such a wide-reaching, long-lasting spell would be the Raven King. And wouldn't that make sense? Wouldn't a King want to have a warning that some other being is trying to abduct one of his people?

...I'm reaching, but I really like this theory actually. Even though we knew the Raven King had no compunctions about stealing his own subjects away himself. (I still think it fits, as a King would feel entitled to privileges that others would certainly not be permitted.)

Which is a whole 'nother thing I have thoughts on. It's very interesting that the second real bit of information we get about him (after the bit about him having 'only three' Kingdoms being mentioned in one of Norrell's books. I think that's the only time he's actually directly named before this?), is that despite being an Englishman, he has the fairy habit of abducting people to other lands. And that ballad about it!

"The priest was all too worldly, Though he prayed and rang his bell, The Raven King three candles lit, The priest said it was well."

What is this? What does it mean? It does answer a bit of my speculation about bells, I think - they're used as a warning/warding off it seems (given that it's paralleled with praying) - but then there's that bit about the Raven King lighting candles and this, presumably, causing the priest to say 'oh alright then, do carry on'? I'm gonna have to keep my eye out for any more candle symbolism as well, I think.

"This land is all too shallow, It is painted on the sky, And trembles like the wind-shook rain, When the Raven King goes by."

-shakes fist at the author- You weren't content giving me chills with your description in prose, now you're doing it in verse?! -weeps- God. God. I don't have words for how this makes me feel. I am going fucking feral. I want to print this song out so I can eat it. Fuck.

And it's followed up by the narrator absolutely roasting the Magicians of York, which is making me cackle far more than it probably should because I'm still high off that absolutely unnecessary bit of poetry.

I love the way the narrative builds up to the magic. We get the bells, and then a voice, and then what it's saying, and then another one, and then that it comes from a statue, and then the rest of them, and between all of it we get these elaborate descriptions of the magicians reactions and fears.

Going back a little bit. The tale of the girl with the ivy leaves in her hair. This coming in the very next chapter after we were told that magicians are associated with ivy I think can't be a coincidence. And I wonder if the girl being a magician might not be a part of why the stones care so much about her murder? Not that I think murder inside a cathedral is all that common, but I find it hard to believe it only happened once in over 500 years.

"Kings, even stone ones, dislike above all things to be made equal to others." Hmm. Given how many Kings we have this story, I have a feeling this is Significant.

The fact that the stone statues that were to be repaired flinched from the chisel is... Oof. The idea of stone having a concept of harm, enough to fear it, is wild. And it raises the question of how... aware of what they are the statues are. Obviously we have the examples of kings bickering and quarrelling because they do believe themselves to be kings. But are they aware that they are statues of kings, or do the truly believe themselves to be those kings? The first statue seems aware, talking about how 'no one saw but the stones', instead of 'I saw'.

And if they know that they're stones, then... what does it say that they're afraid of the very thing that created them in the first place? Or is the fear of being 'remade' into something different? Is it particular to that statue, and another might welcome the chance to transform?

...Apparently I am my father's child.

My dad: But what is it like to be a tree??? -overthinks it- Me: But what is it like to be a stone??? -overthinks it-

I love this conversation between Segundus and Childermass. Childermass is coming at the thing so side-ways and sneaky, and yet... he's so blatant about it? It's so obvious right from the very start that he's leading up to something, and then he just... waits for Segundus to offer, instead of actually just asking? It's such a weird approach to take.

Also, the fact that we get another of those lovely poetic descriptions of the snow and the clouds as Childermass is waiting really gives the sense of a long drawn-out silence, and I can't help but laugh at the idea of this bizarre little stand-off, these two men just... staring at each other in the snow.

-shipper goggles on- "Until all the world contained was the falling snow, the sea-green sky, the dim grey ghost of York Cathedral... and Childermass." Perhaps it's an aspect of the audiobook that doesn't come through quite as strongly in the text, but the weight put on that last? Putting him on the same level as these... rather ephemeral, magical things, the natural phenomena of the snow and the sky, and the 'ghost of York Cathedral'? As well as the contrast of these... pale, dim, ghostly things, to Childermass who's so often described as dark and ragged. Even without that description here, it makes his presence so stark against this hazy, light backdrop. (And all this implied to be from Segundus's persepective =3)

And then there's all those compliments Childermass pays Segundus once he's gotten what he wanted, too XD (Even if I do kind of get the sense that Childermass doesn't necessarily mean them entirely as compliments. I don't think he thinks very well of people who are too obliging, tbh.)

You know, this is very much my brain veering off into the wilds here, but the thing about Mr Honeyfoot pursuing the tale of the girl with the ivy leaves makes me think of... this idea I've had for a while, mostly inspired by a JSaMN fanfic, On the March, where Childermass 'wakes up' the Yorkshire moors, and the notion of how magic, which in this book is so tightly tied to nature and the wild, could so easily be affected by the location in which it's done.

And if a place like York Minster can be aware of what's going on even when magic isn't being done upon it... then are the stones aware of Mr Honeyfoots efforts on their behalf? Do they see, for whatever value of sight they possess, him fighting this battle for them, and does this earn him anything from them? Can a stone feel gratitude? Is there some reciprocity or good will there? Does Mr Honeyfoot forge a bond of some kind with, or win the favour of, the Stones of York Minster?

There's a fic in this somewhere. (Mr Honeyfoot gets into a disagreement inside the Minster, and a stone drops onto the head of his adversary. Crumbly old buildings, you know, someone ought to check and make sure it's not going to happen again!)

'The Last Magician in Yorkshire' Now there's a phrase you could build an entire other story around. Another quite powerful end to a chapter, though not quite as gripping as the last two.

Well, I'm glad these two were somewhat shorter than all my thoughts on chapter 1. And I'm now more than half way through this week's chapters. I hope I'll be able to get 4 and 5 done tomorrow (or later this evening, maybe, if I feel like it?)