#worldbuilding funtimes there in the beginning

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Down Among the Dead Men

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: Captivity, creepy whumper, abusive parent, magical whump talk

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Kira wore her body like a suit of armor beneath the old-fashioned dress she had been laced into. 

She could have made a point, she supposed, by refusing to perform the spell. Refusing to give Lord Wentworth the prettied-up face he was planning to make his son’s wife - but really his own, unless she did what he wanted and remade the marks holding the siren in unending bondage. 

The thought sent a chill down her spine, made bile rise in her throat.

She could have gone down the stairs in too-tight shoes, with her dress hanging wrongly off flat narrow hips and wrinkling over the missing bust it had been designed to politely emphasize,  yet clinging too tight to wider shoulders. She could have sat hunched over and tipped her head so the light always hit just so along the angular jaw she had unwillingly grown into and its hint of five o’clock shadow. 

She could have handed him all the harsher angles of masculinity she loathed and had worked so hard to learn how to undo every morning… but then she would not have gone down the stairs and towards the dining room feeling wholly herself. 

She would have felt off-balance, and losing your balance in a fight meant a knife to your throat before you ever raised your sword. She knew that much. 

She would not let Guilford Wentworth take away whatever advantage she had, and she certainly would not hand it over herself. Moving through the world in the body she wanted, the body that felt like hers, was the most important way she had protected herself in life. She needed that protection now.

Guilford Wentworth could stare all he wanted. His eyes could get no deeper than skin. 

Not yet.

Not ever, she reminded herself, as nausea flipped and twisted, wiping away her hunger. Don’t let ‘yet’ be a word in your mind. Let it be not ever. 

Kira Losna straightened her shoulders and spine, lifted her chin, and performed the spell. The intricate gestures that the spell required had been something she’d deciphered all on her own, and unlike nearly every other spell, she’d never had to use the paint to create it. She had always assumed it was because no one else had needed it as badly as she did, or maybe flattered herself with the idea that she was uniquely talented, but now… now, she wondered.

Was this wild magic? This shifting of shape, easing angles and encouraging curves?  

Wild magic, the siren had called melting the fork in anger. Wild magic had been what he named the sense of heat in her palms that scorched the wall. Wild magic was the sort wielded by the children of gods, like the sirens who guarded oceans, dryads in the sprawling tai forests and the drendu in the rivers, the lumbering trolls in caves, the pahlomar in the thin air of the mountains to the far south… the children of the gods. Not… humans, whose magic has been stolen painstakingly through centuries of learning just the right symbols to pull its threads from the world around them. Wild magic was a power whose roots went deeper than trees and twisted through the currents of rivers, spread with the mycelium of fungi, spanned the huge breadth of the grand oceans and sang to the moon with wolves. Wild magic had been the siren’s birthright. The painted runes on the siren’s skin had twisted and corrupted that power from its natural state and made into a weapon in Guilford Wentworth’s hands.

Kira had never heard of such a thing before - and her heart went cold with horror any time she let herself think too long about how quickly men would leap upon the chance to take their own wild magic, if they knew it could be done. Humans had only what they could take, the inherent magic in them was so slight and faded it could do little more than warm a cup of coffee.

Then again, Kira had changed her body to suit her mind.

No one else had ever been able to do that, either.

Still, she was only human. Whatever strange magic Kira had must be something else. It was only that the siren knew only the one kind and couldn’t see beyond it. There were no humans with wild magic. 

Were there? 

Through all these thoughts, the servant girl Nadette had laced her up as if utterly unaware of her distraction. Nadette ignored how her hips suddenly curved out beneath her skirts, her bust filled the fabric, and acted as if she never saw the way Kira’s jaw softened. Maybe she had been spelled not to notice them by the siren on Lord Wentworth’s command. Or… maybe she was simply kind enough to see Kira as she was, not as birth had mistakenly formed her. 

Instead, Nadette had been chatty, rambling with excitement about a new horse in the stables, a purebred that was all long lines and impressive speed. Bit of a bastard to handle, but the stableboy had him well in hand. “Lord Wentworth likes his horses spirited,” Nadette said brightly, finishing the laces carefully, ensuring Kira could still breathe well and deeply. “He likes them to be fighters.”

“Oh, does he?” Kira heard herself answer, her voice wobbling a little. Her thoughts raced ahead in time, threatening to drag her down. 

“Oh, yes.” Nadette hummed, helping to pull the longer-sleeved overdress up, lightly belted at Kira’s narrow waist. It was all so… fussy. But Kira had to admit that it seemed somewhat difficult to stab someone through all these layers of boning and heavy fabric. “His lordship always says that if they don't fight back, then it's hardly worth the breaking of them. It is a harsh way to see them, I know, but his horses do all go on to win the races…”

Some part of Kira wanted to bark out harsh laughter, but she held it inside, staring at herself in the mirror. “That does sound like him,” She replied, her voice trembling with suppressed hysterical humor. 

Nadette pulled her hair back and away from her face, caught with a ribbon that tried more or less in vain to contain the weight and wildness of it. Kira could only wish her the best.

Nadette stepped back, giving her a careful look up and down, and then smiled. “I think you’re ready. Should we go downstairs, Miss Losna? I believe the young men are already in the study waiting.”

Kira paused, turning to look at Nadette with her eyebrows slightly raised. “What? Young men?”

“Why, yes. Master Ford, of course-”

“Of course. Yes, I knew him, but who else? That b-... Lord Wentworth is not what I would call young…”

Nadette laughed. “Oh, he would not like to hear you say it so honestly! Indeed, Master Ford brought a friend over.” Nadette gave her an impish, winsome little smile. “Likely hoping to have someone close to take the measure of you, ma’am. One always hopes that one’s friends will get along well enough with their intended.” 

The Ford she had met, by turns sullen and beseeching, seemed like he didn’t have a friend in the world. Kira tried to school her face, but wondered what other monsters she would have to meet here. What sort of friend Ford had who could be allowed to know what was being done here. What sort of evil person could be trusted to know she was held here against her will and still dine in style with Guilford Wentworth and his unwilling son?

“Of course,” She said, schooling voice and expression both into stillness. “Let’s go.”

Nadette fell in behind her as she stepped out into the hallway, walking past walls lined in paintings from over the past two centuries. Kira had to admit Guilford Wentworth was a slimy wretch who had an excellent eye for art. It was all beautiful. Landscapes of babbling brooks, mountains jutting harsh against the plain blue sky, children playing in rolling meadows and wheat fields seemed to blend all together with the occasional painting of a god’s child lingering in the shadows of its environment. 

One of the dead wives was in a painting, and she paused briefly to look. The wife and the woman beside her had very different expressions as they sat for the painting, watching a young girl on the floor. Eliza, Kira thought - that one was Eliza, the first wife Guilford had taken for himself by magic, smiling with a dreamy, far-away look that seemed not to see the beautifully decorated drawing room around her, or even her own child. Beside her, the other woman. Her expression was darker, sharper, seeing clearly. Atabei, Kira reminded herself. Her name had been Atabei, the first magician to give him the siren. 

“Will there-” Kira’s voice caught briefly in her throat, captured wholly by the look of something like the animal in a cage in Atabei’s face, masterfully writ in oil and brushstroke. “Will there be wine, at dinner, Nadette?”

She needed something to stop her hands from shaking. If there was no wine, she might scream, and scream, and never stop screaming.

Atabei’s eyes seemed to follow her as she moved. A chill down her spine and - she must be imagining it - a whisper of a smell like jessamine flowers from the colonies. 

She would go mad here, surrounded by the women who had gone mad before her. 

If there was no wine-

“I assume so, Miss Losna.” Nadette didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “Shall I go ahead and pour you some?”

“Please,” Kira whispered, pathetically grateful. Atabei, she thought once again. Atabei, a woman knowing the very make of the bars of her cage but unable to undo the lock. Her future, reflected back at her from two centuries in the past. 

Or perhaps she would be the pretty wife, Eliza with her dreamy far-away smile, her mind undone by the stroke of a brush and the siren’s song.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the wineglass as Nadette poured the deep red liquid into it. Her heart tried to race itself around her chest, and the world threatened ominously to spin.

Kira steadied herself as best she could and drained the cup in a few short gulps. She drank so much so fast she had to wipe drops from the corner of her mouth before they could run and stain her dress, bloodied tears.

“Thank you,” She said, hoarsely, and held the emptied glass out. “Another, please.”

Nadette paused, with the stem of the glass held carefully in her fingertips. Her eyebrows delicately raised in surprise. “Miss Losna…?”

“Please, Nadette.” She swallowed, her mouth already tacky with the overdone fruit-flavor, the wine too sweet, too heavy. But it was wine all the same. “Please.”

“... Yes, Miss Losna. Of course.” Nadette frowned, laying a hand on her arm. “Miss Losna, are you-”

She stopped.

Kira had looked away, unable to bear it if the pretty servant girl judged her for needing the courage wine could give. But now she looked back, and gods help them all… she saw as the contented fog that seemed to always cloud over Nadette’s eyes seemed to clear. “... Miss Losna-... Oh, oh no.” Nadette pulled back, eyes suddenly so wide Kira could see the white ringing them all around. Tears set them to glimmering like marbles with a spike of terror. “Oh-” Her voice was air, and then she grabbed back onto Kira’s arm with both hands, this time so tightly her fingernails pressed divots into Kira’s sleeves and the skin beneath. “Miss Losna, I-... I don’t want to be here-” 

Hope bloomed in Kira, as painful and deadly as any blade through the ribs. 

“I know,” She soothed, moving to peel back Nadette’s fingers one by one. “I know, it is the siren’s song, the magic. I know. The magic is fading, but it will take you over again soon. If you could just do one thing for me-”

Nadette didn’t quite seem to hear her. “I remember, Miss, I remember… it’s not a sea serpent at all! It’s-”

“I know!” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and Kira winced, pitching her voice to just above a whisper again. Warmth was in her cheeks and shoulders, the wine or the possibility of some escape from this beautiful hell. “I know,” She said again. “I know what he is. But listen, you must listen to me while you can hear me clearly, Nadette. Can you hear me clearly?”

Nadette swallowed, blinking back her tears. “I-... yes, Miss, I can hear you.” Her voice was thin and trembling, but her chin raised up, and Kira could have kissed her for that steel courage she showed beneath the fear that must feel all-encompassing.

“Wonderful. Listen to me closely. Go upstairs,” Kira whispered, her eyes flickering away towards the dining room, then back to the servant’s growing horrified comprehension. “Find me a window with no bars, one I can climb out of. Let me know which window it is. Write it down and put it under my pillow. I can fix this, I can free us all, but only with my tools and he has taken those from me and he will force me to remake the magic strong again. If I am not here, if I escape, he cannot do that and it will fade away and you will all be free. Find me a way out. Go, Nadette, please!”

Nadette did not move at first, only stood there. In a face that had gone ashen pale and a little green, two red spots glowed along her cheekbones. How long this break in the spell would last, Kira couldn’t begin to know. There was no time for Nadette’s terror. “You’ll leave? But-”

“Find the window! Go!” Kira grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back towards the stairway, and watched the girl take her skirts up in one hand and run. 

Please, whoever may hear me when I pray, let the clarity last long enough.

She shouldn’t have turned her back on the door to the dining room. She felt his eyes on her before he even spoke, the slimy bastard. At least he would not surprise her. She was still struggling to get her breath under control, one hand over her stomach, when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Miss Losna.” She could see a slick of oil on an ocean surface in his voice, hear it in the lilt of his falsely lordly accent. “Where is Nadette?”

Kira raised her chin and turned around, forcing her voice into a perfect calmness even as her heart raced too fast, left her dizzy for lack of air, her mouth tacky with the aftertaste of that terrible wine. “I sent her back to my room to bring me my book,” She lied, and somehow - thank the gods she believed in and the ones she didn’t - her voice was steady, even, and strong. “As I don’t intend to be much of a conversationalist, and whatever prisoner you kept before me was quite the reader.”

Guilford hummed, seemingly offended, and offered her his arm. Kira stared at it, then swept past him.

One thing to say about the heavy skirts, they absolutely made it easy to hold up your chin and feel as powerful as any queen as a man had to step out of your path to avoid being simply bowled over by their volume. Kira felt every bit of her womanhood, inside and out.

When she stepped into the dining room, Ford - seated facing her and with a glass of something that was very much not wine in his hand - pushed himself to his feet with a scrape of his chair, inclining his chin and leaning slightly forward. It wasn’t a bow, but it wasn’t not a bow either. “Miss Losna. You look lovely tonight.”

His voice was slightly slurred already with drink.

She envied him.

Seated just to the right of the head of the table was-

The siren.

Ah.

Ford’s friend. Just another spell, another bit of magic to hide from the servants what it was that truly gave Guilford Wentworth his power and influence. 

The siren was slightly slumped in his seat, insolent hostility in his expression, although some of it faded as he looked up at her. He didn’t stand, or fake a bow. He didn’t even speak. All he did was look at her.

And yet it felt far warmer than Ford’s practiced manners.

“Good evening to you both,” She said, moving quickly so that Wentworth, who had come up behind her, had no reason to touch her to try and get her to move further into the room. She chose a chair and sat, graceless but it was worth it to catch a glimpse of Wentworth’s hand hovering, having expected to push her in and having lost his chance.

She saw something cold in his face. It was there and then gone, replaced by genial good humor, but Kira knew that look very, very well in certain men and women with ideas of what belonged to them. She was a toy not playing by his rules, and that could be a very dangerous kind of toy to be. 

So she took a deep breath, until she felt the reassuring stability of the boning in her corset against her ribs - the strong lacing keeping her back upright. “What is being served tonight?” She asked, simply to break the silence.

“Mmmn, roast pork I believe,” Ford responded. His eyes were more than a little glassy, and she wondered when he’d begun drinking. Or if he ever really stopped. He was younger than Kira, he shouldn’t be living in his cups like this.

Except maybe that was his only way of surviving in this house. 

Babbage came in, alongside two more servants whose names Kira hadn’t yet learned. All of them wore the same sweet, soft, fogged-over smiles that Eliza had worn in the painting of her. Before them all was settled a small bowl of a vibrant green puree with a spiral of white, lightly steaming. Kira could smell something garden-fresh. 

“Spring pea soup,” Babbage announced. “With fresh cream.”

“Lovely,” Wentworth said, in the most genuine tone she’d heard him take yet. Kira, moving on pure thoughtless instinct, picked up her spoon, letting the green just touch the tip of the metal. Ford and Guilford picked their own spoons up as soon as she did and began sipping, Guilford humming happily and Ford clearly trying to sneak as many drinks from his glass as he could between bites of soup. 

The siren stared at his bowl as if it might grow three heads and bite him. 

She had to admit, once she gave in and lifted the spoon fully to her mouth, that the spring pea soup was indeed delicious.

Clearly, a very good cook indeed had been spelled into serving Guilford in his mansion. 

“What do you think, Miss Losna?” Ford spoke formally, but there was a hint of a lazy smile on him. Being in the same room as his father hadn’t quite undone him. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” She said, refusing to look at Wentworth, knowing she’d see only the smug arrogance on him now. “It’s very good. How can you grow these? It is out of season for them.”

“Oh, we keep greenhouses so I may have the best whenever I want it.”

“... Of course. Well, it is delicious. I must have the recipe for when I head back to my home.”

Guilford Wentworth laughed. Ford’s hint of a smile faded and he looked down and away. Kira found herself idly wondering what Ford was like when his father’s gaze wasn’t on him, when he wasn’t in this house, this monument to Guilford Wentworth’s hold on a magic he should never have been able to touch.

“And so you shall,” Guilford announced cheerfully. “Once our business is concluded, of course, hm? And you?” He turned back to the siren. “Take a bite, Areyto.”

Areyto didn’t look at Wentworth at all - he was looking at Kira, openly and without a gentleman’s knowledge to keep his stare less than direct. He shifted uncomfortably even in the simple, loose shirt he was wearing, one hand twisting idly as the fabric on his other sleeve, picking at it with blunt nails she knew could just as quickly be vicious, sharp claws. His hand moved and picked up the spoon, pooled some liquid in it, brought it to his mouth. Kira watched him fight back a heave when he sipped. The spoon dropped back to the plate, splatters of green droplets across the soft pale white.

“Well,” Guilford said, playfully chiding. “That was quite rude, don’t you think?”

Areyto’s gaze darkened. “I do not eat your soups,” He said, something very like a growl underneath the human words. “Your food. You know that.”

Kira cleared her throat, leaning forward. “Lord Wentworth, may I ask-”

Wentworth’s expression had chilled at the siren’s insolence, but it warmed once he looked back at her, not quite leering. “Anything, my dear.”

She shuddered, and fought down her disgust. “I mean only to ask… what does-... he eat? If he doesn’t eat what you do?”

“Him?” Wentworth smiled. “Oh, we keep a pond well-stocked in the labyrinth. I’ve taken to calling it after one of my sons, who unfortunately drowned in it one night. Dreft Pond. It’s the word for three in the language they speak in Lahssa. His lovely wife had been born there, she called him Dreft as a bit of a pet name, I think. He had taken such a risk, night swimming alone… no one to hear you when you drown-”

There was a clang of metal against ceramic.

Kira jumped, and she and Guilford turned to see Ford looking wide-eyed not with fear, but with a fury that seemed to overtake him all at once. “How dare you,” He hissed.

Wentworth’s eyebrows raised. “I beg your pardon?”

“How dare you make light of what happened to him! How dare you mock my father right here in front of me!” Ford pushed his chair back and shoved himself to his face. “My father was a good swimmer, he knew never to swim alone at night, he knew!”

Guilford was a shark smelling blood. His eyes were gone from Kira in a flash, and entirely on Ford. He was playing at a father’s righteous anger but the smirk on his face gave away how much he enjoyed the excuse. “This is unbecoming. Sit, boy.”

“I am not a boy! I am a grown man, and I will not stand for your slander against one who cannot defend himself now!” Ford stayed standing, hands on the tabletop, glaring daggers at Lord Wentworth with a strength Kira hadn’t known he possessed. “If you want my good manners and my kneeling and my bullshit lies to match yours, then don’t talk about my father like that! He was a good man! He tried so hard to be a good man! And you-... you-”

“I said,” Guilford said, voice low and menacing now, ”Sit down. You will not be so rude before our guest. You will not spread such gossip. I am your father.”

“You’re not! You never were!” Ford’s words were less speech than a wail of anger, drawn out by the drink but fueled by a hatred that Kira couldn’t take her eyes off of. It burned in him like summer wildfires, all out of control, leaving only skeletons and ash behind. He picked up the glass, nearly emptied, he’d been drinking from, and threw it.

Guilford had to jerk his head to the side to avoid it - even drunk, Kira noted with admiration, Ford had wonderful aim - and it hit the wall behind him and shattered, liquid dripping down towards the floor.

“Ford!” Guilford’s voice was a roar, now, shocked out of his arrogant amusement. He stood also. Kira stayed seated, her heart racing, and looked at the siren for help.

He watched the two men, too, but without fear. Only with the expression of someone who had watched something like this before, over and over again, and knows how it will end. 

Ford jabbed his finger in the air as if it were a sword. “You are not my father! You are the man who killed my father! He was your son! He, who you ordered to go into the water! Who you commanded your creature to feed on!”

Wentworth blinked. He went still. “What? How did you know-”

Ford laughed, hysterical and humorless. “You may have taken our mother’s memories of her husband, but you didn’t bother to take anything from Nathalie and I, did you? Didn’t even think of us as people who needed to be fooled!”

Wentworth was dumbfounded.

Kira found she enjoyed that very much.

Ford wasn’t done, though. He stalked down the length of the table until he stood only inches from Wentworth, on the other side of the siren’s chair, as if they kept the poor thing between them. “Tell me, are his bones still in the water? Are they? Did you command the siren to eat off all his skin, or was any left for the carrion feeders? Did my sister and I go to visit our father’s grave every time you told us to go and feed the fish? Did you think it was funny to have us do it? Did you laugh to see she and I at the very place where you murdered him?!”

Guilford swallowed, once. Twice. He seemed to be having some difficulty. “You will calm yourself-”

“No, I will not! I saw it all, you bastard.” Ford’s teeth were bared, as if he echoed the siren’s own anger even without the teeth to make the expression much of a threat. The siren, where he sat between them, looked… bored. But Ford’s finger was poking in the air again. “You, you ordered my mother to never remember her great love but you cared so little for my sister and I, you-... how dare you call me your son when you want to use me as you once used him!” 

Wentworth stepped closer, and - with the siren still sitting down in his chair between the two men - slapped his son across the face with a crack that echoed through the room, harsh as thunder. Kira half expected it to rattle the windows.

The blow sent Ford sideways onto the tabletop, slamming into it so hard he seemed stunned, plates and wineglasses rattling. Kira’s wine spilled across the white tablecloth with a bloody stain, and Areyto’s soup spilled over the side of the bowl. Ford was breathing harshly as he pushed himself back up. His sleeve was soaking wet now from the spilled water, one side of his face nearly scarlet from the force with which Wentworth had hit him. He took in a breath. 

“Oh,” Ford whispered. “I… I apologize. My outburst was… uncalled for.”

“You damn well should,” Wentworth said, voice low. Kira’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. 

“I… I shall take my leave,” Ford said in a strangled voice after a silence. “En-enjoy your dinner, Miss Losna. I-... I will tell Babbage I will finish in my room-”

“You will do no such thing,” Wentworth snapped. “Leave and starve.”

Ford stood, torn between instinctive obedience and whatever had propelled him to the fit of defiance in the first place. “I-”

“Get out of I shall have Areyto tell you to leave.”

Ford’s eyes went to the siren, who looked back at him impassively. Then he turned on his heel and stumbled from the room, hardly able to walk straight. Barely able to stand. Kira watched him go, and felt a wild, irrational urge to beg him not to leave her alone in here.

Not that he had much of a choice.

Even fewer choices than Kira herself had, really.

Something in Kira’s hint of hope faded as she watched Ford’s back disappear through the dining room doors and heard his shuffling, stumbling feet on the stairs.

“Disgraceful,” Wentworth muttered. “Absolutely disgraceful.” He seemed to come to some inner decision and sat back down, shaking his head as if shaking water from his ears. “He will regret that, later. Now.” He clapped his hands, one bright sound, and the door to the kitchens swung openly immediately and the three servants reappeared, nervously looking from one of them to another. “My son has chosen to leave early,” Wentworth said with false cheer. “Please clean up this mess and bring the next course, Babbage.”

“Of course, sir,” Babbage said, voice low, his eyes traveling over the debris on the table without comment. 

Areyto alone looked wholly unmoved.

There was a long pause that drew out heavy as they waited for the dirtied things to be cleared and clean ones to replace them. The next course was set down, a bit of bread with a white cheese spread atop it, slices of tomato and basil on the side and a drizzle of something dark, sweet and sour. Kira’s pounding heart had taken all the room from her stomach. 

Just as she thought she might scream just to break the silence, Guilford’s smile was back, as if nothing had ever happened. “Well, Miss Losna, you must tell me how the weather has been lately in your own hometown.”

Kira stared at him, her mind suddenly empty of everything but a confused screeching. “... what? The-... the weather? You want to talk about the weather?”

“The weather,” Guilford said brightly, “Or your upcoming wedding. You choose.”

A beat passed.

Then Kira exhaled, slowly. 

“... The weather has been a little too warm this year…”

She had to find a way out of here, and soon.

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp  @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes  @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10   @apokolyps  @wildfaewhump  @shrimpwritings  @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee  @angelsproject

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: october 2023

hi everybody!!! things (by which I mean everything) have been a little bit hectic lately (by which I mean it feels like everything is one fire 100% of the time), which I guess explains why I'm late posting this AND why I only finished four books in all of October.

I would be very sad about this if the number of books I read had any correlation to my value as a person, but luckily it doesn't! so I don't give a shit, I am literally just vibing and trying to have a good time reading my silly little stories. here's a book report about it.

what I've been reading:

The Goblin Emperor (Katherine Addison, 2014) - okay, so picture this: you're the fucking elf king's least favorite son. you're not a bastard, but he didn't love your mom and after she died he basically banished you to a miserable little estate in bumfuck nowhere with no one but your abusive older cousin for company. probably he was going to leave you out there forever and hope that you would die quietly so no one would ever have to remember you existed. (un)fortunately, your shitty dad and all of his male heirs just died in a blimp accident and now you're the emperor. GOOD LUCK. this book is political fantasy of the highest order, with loads of machinations and intrigue and chewy worldbuilding interspersed with genuinely sweet moments between characters as one very good boy befriends his way to power. blah blah empires are inherently evil, obviously yes but this is a made up empire with 0 real consequences and Maia is my little dude. the only way I could love him more would be if he'd just nutted up and kissed his boy secretary on the mouth.

Happy Hour (Marlowe Granados, 2020) - I kept seeing this book enthusiastically as kind of a light fizzy funtime celebrating being young and free and running around New York City with no plans, and man... that was not my experience! Isa and Gala are maybe the most stressful girls I've ever encountered in fiction: perpetually broke and hungry, absolutely lacking in direction or ambition, always ricocheting listlessly from one situation to another in search of a good time and mostly only discovering disappointment, I need these girlies to get their lives together for my sake as a reader. there's one scene in particular where Isa is crashing with some disgustingly wealthy friends at the beach and keeps getting callously dismissed while sweating profusely and trying to figure out how she's going to convince them to keep paying for her food and it was so visceral that I developed a second, worse anxiety disorder because of it. Granados' writing is stylish, to be sure, but drama was not worth it for me.

The Magpie Lord (KJ Charles, 2013) - this historical fantasy romance is quick, dynamic, and horny. I can't actually say that I'm particularly charmed by the quality of the writing, which is there to hurtle you at warp speed between scenes of homoeroticism and bald exposition about magic, but I do admire Charles' panache. the book opens on a rather gruesome scene of our protagonist, Lord Crane, attempting to slit his own wrist; it quickly becomes clear that this isn't because he's genuinely suicidal, but because he's been cursed by persons unknown in an attempt to drive him to ruin. enter Stephen Day, a magic practitioner who hated Crane's deceased father and brother but is determined to help him all the same. some plot happens, but also a lot of flirting and (spoilers) sex that comes with an actual power-up for Stephen due to the wonders of blood magic. a pulpy good-time all around, and short enough that it doesn't overstay its welcome.

The Fervor (Alma Katsu, 2022) - The Fervor is a historical horror with a tantalizing premise: in the 1940s, Japanese demons begin to manifest inside of an Idaho internment camp for Japanese-Americans, adding a swirl of the supernatural to a situation that's already rife with mundane horrors. the actual execution is... lacking. Katsu's prose is blunt at best; when I call it "unsubtle" I don't mean the way some racist might mean when they inevitably go on a ramble about how Katsu beats her readers over the head with how racism is bad. racism is bad, duh, and it's hardly unrealistic to emphasize the fear and hatred that dogged the lives of Japanese-Americans during WW2. when I say this book is unsubtle I mean Katsu approaches each chapter like her readers have maybe forgotten everything they read leading up to that moment; you will be reminded frequently of characters' names, relationships, and straightforward motivations. and yet, somehow, the actual plot is still pretty murky. much is hinted at in the protagonist's past in Japan, then never actually elucidated, a main POV character falls clean out of the plot without resolution just before the climax, I still don't know what was up with those goddamn demon spiders. disappointing!

there was also one very specific, GLARING thing in the ending of The Fervor that I did not care for in the slightest, but that's tucked away on my Patreon in the monthly hater post. pay me if you want to hear about some CRAZY copaganda!

[silverxcristal]

I only picked up new FNAF designs on tumblr but I have two questions

1: what is this new FNAF game?

2: is Freddy a good guy in the game? I see all this art where he is not trying to actively track down and kill the player

//hands you the current FNaF lore under the read more

1. The next FNaF game is “Security Breach”, made by SteelWool Studios for consoles + pc. Like this is made by a company with Scott Cawthon’s supervision (the indie creator).

This is their second game (First one being FNaF VR: Help Wanted (And the DLC: Curse of Dreadbear)) and is somewhat a continuation of that one worldbuilding speaking.

Is somewhat complex resume whats going on so i’ll be as basic but bold as posible: 

After the 6th game everything burn down and every animatronic and soul and human died. The end. The owners of Freddy’s want to keep doing his buisness so they hire a Indie Developer to make horror games based on all that happened, so people think is nothing but a silly horror game with jumpscares- and after that got popular Fazbear Entertainment “sue them” and announce that they will be back in buisness to clean their name over this lies.

They make a VR videogame based on the FNAF games (Help Wanted) and begin to build a Mall with new animatronics called the Glamrocks (Security Breach). They pick all the things that didnt fully burn and send them to the VR devs to scan the pieces and be faster making the game... and something happened as they did so, and now there is a weird, glitchy creature on a golden rabbit costume being all weird in the game-

His name is Glitchtrap and he will attempt to possess your body to control you. We are... unsure what the heck he is, there are theories that is the killer’s spirit (who always wear/is tied to a golden rabbit animatronic), other theories say that since they scan old mech, they were cursed and based on the bad memories and aura this creature was created out of that, but is not really tied to Mr Afton?? Not sure, stinky ratman.

In the game youre supposed to get rid of him and delete it form the code but is unsure what happened in the end (different endings). And with the DLC you get introduced to a new character that is named “Vanny” who is a “reluctant follower” of Glitchtrap and mentions that she will follow his orders (we dont know whats going on?!?!?!). There is a whole ass theory that there is a William Afton (the killer) cult of crazy people jklhaskd

Vanny gets a fursuit and is been showed in the Security Breach teasers and trailer that she is part of that game-- so like uh oh

2. TODAY WE GOT CONFIRMED THAT THE GLAMROCK ANIMATRONICS ARE GOOD GUYS!!

To begin with: When the trailer came out we hear Vanny call for a kid called “gregory”, saying that she is sorry she lost her temperament and he should come out and go with her, that his friends are with her yadda yadda yadda (dont do it kid!!)

Near the end of the trailer we hear a male voice that says “Gregory, be still. I think she found us” that had been teased and- at this point we are 100% sure is Glamrock Freddy’s voice

We believe that because the voice actor Kellen Goff posted that line of audio on his social media right after the trailer drop. Kellen had voiced Funtime Freddy and Fredbear before, and had voiced for regular Freddy. He ONLY voices the bears, so we all accepted is Glamrock Freddy.

From that came the theory that Glamrock Freddy will help the player/Gregory.

and... today it was confirmed!

Scott Cawthon mentioned that today Funko would reveal new merch that would show part of the game mechanics

And is this beauty

GREGORY IS HIDING INSIDE GLAMROCK FREDDY, AND WE HAVE THE TRAILER OF HIM WARNING GREGORY THAT THEY GOT CAUGHT

GLAMROCKS (at least Freddy) ARE ALLIES AND WILL PROTECC THE KID!!!

[fistsoflightning]

stories you want to write...

...but for some reason haven’t yet.

tagged by: @to-the-voiceless​!!! thank you cyan for giving me the opportunity to dump out my slightly dusty idea doc onto everyone’s dash sdgsndfnsdfn

tagging: hmmm... @windupnamazu​ (double tag yes yes) @whitherliliesbloom​ @windup-dragoon​ @heirsofdiscord​ @ancientechos​ and you! as you can see, i like fic concepts >:3c

1) okay, so. there’s a section of my idea doc that’s labeled ‘azim steppe shenanigans’ because i Can and Will rewrite as much of the azim steppe MSQ as i please including characterization (yes i’m looking at magnai) ANYWAYS. top idea of the list, which is also the one i want to write The Most, is the naadam duty rewrite! catch me on the ‘why is the wol the khagan of a land they probably don’t even belong to’ train, more news on how zaya and oktai beat up hien at 11. or whenever i get around to writing it since it has Combat and i’m. not the best at it. honorable mentions to the pre-canon sadu, magnai, and zaya tearing through bardam’s mettle fic and the solar eclipse remix that i don’t currently have the energy for ;W; sorry oktai and magnai you’ll have to reside in “are we actually. dating.” hell for a bit longer

2) second on this list is the ‘ysayle lives’ fic!!! honestly there is a whole ass series sitting in my idea doc that also includes moenbryda, papalymo, and maaaybe bad-end flavored minfilia lives? but the ysayle one is like. 60% done but i need to trash and restart since i don’t. like it that much. highlights include: ysayle but a little more dragon flavored, separation of iceheart vs. ysayle, and gratuitous earth imagery versus the ice of coerthas

oh god okay im sticking the rest under a cut this got. Long

3) there is also a section of my doc labeled ‘angst elie isn’t allowed to have as a treat’ because at this point all of mom squad deserves to swing a bat straight for my head, buuut the idea i’m looking at is lightwarden au related! funtimes. ehsk al, anyone? (yes that means either promised love or love’s promise in dragonspeak. yes there’s a reason for this.) the line keeping this idea’s spot is: “ thancred climbs up mt. gulg one final time to meet the mourning dragon.” :)))

4) i want to go more into the various different cultures of my wols!!! i detest the lack of ala mhigan lore (monk lore too. i’m Salty about SB) which is why i haven’t gone into dewah’s family that much but i have an idea and some minor worldbuilding in the making? there’s also lumelle, whose emotions on ishgard are (as all emotions are) complicated, and zaya, who hasn’t been home in a literal decade give or take. i have to think real hard for it tho sdgnsdfsd that’s why they’ve been collecting dust for months.

4.1) the amount of hrothgar and viera lore is also criminal. don’t make me homebrew more lore squeenix give us Actual Lore. duscha and valdis deserve More.

5) okay i. i am very embarrassed by this but i have a longfic draft for a fic that at this point legally has to be tagged “slow burn, if by slow burn you mean 18 years” whenever i finish enough to be able to start posting it and YES ITS ZAYA AND THANCRED. 

yeah. i know. this has been haunting me since ffxivwrite last year-ish. it is also very D U S T Y but it has about 15 different ideas i’ve just mass dumped into it and i despise it and myself. additionally some ardbert feelings slipped into the SHB bits and i’m. maybe unrequited ardbert/zaya.... mayhaps

6) i love carbuncles and i love dt’s writing about the carbuncles which may have led to the thought bunny “what if: black opal carbuncle for zaya’s nameday” and it has haunted me but since zaya’s nameday in real time was a day off from the 5.3 drop it promptly got buried under all the ideas i got from 5.3

7) SPEAKING OF 5.3 CONTENT: carmela predicted correctly that i would like the ‘you’re a long way from home, moogle’ interaction you get if you choose the option that has kupo when talking with thancred and i’m possessed. i want to write something surrounding zaya’s honorary postmoogle title and thancred finding out they spent three weeks delivering eorzea’s mail.... there’s a bunch of canon rewrites but for multiple WOLs i’d like to do but i’m Tired

8) rhmrhrr.... AU time! main street au is still haunting my bones and i want to write more because mom squad spent like. an hour talking about how it’s just like dime store romance fiction amassed into an entire au and there’s a certain flowershop romance i need to write >:3 there’s also the ol’ CHB AU hanging around Somewhere and a very small part of me that craves to keep writing hanahaki au which is just slowburn 2.0

9) OH WAIT. i have Exactly One idea that’s mostly npc-based which is just me having feelings about the going-ons of norvrandt before the WOL is summoned, mostly revolving around ryne/baby-filia which i think? will have four parts? it’s really just me worldbuilding with norvrandt and having a great time. i scribbled down a beginning to try and shake off some rust (it did not really work) but:

10) honorable mention goes to the ‘zaya, thancred, and co. give ryne a nameday celebration despite her not really having a nameday’ idea and to this, which never fails to give me a chuckle when i read it in my idea doc:

[ramblyravingnnjashark]

Nier Automata - Genius and Madness

the works of Yoko Taro are something that have eluded me for most of my life, and that I have given very little attention to. Probably for good reasons because from the outside, the gameplay of his games range from Mediocre to Average at best and I consider myself a very "gameplay First" person. Some of my Freinds would rave about Drakengard and how weird it is but that didnt quite convince me to look into them much further. However, one Fateful Day a little game called "Nier Automata" was announced, a sequel to Yoko Taros Xbox 360/PS3 game Nier with a little line of Text that would change things in an instant

                                   "Developed by PlatinumGames"

now friends of mine will know that, PlatinumGames is one of my alltime favourite Game Devs for their Crazy High skill Character Action Beat em up titles, containing Larger than Life characters and great and tight Gameplay that owes their roots in the Arcade games of old, which is something I have a appreciation for.

So, with a combination like this I finally decided to take on this series, by means of watching Youtube essays about it because goddamn, the gameplay in these games can get rather mind numbing sadly but honestly? Yoko Taro mighta earned himself now a nice cushy place as one of my favourite Directors, right next to  Hideki Kamiya and Hideo Kojima themselves.

But there is one thing I realised from watching these Essays and actually playing one of them it is one thing to watch a guy sum this series up for you, its a whole different thing to watch the Insanity for yourself

because the works of Yoko Taro arent stories about Heroic Knights slaying Demons and Evil Dragons, or Loving Fathers/older Brothers trying to survive the Fall of Humanity with their Daughters/Little Sisters

they are stories about Love, Hate, War, the meaninglessness of the Universe and the Hope growing from it, what it means to be Human, and what it means to lose all reason and go complete and genuinely Mad

(there will be spoilers, so be warned if you wish to expirience these games yourself!)

so originally, this was gonna be a brief recap of Drakengard and Nier, but then I realised I couldnt do these games justice so I just link this and this recap of these games that should give you a good idea what these games are about but to keep it brief

Drakengard is essentially to RPGs what Evangelion was to Mecha Anime, and thats a fairly approviate comparsion when you just look at, this

its also notable for how it handles its different endings, usually referred to as Ending A, Ending B etc, Ending E of the first Drakengard game was a Joke ending that nontheless became the basis for the setting of Nier, a ruined Planet Earth set hundreds of years after the Fall of Humanity about a Father (in the Western Releases) or a Older Brother (Japanese release) having to fend for himself and his Daughter/Younger Sister in a world under constant threat of creatures known as Heartless Shades

both these games are interesting, because their gameplay is nothing special, in the case of Drakengard its outright terrible,they got mediocre reviews and poor sales and yet these games have a dedicated Cult following and  tons of Novels, Audio Dramas, Manga and even Stage Plays that expand the Universes of these games and its lore

and thats for a simple reason: these games may have mediocre gameplay but, their Stories, their Characters, their Art Direction is actually of fairly high quality featuring intriguing Characters and worldbuilding that makes you invested in them regardless I mean, theres a entire exchange in Nier thats entireley between two Magical Talking Books for cryin out loud, and its one of the best parts of the game!

however, these games have thus far had a life as just that, Cult Classics, that didnt manage to garner a mainstream audience due to its aforementioned quirks, the Gameplay just could never stand up to the well written stories of these games

this is where PlatinumGames comes into play

now, the gameplay of Automata I honestly felt like was more on par with what Revengeance offered: there is stuff you can do with it but all in all its below the likes of Bayonetta and Devil May Cry 3 but thats not to say its poor, of course not, it doesnt encourage you to try anything other than just Mash about, but thats Fine, theres also Chips that your characters can even equip Chips that enhance their abilities and giv e them new ones such as a Bayonetta style Parry and Witch time or give them Heals upon Killing the enemy and while the actual enviroments can be a bit of a chore to go through (until you get Fast Travel), it still felt good to Parkour your way through them, nice snappy and smooth which gives me hopes they take a cue or two from this game for Bayonetta 3 in that regard at least

another thing I loved is the Soundtrack itself. Now I dont consider myself a musical person, however I can tell when a Song is used perfectly, and in Automata? Every Song is used to actual perfection. Music to me can be the deciding factor wether a Area or Scene in a Game or Movie is Garbage, Forgettable or Legendary, and for Automata, every song makes each area fall niceley into the latter fortunatly. One Standout track for me is Birth of a Wish (Become as Gods) a retake of an earlier song that adds in additional Chorus, and the Theme for Pascals village which is a cute Melody involving Children singing.

now onto the game itself, Route A puts you in the sexy and Lucious Thigh High boots of YoRHa Unit 2B, whereas Route B puts you in the cute Boy shorts of her Partner and mostly Good Boy YoRHa Unit 9S both tasked with ridding the world of Machine Lifeforms and making Earth inhabitable for the Humans stuck on the Moon again Both Routes play out roughly the same, 2B plays like a Standard Character Action Heroine with Lights and Heavies and such, whereas 9S is mainly focused around his ability to hack enemies and engage into brief SHMUP segments.

of the two I felt like 2B was a little more fun to play all in all, the Hacking was fine but also felt a teeny bit like a pace breaker but not too much, at least until late in Route B the game throws curvebals and unique hacking segments into the mix

a thing Yoko Taro games have been very good at showing, is showing the process of a Person losing their mental stability and throwing it all away to become a one track minded Mad Man and I find that interesting.

Drakengard had a good example when the Character Inuart completley loses it and becomes obsessed with bringing back his Dead Love interest, causing here to turn into the monster posted above. Automata meanwhile, shows this also but with Machines, being that shouldnt even go mad in the first place but become Insane with concepts like Revenge, Fear or other. Now I am not a Psychology Major or anything but I cant help but feel "this is Intriguing", not sure if thats a bad thing or anything but thats how it is.

now, Route C is where officialy the PlatinumGame ends and the Yoko Taro game begins, in that things become utterly, utterly Bleak. Not to say it was happy funtime before, many of the sidequests end on a very sour or outright terrible note, but here? Shits gon Bad!

YoRHa falls, everyone on the Protagonists homebase dies or becomes infected with a Virus that makes them go insane, 2B dies and 9S is severeley wounded and has his mental state utterly ruined by seeing 2B, his Love interest, die. from this Point onward, you play as Either A2, a former YoRHa gone Rogue and 9S as he tries to kill every last Machine Lifeform, and as hes utterly loses his mind. Focusing entireley on his one Goal so that maybe, he can find Death and be with 2B in the Afterlife.

this is where the game really became interesting to me. Gradually 9S goes from this sweet pure boy to a Violent Mess that only wants to Kill and Kill and Kill, Over and Over, its a Interesting Development for such a Character I feel. A2 meanwhile, while still a Great Character and a Blast to play, I felt like was severeley underutilized, getting very little playtime compared to 2B and 9S, with most of her greatest character Development limited to a Japan only Stage play that got a short text recap on a terminal. and it just goes from there and it keeps going, plot twists happen, reveals happen, callbacks to the first Nier and Drakengard 1 happen, its just this huge Mountain of themes and stuff to uncover and analyse. references to old Philosophers and the Concept of Nihilism itself ebing explored, little details that popped up in the early game and now have much greater meaning, its....actually incredible?

I dont think I ever played a game that had so much going on, the last time I think I did was, Metal Gear Solid 3, maybe?! I think....this might actually be one of the best written games I ever played?

and there is still so much content I could go through, the Stage Plays, the Novels, theres probably a buncha Audio Dramas for it too already its like, Jesus christ. and then theres Ending E, which while rather difficult (and probably causes at least 4 people to fucking hate my Guts) was probably one of the best ending sequences I seen in recent years, I'm not gonna go into detail what it is because, it needs to be seen to be belived, but I find it genuiley incredible.

I dont think theres a single game in the Drakengard and Nier series I would actually consider my "Favourite Game", maybe Nier Automata but thats up for consideration still, but I think I can safeley say that both games story as a whole is easily up there with Metal Gear as  one of my favourite Game stories out there, and friends and followers of mine would know by now how much I love that Franchise and its wacky insane story, Drakengard and Nier are special little series that you dont see enough of these days, but maybe thats for the better

I'm not gonna say "Nier Automata rekindled my love for video games" or anything, but I am glad I got to expirience these two series.