#ERRANT STORIES

[luvlian]

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[triaelf9]

My brain is going like 1000 miles a minute

I have too many hyperfocus things going on in my head right nowwww

It's like WHEEE but also noooo i can't focus on too many side things b/c I have big things on the plate that I NEED to plan for >__<

[mercurialmalcontent]

ERRANT WINGS releases April 22nd!

My friend @earlronove has a new book coming out, a coming-of-age story set in a magical reality with a 90's vibe.

For three years, Asher waited for his wings. When they turn out to be angel wings, he has to either fall in line and devote himself entirely to the city, or find a way out.

I had the pleasure of beta reading this book; I started it puzzled but intrigued by the premise, and finished it with my heart aching, but comforted. This book says, You are a real person with worth no matter what the world says you are. I wish I could go back in time and give it to my teenaged self, but even though I can't it was still a balm to the little bit of me that still is that misfit kid.

I highly recommend it to any other current or former misfits who like magical realism, especially if you ever wished you could grow wings.

You can pre-order here: https://linktr.ee/errantwings

Remember, pre-orders help authors a lot!

[sirimiri-ovo]

Wanted to draw Hugh Stormward from The Mage Errant series by John Bierce I’ve been listening to the books and rlly like the stormwards crown concept. I also have some other doodles based around the beginning of the books.

[connoisseurofcozycorners]

I... I don't think it's supposed to be this small

[alyrie-targaryen]

"An enemy who fears you will only hesitate so long as the threat outweighs their desire to be free of you. To an enemy who loves you, the loss of you is the threat."

I am thinking of the differences in how Alyrie Targaryen is going to handle the Blacks versus how Phassa Royce intends to deal with them and figured it out. Alyrie is going to fully embrace the familial connections between them to make the war as painful as possible to wage against the Greens. She wants them as entwined emotionally as possible.

They are going to be family.

They are going to love each other.

They are going to find the thought of betraying the other abhorrent.

You don't hurt family.

You don't kill family.

You protect your family.

[errantce]

but there was actually another thing he had been contemplating since the afternoon. but he didn't know if this was something he could bring up to solani so soon. so for now he chose to keep it in.

[johnbierce]

Mage Errant short stories

In case anyone who follows my books didn't know already, I publish a monthly short story, usually set in the worlds of my books, on my Patreon! (Every now and then there are short stories not set in the worlds of my books, like stylistic tributes to China Mieville or Dianna Wynne Jones.)

This month, the Patreon short story is Along Came A Dragon, set on the hostile, alien world of Limnus:

The dragon Xandrefax has wandered a dozen worlds, conquering and pillaging as he pleases, unpredictable and unstoppable— and now he’s decided to lay his sights on Limnus, to turn it into his personal kingdom of endless sky, poison clouds, and trees taller than mountains. He’s about to learn the hard way what Limnus does to conquerors.

[potatoesandsunshine]

snippet saturday!

@afaramir tagged me to share a some of a wip thank u abby!! i've really gotten Star Wars Brained™️again so here's a snippet from the perpetually-unfinished 'what if this side character was force sensitive but it didn't actually change anything?' AU :p

   Kleya is walking out of the Imperial Navy Recruitment Centre, calm and efficient and invisible, as hurrying on Coruscant gets you nowhere but dead. She’s left the package on the desk without any trouble, the receptionist bored and the security officers lazy, when suddenly the thing in her head yawns and snaps at her, animal teeth grazing her heels.    Kleya starts to run.    She skids into the turbolift right before the door closes and smiles blandly at the man inside. “Late for my next delivery,” she laughs, self-deprecating, and lets him lecture her on the importance of punctuality until there’s a violent shrieking of metal and the turbolift lurches to a halt, caught between two floors. They both stumble, barely keeping their footing.    The emergency lights come on.    The officer turns to look at her, something suspicious blooming on his face, and she puts two blaster bolts into his chest before he can say a word.

this fic is very... i don't like writing much about andor because the show is so, so good so it kinda doesn't feel like there's anything for me to add? but i am FASCINATED by the spymaster-who-needs-handling/agent-who-occasionally-handles-him dynamic that luthen and kleya have. he has such 'secret jedi' vibes that i'm so glad we didn't get confirmed but i think it would actually be more fun if SHE was connected to the web of energy that binds all living things, and it didn't matter in the grander scheme at all.

also bonus kotor 2 fic snippet because i just. cannot stop rotating the game in my mind. what if you had a crush/wartime hookup and she either fell to the dark side while you were together or was always there from the start. you know how it goes.

   Her memories of Revan have... blurred, somewhat. The aftermath of Malachor V and her violent severing from the Force were greatly disorienting, scrambling things around, and ten years of piecing herself back together wasn’t nearly enough time to make peace with what passed between them.    When she tries, Leida can almost summon her up; she had been a sun in the Force, burning and vast and greater than anyone had the right to be, like a deity, a war-goddess. Alek was the recruiter, coming to the Temple and promising justice, but in truth they all fought under Revan’s banner, in Revan’s name.     It was all for Lady Revan, sad-eyed with something terse in her expression, who had met Leida after a skirmish wiped out the rest of her unit and said, “Yes, you’ll do.”

kotor 2 my beloved kotor 2................................ anyway.

[toodeepforyou]

i wish milanese-style 15th c. armor didn’t have such gigantic pauldrons. like

this guy has immense drip save for the Bigge Pawldronne. i can absolutely understand the need for it. the power of lance blows increased tenfold over the past century so more robust armor at the likely target is the most sensible solution. but it’s ugly and i hate it. i have grown to love the cuirass that developed after the turn of the century and it kills me that it’s seen almost exclusively with the chonky pauldron

[merge-conflict]

The appeal of starting from the ending and working back is that you put a cap on every Might Have Been, every wandering tangent, etc. that your drafting mind might otherwise wind down. And there's nothing more irritating then having a good idea when wrapping something up only to realize you didn't have time to foreshadow it like you did the other 2 or 3 recurring consequences (TV writer woes).

Everything in the final conversation Abernathy has with Valentine has to be doing the work of two or three callbacks. Right now I've only hit the initial callbacks, and as I sketch out the ideas mentioned her in passing, which evoke certain strong emotions, then I know I need to do something with V's work involvement with Biotechnica, with some sort of clash with Jenkins, with what Valentine is like when she loses her temper. And I know that because it's what Abernathy is fixated on trying to control this breakup conversation, and also reveals what Abernathy herself is concerned about, and perhaps has been concerned about for a long time and never shown. (Or has she?)

Anyhow I love talking process, so this is the kind of skeleton script I'm going to be working backwards from. It will most certainly not survive exactly like this, but it's a good anchoring point:

<>

“If you tell anyone about anything, I’ll have you removed and handled as a double agent. You have been awful involved with Biotechnica lately.” - “I’m not going to warn you again. Do you understand?”

(dully) “You do that and they’ll know I was telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter what they know, it matters what they can prove.” (you know this. we've talked about this. don't be stupid.)

“I suppose next you’ll be asking me to use my new position to spy on Jenkins for you.” (petulant. bitter. a tool, you were always a tool, do you understand?)

“No. I know how you get when you’re angry.” (thinking. malicious. flippant.) “Besides, I thought you’d enjoy a chance to get your claws into him.”

(silently angry. is the implication that she’d do for him what she’d done for her? that she’s just a dangerous beast? that she knows her and her anger so well?)

“Well?”

“What do you want me to do? Beg for leniency? Make some emotional plea? You want me to ask if you ever even gave a shit about me? You want me to put on a show?” - “You wouldn’t believe a word I said anyway. Give me a cigarette.”

(hands one over, lights it. finally makes eye contact. this is real.) “Don’t look so glum. You wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have without my help. You can cry into your bank account if you want, but it’s not like I’m kicking you out on the street.”

“Alright.” (inhale. peace. emptiness. drains her drink. drops the cigarette into abernathy’s.) “It’s done.”

<>

Re-reading this I already know I need to work in some reference to Valentine's mother and some warning/advice/celebration they have near the end of this reverse story. Something that ties back to her own failed marriage and divorce and dashed expectations. Something about finding a reason to keep going on until you can't bear to any more. Something that echoes the familial stubbornness which means Valentine in the damn things overlap will endure anything so long as she knows the expiration date.

The most fascinating part of writing these two to me is that Abernathy has this very strict rule about never admitting guilt or regret directly, but she'll say something like "I'd apologize but it's already done, isn't it?" and it's like YOU COULD STILL SAY IT! But she sees that as weakness. And Valentine picks up that same attitude here "What do you want me to do? Beg for leniency? Make some emotional plea?" They're mocking each other for the very normal human desire for acknowledgement. They're intelligence agents who think they're just making sure they're not fooling themselves (they're fooling themselves). Sincerity is only useful for pre-empting someone else trying to expose your vulnerability.

Anyway, they're operating on a certain set of fucked up toxic social rules that are in some respects even harsher than the normal corpo set. They're self-policing, because Abernathy is obsessed with gaining favor with someone who is a misogynistic homophobe, and she's playing for keeps against people who aren't reviled by this person. The idea might also come up that she doesn't NEED to be doing it to this degree, but she's warped her own idea of what she needs to do, and what kind of person she needs to be, and applied that to Valentine as well. The tragedy is that they love each other. They work well together. It's never going to work out. It didn't work out. But look at what they had, and how fucked up and funny and exciting it all was before it went to shit.

[echthr0s]

"oh I can't possibly explain Homestuck" "oh I can't possibly explain Kingdom Hearts" "oh I can't possibly explain The Dark Tower"

[bluemoonbun]

Rotating an idea in my head;

Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.

Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.

Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".

Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.

It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.

But it wasn't enough

Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.

Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.

Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.

Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.

The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.

And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".

Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.

Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.

Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.

Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.

When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.

As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.

--------

Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.

You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.

Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.

He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.

You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.

Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.

He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.

But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"

Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.

"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.

He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.

"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."

"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?

Hadn't he done so much for you?

You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.

"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."

-------

The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.

Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.

The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.

Like he was less than human in their eyes.

Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.

"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"

"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.

"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."

"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.

Two words.

Two words that finally made them look at you.

Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.

Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.

Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.

"They're gone."

[keycomicbooks]

The New Warriors Annual #1 (1991) Mark Bagley & Mike Mignola Cover, Dan Slott Story, John Calimee Pencils, "Errant Knights"

#TheNewWarriors #Annual #1 (1991) #MarkBagley & #MikeMignola Cover, #DanSlott Story, #JohnCalimee Pencils A Marvel Comics superhero team, traditionally consisting of young adult heroes. The New Warriors first appeared in issues 411 and 412 of the Marvel Comics title The Mighty Thor. SAVE ON SHIPPING COST - NOW AVAILABLE FOR LOCAL PICK UP IN DELTONA, FLORIDA https://www.rarecomicbooks.fashionablewebs.com/The%20New%20Warriors.html#1  #RareComicBooks #KeyComicBooks #MarvelComics #MCU #MarvelUniverse #KeyIssue

[johnbierce]

New mage errant when!!??

That finale was incredible

Really glad you enjoyed it, thank you!

The Mage Errant short story collection will be out early next year! And I'm hard at work on my next series!

[apricops]

So, the thing about Don Quixote.

The thing about Don Quixote is that he tilts at windmills - tilts in the archaic sense of ‘charge at with a lance,’ because it’s the story of a guy who read so much chivalric romance that he lost his mind and started larping as a knight-errant. He was, if you’ll pardon the phrasing, chivalrybrained.

The thing about Don Quixote is, sometimes people take it as this story of whimsical and bravely misguided individualism or ‘being yourself’ or whatever, and they’re wrong. If it took place in the modern day, Don Quixote would absolutely be the story of a trust fund kid who blew his inheritance being a gacha whale until his internet got cut off so now he wanders around insisting that people refer to him as ‘Gudako.’

But the real thing about Don Quixote is that it was published in the early 1600s, and the thing about the 1600s is that Europe was one big tire fire. This is because 1600s Europe was still organized around feudalism (or ‘vassalage and manorialism’ if ya nasty), which assumed that land (and the peasants attached to it) were the only source of wealth. And that had worked just fine (well, ‘just fine,’ it was still feudalism) for a long time, because Europe had been a relative backwater with little in the way of urbanization or large-scale trade.

That was no longer true for Europe in the 1600s. The combination of urban development, technological advances, and brutal Spanish colonialism meant that land was no longer the sole source of wealth. Sudden there was a new class of business-savvy, investment-minded upwardly-mobile commoners, and another new class of downwardly-mobile gentry who simply couldn’t compete in this new fast-paced economy. Cervantes saw this process with his own eyes.

One of the symbols of this new age was the windmill, a complicated piece of engineering that was expensive to build but would then produce profits indefinitely - in other words, a windmill was capital.

The thing about Don Quixote is, when he tilts at windmills, he has correctly identified his nemesis.