ellenembee

[ellenembee]

After System Collapse and Rapport, I can't help thinking about how completely and utterly insane ART and Murderbot's first meeting was from ART's perspective.

UplandGatewayOne, the station where they met, is ART's home station. In Mihira and New Tideland's system. Which is deeply anti-corporate. SecUnit even notes at the time that there aren't any security or bond companies there, so nobody should be looking for escaping SecUnits. Iris and Matteo, for all the anti-corporate missions they've been on, have never even seen one, which means Perihelion most likely hasn't either. They're not deployed on transit rings except in GrayCris-paying-to-murder-people situations, and when they are, it's a big deal accompanied by a lot of alarms and screaming and panic.

And one just kind of strolls across the private docks without setting off the weapons scanners. Wholly unnoticed.

So there was already no legitimate explanation for a SecUnit being here. That's point one. Which means it has to have an illegitimate reason.

And ART's paranoia is easily on par with Tarik's, generally speaking. Even though it's never encountered a SecUnit before it has to be aware that this could be an attack by a corporate. Except the SecUnit's got no drones, no additional weaponry, no armor, and it's wearing cargo pants and a hoodie. Which would seem to suggest that it's supposed to be mistaken for a human -- okay, maybe that explains how it got across the transit station a tiny bit? Not really. But at least it accounts for the lack of screaming.

But there's no point in it trying to pretend it's a human now, if this is the prelude to some kind of attack. It's not like ART is a passenger transport, and these are the private non-commercial docks. It can't get on board without trying to hack the lock, and it can't get too far from its handler without frying itself, so it has to do whatever it's doing before ART leaves the transit ring. Whatever attack is coming, it has to be soon. Like, right now, soon.

And it just pings ART directly.

Not even... trying to hide its presence as a potential hostile MI a little.

That is... possibly the most stupid prelude to a code attack it could have made? And if it had been trying to pretend it was human to persuade ART's crew (who aren't even here anyway) to give it access to the ship, it just blew its cover. What the hell is its human handler thinking? They're really bad at this.

And then it asks for a ride--which, again, is hilarious if it thinks it can gain entry that easily--wait. What the fuck? It's offering several hundred hours of entertainment media as a trade.

There is no human handler.

ART doesn't even have to check the governor module at that point. No human would imagine that transports watch television. Possibly, no other bots besides transports would know that they do, because transports are famously not-communicative. Nobody could have instructed it to say that. The only way the SecUnit itself could have gotten the idea that this approach might work is if it tried it before and it was successful.

Okay, so what we know for sure is: This SecUnit is a rogue, and it talks to transports.

And apparently it's hitchhiking?

This raises so many more questions than it answers.

Where the hell did it come from? How did it get across the station without setting off any alerts? Why was it chatting up transports before now? How did it even get several hundred hours of entertainment media downloads? And why the hell would any sentient being, let alone a rogue SecUnit, want to hitchhike to RaviHyral? A crummy little moon which has nothing on it except for mines.

ART's explanation of, "I was curious about you," for letting Murderbot on board is the understatement of the millennium.

This is the equivalent of a frigging walrus ringing your doorbell.

[ellenembee]

The Light You Still Hold

rated M | ongoing | read on ao3.

thank you @joneskillian for this beautiful edit (and the permission to post it) ♥

Ophelia Trevelyan has no wish for history to remember her as just one more mage to ruin the world, but when her choices are stay and die or run and live, she knows which option to pick. She doesn’t know how she’ll convince the Inquisition to believe her this time, but maybe closing the rifts and making friends with them all is a start.

“Don’t listen to anything it says,” Varric warned. “It’s tricked good-- well, smart-- Well, it’s tricked people before, don’t let yourself be one of them.” 

Cassandra grunted, and Solas inclined his head. 

Ophelia didn’t respond, but later, amidst the echoes of the fade and the disbelieving huff from Cassandra, she thought Varric’s words might have doomed her. The echoes in the fade should have been proof of her redemption--it was to her first the Divine called for her help, it was her voice that intruded upon a scene with whatever person killed them all. 

Red lyrium lied, she could see the thought written on their faces long before they reached the rift. She could see her fate in their eyes, and it was not sliding towards freedom. 

There will be a trial, I can promise no more. 

[ellenembee]

writing tip #3827:

start

[ellenembee]

Jerome. His name was Jerome. Good lord. Why did I use so many "J" names in this fic? Jerome, Jean-Marc, TWO Jacques...

TFW you haven't worked on a fic in so long that you can't remember a side character's name.

[ellenembee]

TFW you haven't worked on a fic in so long that you can't remember a side character's name.

[ellenembee]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66992527

Y'ALL THIS IS THE COOLEST FANFIC I'VE EVER SEEN.

It is a complete narrative about SecUnits on a Planetary Survey trying to communicate and keep their clients safe while dealing with the restrictions of their govmod.

IT IS ALSO A FULLY INTERACTIVE GAME OF MINESWEEPER.

The story is told BY PLAYING MINESWEEPER.

This fic is criminally underrated go look at it!!!

[ellenembee]

WIP Wednesday

From chapter 38 of Truths Half Told Beget Lives Half Lived.

"Clara! Clara, where are you?" she cried, her heart pounding so fast she could barely catch her breath. Where could they have gone? She needed to think. It couldn't have been that long ago, and they would have to get through so many people. Surely someone had seen— "Papa!" Trice whirled around in time to see Rylen slump to the floor about halfway down the hallway. Jacques was crouched over him, hands clutching his shoulders, tears flowing down his face, and Trice... Everything stopped.  Her body. Her mind. Her whole world. It all fell apart a moment at a time: One second for her heart to freeze in her chest. One second to register the multiple calamities piling on her head. One second to see a future with no Clara, no Rylen, and a son who hated her beyond measure for losing them both.

[ellenembee]

Hello fellow Dragon Age fanatics, it is I, @perkeleen-lavellan , and I come to you peddling that serialized zine project I mentioned!

Introducing Thedosian! Its goal is to be a fanwork sharing zine with three issues per year., each with its own unique theme. This year there will only be one, however, as I will be taking extra time to set everything up initially.

This zine is completely free and digital in the spirit of fostering a more interactive community. We value inclusivity, bringing visibility to smaller creators, and showcasing all the talent that this fandom has to offer.

MODERATORS

I am looking for 1-2 moderators to help me by moderating our discord and assisting me with communicating to our creatives, and in genral with planning the first iteration of this project.

You will have a schedule that I have planned and other guidelines to help you. Any relevant skills or input you have will be more than welcome. Although this project aims to be a long term one you do not have to stay with us for more than this one issue. The deadline for issue No. 1 is at the end of October, so you do need to be able to commit to being involved until then.

Mod apps end a week before the contributors.

1.8.2025

MODS APPLY HERE

ARTISTS & WRITERS

This issues theme is Heroes. We want you create art and writing focused on the protagonists that have made these games what they are, be they Wardens, Hawkes, Inquisitors or Rooks.

The contributor applications end August 10th, and you have until August 15th to accept the position.

The deadline for all the works is October 26th, so only apply if you believe you can finish in time.

Artists will be asked to create either a vertical single page illustration or a horizontal two page spread illustration. In addition we are looking for a cover artist, which would be a horizontal illustration covering front and back. We'll provide all our artists with proper page templates.

ARTISTS APPLY HERE

Writers will be asked to write a 5000 word fic at minimum with no hard upper limit. We do ask that you keep it at 3 chapters at maximum, and remember that you need to leave time for yourself for editing and beta reading if you wish to do that. It will not be a requirement however.

WRITERS APPLY HERE

[ellenembee]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the lovely @briannasroger - thank you, darling!

I committed myself to finishing Truths Half Told Beget Lives Half Lived for a @ficwip event this fall called "The Fic That Haunts You." As soon as I did—for whatever reason—my brain finally broke through the many obstacles that have been holding me back for years, and I've written about 3.5k words so far this week.

This scene is from the final chapter (not including the epilogue), where our valiant Captain Rylen meets someone from his Starkhaven Circle Tower days.

Mage light flared between them. As his vision adjusted, a woman with a vaguely familiar smirk and flame-red hair with pointed ears peeking through the thick strands stepped closer. He recognized her as one of the warrior mages that came with Mei, but there was something else... a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. He frowned. "I do know ye. But..." "Think of a big fire, a burning beam falling on you, a heroic mage who decided not to let you die... Coming back to you now?" Rylen blinked, mouth agape. "You! Ath... Al... I'm sorry lass. It's been too long, and my mind is a sieve these days. But I do know ye, and I'm not one to deny a debt. I owe you my life." The woman laughed, a note of disbelief coloring her tone. "Maker preserve me. I thought maybe it was an act at first, but you really did become the man I always thought you could be. How refreshing. The name is Aithlin, by the way." "Aithlin! Yes. And you've been here under my nose all this time." It wasn't a question, but she answered it like one anyway. "I have." "And you recognized me immediately, I suppose?" A hint of sourness twisted at the edges of her mouth, though her tone was light as she replied, "I don't think many mages ever forget their jailers, Knight-Captain, no matter how brief the interaction." Weariness descended like a shroud. He raised a shaking hand and rubbed at his temples. "It's just Captain now. And you've nothing to fear from me. Even if I wanted to—which I don't—I couldnae wield a sword to save my life, and there's not a drop of lyrium left in my veins."

Tagging @shadoedseptmbr, @choccy-zefirka, @naiatabris, @lykegenia, @snarky-magpie and anyone else who wants to play! (If you've already done one recently, feel free to comment with the link or tag me in the post!)

[ellenembee]

WIP Whenever

tagged by @theluckywizard ♥

Should I be working on the two fics I have ongoing? Yes. Am I? Kinda. In my defense, this is an interlude of TLYSH so I'm technically helping that one along, too. Featuring Tilda Hawke as my Inquisitor in my WIP fic, Stare as the Embers Glow.

Tilda needed to be strong. She needed to be the Inquisitor everyone expected of her. Most days it was easy, because she didn't know if there was a time in her life where she wasn't expected to be strong and capable and ready. When you wore something long enough, it didn't take much effort to don it like armor in the morning. "What?" she asked finally, because he still wasn't speaking and she didn't want to think any longer about what they were. She chose to rip the threads free of whatever tapestry was trying to bind them together. Maybe, when the Inquisition was done and the world wasn't at stake and she wasn't fighting a fucking magister, she would revisit the option. If he was still there, if he didn't fly away as she ordered him to do. "Nothing." He turned away from her, pulling both hands through his hair. A wreck of man masquerading as someone capable—she hated the mirror. If she squinted enough, maybe she'd see the Maker's marionette strings. "Alfonso," she warned. He laughed darkly. "Is that an order, Inquisitor?" She hid a wince. Was that where they were? A fuck in the dark, and orders in the light? Let it be said she didn't shy away from the uncomfortable. She straightened, chin lifting and eyes blazing, and she thought he hid a wince of his own. "If it has to be."

tagging: @joneskillian @anathemathebibliophile @mrs-theirin @dragonagedorks @celestialteapot @ellenembee @bibutterflies and you! For anyone who wants to do it :)

[ellenembee]

“how do you write again after a long break?” you just start. that’s the horror of it. you just. start. and then the story opens its eyes.

[ellenembee]

Replies were restricted either just for me or in general literally a minute after this response came through in my notes, but I just want to say that I also have a job, a life, write thousands of hours of fan fic, and struggle with mental health. I still expect myself and others to reply to comments. It's not difficult to copy-paste a "thank you!" into a text box and hit submit if spoons are low. Or even take extra time to reply. I'm not saying replies need to be instantaneous. I've often taken days or even weeks (very rarely months) to reply.

But fandom is *supposed* to be a community. If engaging in that community makes a person miserable, I would question whether it's the best place for them to be for their own mental health. Or, again, writers should close comments and walk away from the fic after posting. Expecting others to lavish praise and not even acknowledging it with a thank you is, again, rude. It's a hill I will die on, my friends.

Fandom is turning into a commodity-driven thing, and it's bad for writing. Bad for art. Bad for fandom. If we want people to comment and interact, we have to be willing to be part of that conversation and not a brick wall. Otherwise, why are we even doing this? What's the point? Why share something at all? (Notice I said "share" there, not "write.")

Perhaps I'm too old school for modern "fandom." Perhaps there's not a place for me and others like me who are here because we actually want to connect with others over a shared love. Who think that fic is the start of a conversation and not an end. I'm not telling anyone what to do—people can still behave how they like. I'm not required to like it, though, nor the harm it's doing to those of us who do desperately want to engage with readers who no longer bother to comment because of writers who have decided they don't want to be part of the fandom community.

Yes there's a typo in the first option but I am not redoing the whole thing

[ellenembee]

Found something interesting for Pride and Prejudice fans relating to Elizabeth's takedown of Mr Darcy's perception of himself a gentleman.

I'm reading Thomas Fuller's 'The Holy State, and the Profane State' (published 1642 but this version republished in 1841 so the views were clearly still applicable) for a research essay, and in the chapter labelled 'The True Gentleman' he states:

He is courteous and affable to his neighbours … the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behaviour to their inferiors.

And of course, during the Hunsford proposal, Darcy has just objected to Elizabeth's family, she's called him out, and we get the iconic lines:

"Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?" "You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner."

So Elizabeth drops that bomb just after he's been ungenerous and discourteous about her inferior relations... in direct contradiction of one of the rules of true gentlemanly behaviour. No wonder he can't rebut her words at all in the moment, even though Darcy later says "it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice." He might not believe he's got a real problem yet, but there's been examples Elizabeth could call on from even during the course of their conversation too blatant for him to disagree with entirely!

And then later, obviously, he reflects and finds it's true he also hasn't been gentlemanlike in this and other ways in too many aspects of his life.

[ellenembee]

Murderbot: this job is stupid, this is all stupid, I hate it here, this sucks

Literally anyone: so you’re not going to help?

Murderbot: no, I’m gonna

Murderbot: (but I’m going to complain the whole time)

[ellenembee]

My problem with Tumblr communities is that no one bothers to click through to react on the original post in addition to reacting in the community. It reinforces the "like/talk about things in private so the creative can't see it" thing that's already far too prevalent in places like Discord.

I recently clicked on a community post that had about thirty total notes from the community... and 7 notes on the actual post.

If you like something, please please please click through and at least give the post a like (maybe a reblog and comment if you're feeling generous). Our fandoms will be stronger for it.

[ellenembee]

Pride and Prejudice (1995) + Text Posts (6/?)

[ellenembee]

Tag game: Latest fanfics

Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

Thanks for the tag @theluckywizard!

I don't think I know 10 people, but tagging @ellenembee @naiatabris @anora-mac-tired @serenpedac @athenasdragon @thee-morrigan @lalizah and @vela-ad-astra

Let's see how this goes...

Rosemary and Citrus Spite sensed them first. As Lucanis practiced moving through his mental image of the Ossuary, burrowing into his own mind under a futile pretence of doing something useful, the demon snapped to a halt from his endless prowling with his head tilted in the manner of a terrier that had caught the scurrying of a rat.

As The World Falls Down The boy narrowed his eyes at the line of weeds and decapitated them with an angry swing of the willow switch. As the flowers dropped to the ground, the stalks waved a little in the violence of his strike, but it didn’t make him feel better.

The Lingering Of Ghosts The desk lamp flickers, the only source of light. In so isolated a place, the electricity supply is always fragile, but with the roar of the storm outside, there’s a good chance it’ll go out altogether.

Mercies A faint aurora still wound across the sky above the mountain, but the lurid green slash of the Breach itself no longer loomed like a tyrant over the valley. In its place, Haven glowed in the light of half a dozen victory fires, the carousing people spilled out from the chantry and the tavern as sparks and song drifted into the clear sky, giving thanks for their lives and for the Herald that had delivered them from uncertainty.

Patience, And Words, And Waterfalls He knows she loves him.

He Makes Her Cry (He Doesn't Like It) Mason’s clothes scrape across his skin. It burns where air currents brush against it.

Only A Dream Of Summer High summer in Redcliffe passed far more pleasantly than in Denerim, where oppressive heat baked the streets and the humidity pressing in from the Amaranthine Ocean brought with it the reek of old fish and refuse. Here, in the rolling hills south of Lake Calenhad, the blaze of midday was tempered by a sweet, cooling breeze, the noise of the city exchanged for birdsong and the hum of bees.

Unicorns And Mistletoe She’s three, and old enough to know it’s part of the punishment. She still has yet to understand what the punishment is for, but she knows that if she can just work it out then her mummy will come back and everything will be alright again.

Come Night, Come Morning He remembers when he didn’t stay. And more, before that, he remembers when he didn’t care at all, when Wayhaven was just another mission – another too-loud, too-bright spot on a map, ripe with humanity, to be endured and then escaped like one of the tactical seminars Adam always insists they attend.

The Towel Started It Leah frowns as she takes in Nate’s empty bedroom, the leatherbound notebook she borrowed from him clasped in one hand. She’s sure she heard a muffled response to her knock, inviting her in, and yet…