cloudkohv

[cloudkohv]

#so true to characterizations and better adheres to the themes that i felt were being set up regarding societal structures #the stormlight archive #stormlight archive#stormlight archive fanfic #kaladin stormblessed #moash

thank you so much for reading it! that was what I focused most on while i was tinkering with this, so I'm really glad those themes were able to come through. it means a lot. thank you :)

I redid the "boots scene" from Kaladin's perspective.

I have a lot of thoughts on the boots scene, but I figured this draft from a longfic project I'm working on might capture my thoughts to a reasonable degree. I began writing this longfic the more I found myself disagreeing with the series' arguments about and portrayals of societal upheaval during the apocalypse.

I would summarize the project as: Kaladin and Moash have been right the whole time (because let's be serious. They were) and it's time to cause more problems in the Alethi government. The fuel of revolution is building in Alethkar as Bridge Four continues to stoke tension among the highprinces and as class stratification grows among the Alethi people. Unfortunately the apocalypse is happening, and even more unfortunately, Kaladin and Moash have differing ideas on how to fight for justice.

And strangely... everything they've learned about Radiants has been a lie? Perpetuated by the monarchy?

There were a couple of scenes from the books whose "theses/conclusions" I disagreed with so strongly that I rewrote them, and this is one of them. I present to you my take on the boots scene [edited and cut down for length].

If you end up liking what you see here, I have another scene with my take on "The King was Dalinar's Tien" here :)

Excerpt

 “No apologies!” she barked, pointing at him. “Boots!” The horse bristled at the sudden shouting, while Kaladin leaned back in confusion. “Boots?” he repeated. “Yes,” she said. Her accent was terribly inconsistent, which made her all the more suspicious. “You are apologize with boots.” Kaladin found himself silent. Was he just stunned? “You want,” he spoke slowly, even hating how the words sounded coming out of his mouth, “my boots.”  “Did you not hear Her Highness?” the darkeyed attendant snapped. She narrowed her eyes at him in disdain. “Are soldiers of this Dalinar Kholin’s army so disrespectful?”  “I’m not disrespectful,” he said, his voice cool. “But I’m not giving her my boots.” Where any more or less dignified interaction should have ended here, it seemed it was only just starting for the ‘princess’, whose nostrils flared in anger.

 “You insult!” she shrieked, stamping her foot in the ground. “I will tell all who are to listen! When arriving, I will say, ‘Kholin is stealer of boots and taker of women’s virtue!’” He felt the hairs on the back of his arm stand.  “Virtue?” he exclaimed. He could feel his men’s eyes on him. They remained silent, as they were supposed to. But it didn’t feel like they should have. “Yes,” she said, folding her arms and cocking her head, as if she read his mind. Her light blue eyes grew cool above the smug smile on her face. Kaladin sucked in a small breath through his gritted teeth, allowing himself one glance at Moash, Ino, and Wendin. While the two younger bridgemen watched him curiously, Kaladin found Moash’s dark brown eyes brimming with barely concealed contempt. “Kal,” he said under his breath, as if ordering him to hold his ground. But Kaladin didn’t need any guidance against another lighteyes on a power trip. He’d gotten all the practice and education he needed for an entire lifetime. One thing he knew for certain was that there was little in the way of him getting strung up for such an accusation. A lighteyed woman’s word carried more power than any blade, and it was ever so effective against the word of a darkeyes. “Is no matter,” the princess sighed, her eyes never leaving his. “All will know what you have done in wronging me. You have laid me bare, here in this wilderness. Stripping me! Is an insult to my house and my clan. All will know that Kholin—”  “Enough,” he said, turning to face her. Cursed woman. Words and language warped around the whims of these people. It wasn’t disrespectful to demand a soldier for his boots, much less a stranger for his shoes, because it was ultimately a darkeyes who was meant to oblige. If it was a lighteyes asking, then there was no harm in them demanding their rights. In fact, any decent society punished those who infringed on the rights of others. What made theirs any different?

Kaladin looked towards the other caravans headed east, just dark smudges against the sunbaked plains in the distance, and didn’t dare look down as he reached over and pulled off the right boot. He felt the wind through the hole on the back of his sock, and for a moment it was as if he had woken up and was back to a life of running on stone and splintered wood. He pulled off the other, struggling with the horse’s twitchy movements as he tossed it down where it knocked over the other boot into the rocks. Kaladin straightened himself on his horse with whatever dignity he could muster, while the attendant made her way towards them with a triumphant smile. He betrayed himself with a look at the boots, and his polished reflection looked back at him wearing a resigned expression. “Apology accepted,” she said, roughly grabbing them from the ground. The dust kicked up onto the tops with just the gesture. He faced her, banishing the memory of him carefully polishing them by the firelight this morning. “By Damnation it better be,” he said. He tempered the thinly veiled annoyance in his voice, but his blood still boiled. “I’ll pass along your story and maybe we can get this place patrolled.” “Ka–" “Come on, men,” he said with a pointed look at Moash as he turned around. He needed to get away from this place. Kaladin nudged the horse somehow into a trot, and somehow it was going faster than before, as if it also wanted to be away from them. He was going the wrong direction, but he didn’t care. His hair fluttered away from his ears and his jacket billowed as he rode, carrying the wind with him. He took in another breath and expelled it, hoping to calm his jittering nerves. He’d gotten too comfortable the past few weeks. What was he thinking? It didn’t matter in the slightest that he was part of the royal guard for an Alethi highprince. The uniform was a pacifier for him more than it was of any use to the lighteyes. That delusional princess probably knew this, which likely made him more delusional than her. The breeze grew stronger as the horse picked up its speed into a gallop. He thought he heard laughter. He ignored it. Once he was far enough, Kaladin awkwardly managed to slow down the horse to a stop. It annoyingly kept bobbing its head around. “Captain,” Wendin began, and Kaladin felt the nerves spike again. Even the title was its own form of mockery. “I see more caravans coming up on this side,” Kaladin said, looking only at Wendin and Ino. “They seem to be in better shape. Wendin, go pass on the story to the guard up on the south side. We should be fine with just the three of us for now.” Wendin nodded once. “Sir.” He and his horse trotted off, and Kaladin’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Moash, however, was still watching him with those ever inquisitive eyes. “You’re not gonna say anything?” Moash said. The horse snorted with a jut of its head, causing Kaladin to wobble awkwardly on it before quickly catching his balance. Storming thing. He couldn’t wait to get off of it. “Go follow Wendin,” he said finally. “He’ll need help.”

Later in the evening, Kaladin was the last to get his stew after making sure everyone was in their positions for the night. He sat on a stone bench alone, close to the fire as he ate in silence, only made comfortable if he didn’t let his mind wander. Then, he heard footsteps approaching. Kaladin looked up to find Moash crouch on the ground next to him, facing the flames. “Those fit alright?” he asked. Kaladin turned his ankle in the new boots he got requisitioned from Leyten. The man looked surprised at how calm he’d seemed when he returned to the camp barefoot. “Yes.” “Great. So are you going to tell me why you let that stormleaving take your boots?” “I didn’t let her,” he said. “She took them.” “No, you let her. I thought you had the right idea until you just handed them to her.” “You weren’t paying attention?” Kaladin said, setting the stew down to look at Moash, eyebrows furrowed. “There was nothing I could’ve done. That’s just what they do.” He waited for the lecture from Moash that, mercifully, didn’t come. “It doesn’t matter. We still deserve some storming respect.” Kaladin turned back to his stew, picking it up and stirring it slowly. “I should’ve said something. Then at least she wouldn’t have been able to lie and get away wi–” “–No. You shouldn’t have,” Kaladin said. “If you did, you’d be in trouble for defending me.” “Then maybe we should have. It’ll teach them a lesson. They need us more than we need them, anyway.” A familiar panic struck him. Rama said that. He was one of the most confident people Kaladin had ever met. Loud and boisterous, even as a slave. He even saw that same confidence on his corpse. “Kal? You okay?” He caught himself, noticing now he was frozen. Kaladin shook his head and went back to mindlessly stirring his stew. He suddenly had no appetite and he needed something to do that was less suspicious than leaving dinner early. “I’m fine.” “You’re not the only one, you know. The other men, they’ve been telling me stories about–” Kaladin held up a hand, setting the bowl down again to face Moash. The firelight shone on his hopeful expression. But he saw that hope dim the longer Kaladin looked at him. “I know the stories,” he said softly. “And I know exactly how other honest men’s stories ended because of attitudes like this. Don’t cause trouble. The only reason we got into trouble today is because of me. I suspected her and I should have told that to Dalinar instead.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “That’s--” “-Don’t cause trouble,” Kaladin repeated, leaning forward. There was no communicating a lifetime of torment; only hope that Moash would listen. This time, he seemed to take the words seriously, and his expression grew less hard. “We don’t give them a reason to suspect us, and they’ll leave us alone.” “What kind of life is that, Kal?” Moash asked. He watched the flames dancing through tired eyes. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we’re all still alive. I’d like to keep it that way.” He looked at the wood cracking under the flames, trying to take in any warmth he could. Moash lingered from his spot, and he eventually got up and left silently. Kaladin remained with his back to the raucous group of men yelling their stories or hurling insults, and he felt a shudder. Everything felt too familiar. He’d known these sorts of bonds before. But they always ended short because he’d ruined the peace. Everyone fed on his insistence that there was more to life than just being a slave. They laughed with him; they believed in him. And then he never heard them again. He held out a hand towards the fire, savoring its warmth and the good noise of the bridgemen around him. If only one good thing was to come out of all those people he’d failed, it was that he’d learned from his mistakes.

[cloudkohv]

My freineds we are living the most terrifing day we really need your help we dying slowly here . The situation is getting worse .Afull siege on gaza hsa just been announced 🥺and the bombing not stop we suffering from fear .hunger .we are forst to displacment for tenth time and we are tent rottine .we dont have any money to buy a tent .a flour or even food . .my baby without milk for more than month i ask your humanity and your heart to help us and save my children from this deadly starvation please help me to buy tent and food for my children 🙏😥😔🥺 please donate anything i want save my baby he small body not stand😥😔🙏 the tent 1000$ the milk price 80$ dipperes 120$ he all the time crying🙏🙏please donate and share🙏😔

https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=D6VF4AWMHHZQQ

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #120 )

For anyone who comes across this, this is the list from gazavetters.

[cloudkohv]

my thoughts are with the fans of wuthering heights on this day. and emily bronte.

[cloudkohv]

I don't want Moash to get a redemption arc, and I don't want to make him worse, I want a secret third thing (factory reset to Oathbringer.)

[cloudkohv]

Our very own Herald of Paperwork <3

[cloudkohv]

welcome to my epic fantasy world. we have many developed fantasy kingdoms with 2000 years of rich lore and history. and to the south you can see the evil sand people and to the east theres japanchina.

[cloudkohv]

Reading your rewrite on the "Shallan steals Kaladin's boots" scene makes me want to rewrite the chasm scene and Shallan's entire Veil arc. Imagine a version of the books where Shallan and Adolin are forced to acknowledge and reconcile with their casual racism towards Kaladin.

God what about rewriting the whole "Adolin and Shallan want to be best friends with Kaladin and help with his ptsd" stuff. What if, as Veil, she actually comes to understand systemic racism and goes to Kaladin to apologize for her crap. And that understanding and building of bridges is part of what helps Kaladin get better. Could've been a great opportunity for a bit where she buys him new boots

Or OH how about having the FORMER SLAVE character talk to Jasnah about the whole abolishing slavery thing!!!

You do great work and it's inspiring. Ty

Anooon YESSS! you must! do you know how therapeutic this would be to read. Your ideas are brilliant. Using Veil as a way for Shallan to deconstruct her beliefs about the world would be so *mwah* (and she ends up learning understanding value of a pair of boots?!) The controversial Queen of Alethkar butting heads or working alongside a former slave? The uproar + drama that would cause!?

The best thing is that properly addressing these issues gives so much room to not only analyze characters and their beliefs, but naturally creates thematic depth. The chasm scenes were one of the first scenes I wanted to redo too! Other readers have also talked about how it was like Kaladin was being made to say things that didn't line up with his character or beliefs, because since we got to see that character for so long now, we can tell when things are being misrepresented.

And Veil!! Don't get me started!!! I think I have Shallan's whole thing with Veil as another topic I wanted to rant about. Long story short, it's just so weird that this sheltered lighteyed girl is cosplaying as a group of people she's never met or grown around and it's just portrayed as...cool? even worse is how her caricature of a darkeyed woman isn't used to explore her own beliefs about darkeyes and why she has that perception of them; it's just used to talk about her mental health. What's so annoying to me about this is that it happens in real life all the time, ranging from like, a wealthy teen from the suburbs acting like they grew up on the """streets""" to seem cool up to pop singers adopting "urban" aesthetics of marginalized people only to ditch it once they're done profiting from it. If the Veil thing was handled in a more thoughtful way then maybe I'd say otherwise. I remember the one moment in OB where she was upset at class disparity and it just didn't get brought up again, and it's like nooo that could have been so interesting for her to explore! It's like you were saying, imagine if she learned anything from her experiences as Veil and used that to empathize with Kaladin instead of trying to just shoot him down all the time.

overall: YESS TO EVERYTHING YOU'RE SAYING, and I would love to read whatever you rewrite!! I am already seated!

[cloudkohv]

*chuckling nervously*

[cloudkohv]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #438 )✅️

Please don t’ skip🇵🇸👶🏻

I am Manal from Gaza, 31 years old. My family and I are living in extremely difficult circumstances after the war on Gaza. We were displaced from our home and live in a tent that does not protect us from the heat of the summer or the cold of the winter. I suffer from extreme poverty because of these circumstances; we have nothing. We are no longer able to provide basic necessities such as food, drink, and other things due to the exorbitant rise in prices. Thus, our sources of livelihood have been destroyed, and we live in extremely difficult conditions in tents. Words cannot describe what we face daily in the tents without food, medicine, or clean drinking water, in addition to the stress, helplessness, psychological pressure, and daily trauma caused by everything around us. We work to care for our families, so that we do not leave them vulnerable to danger, illness, and death.

Now, I find myself in this difficult situation, and I humbly ask for your help to save the lives of my family, especially my little girl, by getting us out of Gaza to Egypt and building a new life outside Gaza or helping us get money to buy the necessities we might be able to afford. Asking for help is not easy, but we had no choice because we want to survive and strive to rebuild our shattered lives. We are very grateful for any help you can offer, no matter how small, because your help will go a long way in alleviating our suffering. I hope you will share my story with your family and friends.

[cloudkohv]

Hello 🙋

My name is Maram, I am 25 years old from Gaza. I dreamed of a peaceful life, spending my life with my husband and my three children... but the war turned this dream into an impossible one 💔😭. We lived through this genocide with all its painful details and we are still suffering from it😭. We were so happy when the ceasefire was announced, and we returned to our homes in northern Gaza after being displaced for a year and a half in a tent in the south of the Gaza Strip. After repairing a small room in our destroyed house, we began to live there and start over. Unfortunately, the war came back, and it was even stronger than before 💔. Now, we have no shelter or source of income. We have used up all our savings during the war. I know I created my campaign very late, but that's because I have no other means to help my family 🙏. I am completely confident and hopeful that someone here will help us as much as they can and save my family in these tough circumstances 😔.

I know how painful and frustrating it is to start over from scratch, but I hope to get any amount for my family 🥺🙏.

So, please, donate to my campaign, even if it's a small amount—it will have a big impact on us 🥺. May God bless you, my friend 🥰❤️.

[cloudkohv]

[cloudkohv]

do not forget about reservations.

do not forget about the people on reservations.

when you are making and reading posts about dire predictions for quality of life, do not forget about reservations.

we already have issues accessing clean water. we already experience devastation from climate change. we are already going missing for our race. we are already being murdered for our culture.

it will only get worse.

it’s possible to live through. every single person indigenous to north america has a chance to live through this. i’m not trying to fear monger; i’m trying to remind you.

please do not forget about us when you assure people that “everything will be okay; people are living under far worse circumstances in other countries”.

people are living under far worse circumstances here. and it can get worse. and it will get worse. and we need you to remember that we’re here when it happens.

[cloudkohv]

Middle eastern edition of Stormlight Archive just dropped

[cloudkohv]

I rewrote this scene from Words of Radiance.

This scene sticks out to me because it is the main conflict for Kaladin in WOR--given all that he's went through with Amaram, is it worth it to trust Dalinar again? In multiple scenes, Syl tries to convince Kaladin to trust Dalinar, and to not let his past experiences with Amaram color the way he sees him. This is part of the Not All Lighteyes argument that makes up the backbone of Words of Radiance.

This is one of the major ideas I disagreed with. Not only did I find this question/arc to be repetitive (Kaladin himself literally says "I've been here before" in TWOK when he's debating on whether or not to trust Dalinar), but the way Kaladin's arc is handled in WOR regarding Dalinar disregards all the race/class issues he cared about. I think his skepticism was reasonable and made sense for his character. So I rewrote this scene.

For anyone new here, hi and hello :) I'm writing a longfic "fix-it" project with the aim of reworking and responding to The Stormlight Archive's portrayal of societal upheaval during the apocalypse. Basically, I am reworking the stuff around how race and class is addressed, because it's righteous and therapeutic I think it would be neat. Current working summary for it is:

Kaladin and Moash have been right the whole time (because let's be serious. They were) and it's time to cause more problems in the Alethi government. The fuel of revolution is building in Alethkar as Bridge Four continues to stoke tension among the highprinces and as class stratification grows among the Alethi people. Unfortunately the apocalypse is happening, and even more unfortunately, Kaladin and Moash have differing ideas on how to fight for justice.

And strangely... everything they've learned about Radiants has been a lie? Perpetuated by the monarchy?

I present to you my take on "You need to become what Dalinar Kholin is looking for." Given that this is the main argument and direction for Kaladin's arc in WOR, part one of this longfic is about responding to this argument and ends up diverging in the opposite direction (oops spoilers) in the hopes of keeping his character consistent.

Other scene/idea rewrite drafts currently posted are: The King was Dalinar's Tien, The Boots Scene. Anything related to this project I keep tagged as #HA/TROS. I'm hoping to publish the first part soon, God willing, so if you like what you see here, free to check out the tag or follow :).

Excerpt:

Kaladin's gaze wandered upwards towards the inky sky, where once before, an old, wisened face as grand as the horizon with eyes made of stars, appeared during a time he was certain he was dead. A shudder came over him, only for Syl to rise to meet his eyes. “You,” she said, “are going to need to become what Dalinar Kholin is looking for. Don’t let him search in vain.” Kaladin kept his gaze fixed on the sky. “I don’t see much of a reason to tell him anything."

  He saw her expression fall in his peripheral vision. “Listen," he said, now focusing on her. "I’m not a Radiant, and I have no reason to give whatever this is away.” “But nobody can take it away from you, Kaladin. It's about helping them do the right thing." He was silent now as they continued down the chasm path, which grew quieter as he strayed further from the training site. Syl faced Kaladin as she followed him, as if at any moment he was going to state the words of another oath. The sounds of clashing spears and men's cries echoed around him. As he walked, memories of Alethi and Parshendi soldiers' clashing weapons painted themselves on the high chasm walls in the colors of spilled blood and broken wood. On his right, a pair of Parshendi soldiers covered the body of one of their fallen. Ahead of him, the darkness stretched out to hold the memory of the wide expanse of bridge before him. On each side of the bridge stood battle-worn bridgemen, facing the arrows from the other side as they flew towards them, their postures weighed with resignation. He stood in the center, feeling a chill beneath his clothes as if he were in the bridgeman's vest again, about to leap across the chasm. "The right thing," he repeated softly as the image dissolved around him. "Is to join the forces of a highprince at war." "What good will it do if you keep this to yourself?" "More good than if I trust another lighteyes' reputation." "You aren't thinking straight," she said. "You keep thinking Dalinar is Amaram, but he isn't, and you know that. He saved you. He wants to help people, Kaladin." "And we saved him," he said. "It's a fine enough exchange, as long as he stays out of our way." "But he isn't-" "I don't care what he isn't, and I don't care who he is," he said. "He's in no position to negotiate with any of the other highprinces right now and he needs us to protect him. That keeps us from being pawns. Telling him about this means I'm just handing myself over to be one. I know you see good in him, but that isn't enough." "Then what is enough?" Syl asked. The question brought him to a sudden halt. As he looked at her, he felt some of that resolve waver. Syl was ancient and wasn't limited like a human was. Her memory was fragmented, but those fragments were shards of the truth—perfect mirrors of reality, whereas people were only ever marred reflections of what was and what should never have been. Kaladin placed a hand over the brands on his forehead as his gaze lowered to the ground. He lowered his hand, still able to feel the grooves and bumps where the branding iron sealed his fate. They called it a mercy compared to death--to enslave him, to beat him, to use him. But there was no mercy in living without honor. Without dignity. Without justice. Perhaps nothing was enough.

[cloudkohv]

Ever wonder what happened inside the Bridge 4 barracks while Kaladin was up on their roof getting beaten to death by the highstorm? Cause I sure do . . .

[cloudkohv]

that movie literally gave me a headache because of how much i disliked it

[cloudkohv]

Obsessed by the Ursula Leguin's Earthsea saga at the moment.... Ged and his boat have been on my mind ⋆｡ﾟ🌊｡

a few months passed inbetween these two illustrations and I can see my painting style has evolved a bit like it's sharper I feel Idk ?