justashadetalkative

[justashadetalkative]

Status

Sleep deprived, in mild to moderate pain from various sources, and starting a new ADHD med that I’m a bit nervous about. I think I’ll be taking it easy this week. But I plan to check back in next weekend!

[justashadetalkative]

[justashadetalkative]

“Oh, nicely done,” Felidaen was saying as the reality of the induction medbay formed around him. Diamond could also hear Rainbow and Millie muttering to one another, but sensed only Rainbow in the room.

He hummed a questioning note, and Felidaen clarified, “The humanoid seemed to be getting agitated—probing the barrier, energy outbleed increasing, such signs I could observe —but the human deescalated the situation beautifully.”

“Ah. Excellent.” They desperately needed more people with that temperament, with that skill… though Diamond hated the mercenary part of his mind that was already considering such things. 

“Straighten your hair, Diamond,” Rainbow tutted over the soft beeps of recalibrating medical equipment. Diamond grimaced and ran his hand through—yes—a thorough case of bedhead. 

Moving on…

“Probing how? And—energy bleed?” he asked.

“Mm, yes. Electrostatic production and manipulation for the first, as well as an emanation that I haven’t yet identified for the second. I’m running comparisons.”

“Right. Change of plans then. Felidaen, don’t manifest until we know what those abilities are. Rainbow, would you be willing to join me in the chamber instead?”

It could be a delicate balance to strike, but sometimes appearing with company could make one less intimidating. And as long as neither newcomer had an intense rodent phobia… well, Rainbow certainly wasn’t going to make two human-sized individuals feel outmuscled.

“Yep! Let’s go.”

—

The floor tiles, as it happened, lay just beyond the thinnest layer of what seemed to be the same invisible barrier. Closer inspection of the script they were carved with did not make it any more legible… though the general arrangement of lines and focal points might leave an impression more in line with a circuit board than with decorative or ciphered text. 

One moment, Doc and Ophelia were alone. The next, a section of the chamber wall seemed to fall away like so much sand, shifting to permit the entry of an old man with a white cane in one hand and a massive purple rat at his heels. The wall filled in behind them as if it had never opened to begin with. The pair’s footsteps and the sweeping rasp of the cane across the floor, oddly muffled as all sounds seemed to be in this space, stopped about halfway between the platform and the wall. 

“Hello. My name is Diamond, and this is Rainbow,” said the man. “I know how unpleasant the journey here can be. I’m sorry for the discomfort. I’ll do my best to explain in a moment, but first — have you been pulled away from any kind of emergency?”

Then he blinked. Cocked his head. His mouth twitched, the solemn mask of his expression cracking at the edges. “…aside from leaving the TV on, that is. Let’s rephrase. Is anyone immediately endangered by your absence?”

ᯓ🧪💜˖° Doc had seen that look before. Her unblinking, hollowed eyes which darted across each and every microscopic particle in the air. No smile, but no frown. Inexpressive. He looked down and her finger twitched as static arced in small leaps all around— toward, behind, left and right. It all fizzled out when it hit ‘nothing.’

Ophelia was stressed, and Doc noticed. Now his own eyes darted around the … wherever they were. Stuck. Captured. Imprisoned. There was a crack of bone, instantly silenced, and wisps of ectoplasm breathed out from the scar split down her chest. Not good. Neither of them knew what sort of hand they were dealt; far too many unknowns except for one.

Whoever caught them had caught lightning in a bottle.

“Well, this is just great,” Doc huffed. He initially pretended to, but after he heaved himself off the wooden tiles, he hadn’t needed to (oof, still light-headed). Ophelia’s attention immediately shot to him. Good. Doc spread out his arms in disbelief, pure unfiltered disbelief!

“I THINK I LEFT THE TV ON BACK HOME!!!”

Ophelia … blinked … then, a strained, if not confused, smile. Okay, much better. Keep it up, now.

“Hey, don’t you look at me like that— this is serious! It-it-it’s going to keep playing through the season, over and over and over and over and by the time we get back: I’m not gonna remember where I left off at!!! I’ll have to press play on an episode I THINK is the right one, only to get ten minutes in and realize—oh, wait a second, I think I’ve seen this part already—only THEN realize I went TOO FAR AND SPOILED MYSELF!”

Her strained smile turned real before a few giggles escaped, even as she hid her glee behind a hand no longer twitching. His own laughter followed not too long after.

Though they fell to silence again, the ends of their laughter swallowed up by an overwhelming silence, Doc still took her hands into his. She floated back down and he squeezed fondly.

“Hey. Whatever happens, we’ll be alright. I promise.”

He’d make sure of it.

“Alright, c’mon,” Doc let her hands go and he clapped his. “Lets take a look at these whatchamacallits all over the floor. If we’re lucky, they just might be our ticket outta here.”

[justashadetalkative]

Well that certainly wasn’t an encouraging tone, but Diamond was still feeling a bit too celebratory to feign contrition or fear. 

“Oh, you know,” Diamond said, and waved vaguely in the direction from which he’d been sent flying to fetch up against what seemed to be the wall of a building, “thataway.” He laughed again, still breathless but not quite so giddy as before, and added, “You likely got a better look than I did!”

Diamond’s first attempt to sit up ended in a pained hiss, a scraped elbow, and his left arm cradled to his chest. His second attempt, made with more care, got him up and leaning against the wall. The surface was hot. The heat of sunlight settled across his face as he closed his eye and let his head roll back against the support. 

“I take it that’s a no on the cane…? Mm. Well. More seriously, I came from elsewhere,” he continued, scarred lips quirking wry. “I’d tell you where, but would it actually answer your question to hear the name of an unknown place? Or would you rather skip to asking how I came here? Or perhaps ‘why’?”

...wait. Had this person not actually seen his direct arrival; been turned away, perhaps, or similarly vision-impaired? Diamond wished he’d thought of that sooner. Too late now, though.

At first this seemed it would be just another day. The weather had yet to become stifling but it was just hot and bright enough for most to stay off the streets in the peak hours. The summer sun and the flat terrain burnt off any hopes of cloud cover. Even so, a great deal of shade could be found if you knew the city well enough.

And no one knew it better than Stan. Every block, every alleyway, every establishment. It was like he had a direct connection to the very heartbeat of this strange city - largely in part because he did. So it was rare for things to slip past his radar.

That didn't mean he didn't still get a surprise here and there.

He just so happened to be at the right place at the right time - or wrong, as this interaction had yet to play itself out - to see this new character get quite literally spat out onto the street. Footfalls stop as he looks to the origin of the other's appearance and then back to where they had landed.

It would be a mistake to think his expression was one of panic as he walks over to the dispensed cane, but currently makes no move to pick it up.

"Where did you come from?" He sounded more accusatory than concerned.

[justashadetalkative]

having online friends who are busy is just like. I LOVE YOU. I miss you. YOU GOT THIS. I'm giving you space to work. I LOVE YOU.

[justashadetalkative]

illustration commission of Doc vs the Spire Cats for @krtart and @Miissboo! Pesky kittens, stealing all his good junk! commission info

[justashadetalkative]

Status

As is probably apparent by the recent ask answers, I’m dipping my toes back into things! Still taking it a bit slow, but the writing itch is returning and life seems to be calming down a bit.

If there are any starters that I seem to have left hanging, or if we were beginning to plot things right before I had to dip out and you want to get the ball rolling again, please get in touch!

[justashadetalkative]

Status

As is probably apparent by the recent ask answers, I’m dipping my toes back into things! Still taking it a bit slow, but the writing itch is returning and life seems to be calming down a bit.

If there are any starters that I seem to have left hanging, or if we were beginning to plot things right before I had to dip out and you want to get the ball rolling again, please get in touch!

[justashadetalkative]

🏳️‍⚧️ for Phosa and Linast? :3c (if you're still accepting of course!)

Phosa and Linast’s relation to gender is pretty complicated!

Like many other aspects of their identity, their history has left them with doubts about how much telepathic tampering and general social coercion/pressure/convenience has influenced both their choices and their feelings.

Not to mention that being ‘raised’ primarily by humans and humanoids has had an influence on how they understand various concepts!

I’ve talked a bit about their pronouns in the past: Linast (p.1), Phosa (p.2)

Otherwise, with 7 more years to think about it…

.

Linast:

I think over time Linast finds more satisfaction in being specifically nonbinary, and even more specifically in subverting masculinity.

He prefers never to be seen as a boy or a man, and in many ways his clothing preferences and the way he engages with his hobbies trend a bit more stereotypically femme. But he likes presenting with enough of a masc voice and build for those things to stand out as queer or GNC to the average (contemporary) human.

Another thing that leaves him more connected to playing with masculine identity is that he often tends to find the same things edgy and cool that a 12 year old boy might find edgy and cool. 🤣

.

Phosa:

I think that Phosa identifying as agender/genderless does speak to a real experience and feeling for her… and I also think that in some ways it’s a defense mechanism.

She doesn’t feel like a person in general, she specifically doesn’t want to be lumped in with humans or many human practices (including their gender constructs), she doesn’t like being seen to care about things that don’t have a practical justification or purpose, and she doesn’t want to think about why she cares about said things.

So no, dammit. She doesn’t have a gender, she doesn’t actually care about her pronouns beyond the fact that “she” is circumstantially convenient (and gives her an easy early flag for whether someone’s going to respect her choices or plaster their own assumptions on her), and she isn’t interested in playing with any of these concepts.

(…Except that if Linast changed pronouns and ‘she’ was no longer as ‘convenient,’ she still wouldn’t want to change hers. Except that she feels something closer to an identifying connection with most of the women in the Spire, regardless of species, than she does with most of the men or nonbinary folk. Except that she doesn’t think or feel like she is a woman but she does kind of want to be a woman.)

[justashadetalkative]

Details: Diamond

Realized that I’ve mentioned that Diamond has remnant vision, but that I’ve never gone too much into specifics.

So! Have some specifics. :)

(With the obligatory disclaimer that I am not a vision expert, nor do I have any significant visual impairment of my own. This is all just casual writing-motivated research! And like. Vague approximations. Static photos do not a lived experience make.)

.

Normal vision:

[Image description: A photograph of a blond modern archer in a green shirt, standing outside with bow drawn. End ID.]

.

Original vision loss:

Diamond’s Spire incarnation has non-syndromic Autosomal Dominant Optic Atrophy (ADOA), which causes color vision impairment (most often tritanopia) and reduced visual acuity (ranging from mild to severe). Diamond’s acuity loss was on the severe end, and left him legally blind.

[Image description: The original photo has been blurred and color adjusted. Facial features can no longer be made out and the background is entirely nonsensical. The edges of the image are clearer than the center. The colors are cyan and magenta; yellows and warm blues have been lost. End ID.]

.

Progressive vision loss:

Age-related macular degeneration has further damaged Diamond’s central vision.

[Image description: The blurred photo has now gained a darkened center, blotting out further details. Blurry peripheral vision remains. End ID.]

.

Not pictured:

Diamond obviously also only has monocular vision, with the loss of visual field and binocular depth perception that goes with that.

It’s much harder to represent that with a photo, though. Even the central vs. peripheral vision thing is already kind of iffy! A photo can’t really replicate the whole “wherever you actually look is blank” component of things…

.

Resources/references:

Whatever vaguely remembered research I’ve collected over the past 10-15 years, including seeing how macular degeneration is usually simulated in photos

Weapons and Combat Art Reference Pack

ADOA overview

Visual acuity tool

Color blindness simulator

[justashadetalkative]

(Plotted starter for @violeteyedkiller !)

There were many problems with cross-dimensional teleportation as a means of escape. For one thing, it was the kind of tricky, energy-intensive spellwork that really shouldn’t be performed in a rush. For another, it was far too easy for a hostile spellcaster to disrupt the spell.

The advantage, of course, was that very few people would have the means to follow; far fewer than could trace a simple spacial teleportation. Sometimes that gamble was worth it.

But a gamble it was, and in this case one with consequences. 

The world whirled as Diamond’s feet met the ground at an unhelpful angle and unmanageable speed. Diamond barely had time to register the painful click in his arm or the clatter of his dropped cane as he tumbled across the ground before he fetched up, jarringly, against some solid barrier. 

He lay there for a moment. Wheezed. Then he laughed, breathless and giddy, because well – the gamble paid off, and any unstable teleportation spell that still ended with the caster breathing on the other end of things was a win. 

Diamond could sense someone nearby, though, which was less good. 

“S’alright,” he said, or tried to say; had to gasp in a deeper breath and try again before it came out with any sense. “S’alright. Don’t panic. Ah – I don’t, don’t suppose you see my cane anywhere…?”

Give someone something to do – or to refuse to do – and sometimes it kept them from coming up with their own course of action. Diamond could only hope.

[justashadetalkative]

Rosy Touch: How do they show affection nonverbally? Are they likely to show affection with their words as well?

(Stonework Headcanons | Accepting!)

Diamond can be a bit reticent until he knows whether his affection is welcome or not, but once he has permission he’s very affectionate.

For nonverbal expression, physical affection is a big one! Anything from hugs to hair ruffling to leaning against someone’s side are really common gestures from Diamond. He also likes playful touch; he’ll frequently nudge someone’s side when he’s teasing them, for example.

Small gestures of care are another one; dropping off snacks or tea, straightening a loved one’s collar, fetching a blanket or turning lights on/off if someone seems uncomfortable, etc.

As for verbal affection, that can get a little more tangled; sometimes his self-deprecation can muddy things. >_>;

But he’s very warm with greetings and farewells towards loved ones. He’s pretty free with praise, especially with kids that he wants to encourage. Diminutives or small nicknames are a really common sign of affection from him; kiddo, sweetheart, etc.

He also likes to encourage people to talk about the things that they care about! On a similar front, he likes talking about the people he cares about and their accomplishments.

[justashadetalkative]

Whoops. That post was meant for main. Forgot which browser I was in. :'D

[justashadetalkative]

🏳️‍🌈 (a sexuality or attraction headcanon for your muses)

(Sexuality & Gender asks)

Both Phosa and Linast are completely and utterly aroace. Much like disgust, that kind of attraction is just an experience that’s completely alien to them.

Unlike disgust, this was not altered by their stint in humanoid bodies.

Linast is explicitly romance- and sex-repulsed. He wants nothing to do with any of it, and this remains true regardless of chronology.

Phosa is more indifferent. While attraction isn’t something she ever experiences, I think as she gets older she might eventually explore a bit.

[justashadetalkative]

🏳️‍🌈

(Sexuality & Gender asks)

I describe Diamond as both bi/pan because:

1) I kind of refuse to get into the linguistics discourse between the various plurisexual terms. Bi and pan are synonyms to me until the dust settles.

2) The bisexual word feels a little more fitting both for an old dude and for Diamond's particular flavor of gender and queer expression, thanks to my own context and biases. The colors of the bisexual flag also fit Diamond's character color coding more closely, which is fun.

3) If there ever was a need for a word trying to sound proactively broader or less gender-related than bi, then a context where a guy is additionally attracted to a broad range of species, has been a broad range of species himself, and himself regularly experiences different biological sexes and is sometimes multigender, kind of feels like the time. xD

[justashadetalkative]

🏳️‍🌈 ( for Diamond )

(Sexuality & Gender asks)

Diamond is often attracted to people who have made purposeful, decisive choices in their appearance. This does often take the form of being drawn to elegance, regardless of whether said elegance has a masculine or a feminine flavor; he likes sleek lines and purposeful colors, cohesive styles.

But the most important factor is conviction; he likes people who are willing to pursue the things that make them happy or comfortable, even when it makes them stand out!

[justashadetalkative]

Rehab for writing injuries

You’ve heard of “making writing a habit,” and you’ve tried, but the pressure to write fills you with horrible pain and dread. You spend all your time wishing you could write but somehow never writing. The “make it a habit” approach doesn’t work for you. But you still want to write, maybe even regularly. Is there nothing you can do?

Here is an alternative approach to try. A rehab program, as it were, for writers with a psychological “writing injury” that has destroyed their desire to write and replaced it with shame, anxiety and dread.

If you have a writing injury, you probably acquired it by being cruel to yourself, by internalizing some intensely critical voice or set of rules that crushes your will to write under the boot-heel of “you should.” “You should be writing better after all the years of experience you’ve had.” “You should be writing more hours a day, you’ll never get published at this rate.” “You should write more like [Hilton Als/Jeffrey Eugenides/Octavia Butler/Terry Pratchett/etc.].” “You should write faster/more/better/etc./etc.”

You know what, though? Fuck all that. Self-abuse may have featured heavily in the cool twentieth-century writer’s lifestyle, but we are going to treat ourselves differently. Because 1) it’s nicer, and 2) frankly, it gets better results. My plan here is to help you take the radical step of caring for yourself.

1) First of all: ask yourself why you aren’t writing. 

Not with the goal of fixing the problem, but…just to understand. For a moment, dial down all of the “goddammit, why can’t I just write?” blaring in your head and be curious about yourself. Clearly, you have a reason for not writing. Humans don’t do anything for no reason. Try to discover what it is. And be compassionate; don’t reject anything you discover as “not a good enough excuse.” Your reasons are your reasons.

For me, writing was painful because I wanted it to solve all my problems. I wanted it to make me happy and whole. I hated myself and hoped writing would transform me into a totally different person. When it failed to do that, as it always did, I felt like shit.

Maybe writing hurts because you’ve loaded it with similarly unfair expectations. Or maybe you’re a victim of low expectations. Maybe people have told you you’re stupid or untalented or not fluent enough in the language you write in. Maybe writing has become associated with painful events in your life. Maybe you’ve just been forced to write so many times that you can no longer write without feeling like someone’s making you do it. Writing-related pain and anxiety can come from so many different places.

2) Once you have some idea of why you’re not writing…just sit with that.

Don’t go into problem-solving mode. Just nod to yourself and say, “yes, that’s a good reason. If I were me, I wouldn’t want to write either.” Have some sympathy for yourself and the pain you’re in.

3) Now…keep sitting with it. That’s it, for the moment. No clever solutions. Just sympathize. And, most importantly, grant yourself permission to not write, for a while.

It’s okay. You are good and valuable and worthy of love, even when you aren’t writing. There are still beautiful, true things inside of you.

Here’s the thing: it’s very hard for humans to do things if they don’t have permission not to do them. It’s especially hard if those things are also painful. We hate feeling trapped or compelled, and we hate having our feelings disregarded. It shuts us down in every possible way. You will feel more desire to write, therefore, if you believe you are free not to write, and if you believe it’s okay not to do what causes you pain.

(By the way: not having permission isn’t the same as knowing there will be negative consequences. “If I don’t write, I won’t make my deadline” is different from “I’m not allowed not to write, even if it hurts.” One is just awareness of cause and effect; the other is a kind of slavery.)

4) For at least a week, take an enforced vacation from writing, and from any demands that you write. During this time, you are not permitted to write or give yourself grief for not writing. 

This may or may not be reverse psychology. But it’s more than that.

Think of it as a period of convalescence. You’re keeping your weight off an injury so it can heal, and what’s broken is your desire to write. Pitilessly forcing yourself to write when it’s painful, plus the shame you feel when you don’t write, is what broke that desire. So, for a week (or a month, or a year, or however long you need) tell yourself you are taking a doctor-prescribed break from writing.

This will feel scary for some folks. You might feel like you’re giving up. You might worry that this break from writing feels too good, that your desire to write might never return. All I can say is, I’ve been there. I’ve had all those fears and feelings. And the desire to write did return. But you gotta treat it like a tiny crocus shoot and not stomp on it the second it pokes its little head up. Like so:

5) Once you feel an itch to write again—once you start to chafe against the doctor’s orders—you can write a tiny bit. Only five or ten minutes a day. 

That’s it. I’m serious: set a timer, and stop writing when the time’s up. No cheating. (Well…maybe you can take an extra minute to finish your thought, if necessary.)

Remember: these rules are not like the old rules, the ones that said, “you must write or you suck.” These rules are a form of self-care. You are not imposing a cruel, arbitrary law, you are being gentle with yourself. Not “easy” or “soft”—any Olympic athlete will tell you that hard exercise when you’ve got an injury is stupid and pointless, not tough or virtuous. If you need an excuse to take care of yourself, that’s it: if you’re injured, you can’t perform well, and aggravating the injury could take you out of the competition permanently.

For the first few days, all of the writing you do should be freewriting. Later, you can do some tiny writing exercises. Don’t jump into an old project you stalled out on. Think small and exploratory, not big and goal-oriented. And whatever you do, don’t judge the output. If you have to, don’t even read what you write. This is exercise, not performance; this is you stretching your atrophied writing muscles, not you trying to write something good. At this stage, it literally doesn’t matter what you write, as long as you generate words. (Frankly, it would be kind of weird and unfair if your writing at this point was good.)

6) After a week, you can increase your time limit if you want. But only a little! 

Spend a week limiting yourself to, say, twenty minutes a day instead of ten. When in doubt, set your limit for less than you think you’ll need. You want to end each writing session feeling like you could keep going, not like you’re crawling across the finish line.

Should you write every day? That’s up to you. Some people will find it helpful to put writing on their calendar at the same time each day. Others will be horribly stifled by that. You get to decide when and how often you write, but two things: 1) think about what you, personally, need when you make that decision, and 2) allow that decision to be flexible.

Remember, the only rule is, don’t go over your daily limit. You always have permission to write less.

And keep checking in with yourself. Remember how this program began? If something hurts, if your brain is sending you “I don’t wanna” signals, respect them. Investigate them, find out what their deal is. You might decide to (gently) encourage yourself to write in spite of them, but don’t ignore your pain. You are an athlete, and athletes listen to their bodies, especially when they’re recovering from an injury. If writing feels shitty one day, give yourself a reward for doing it. If working on a particular project ties your brain in knots, do a little freewriting to loosen up. And always be willing to take a break. You always have permission not to write.

7) Slowly increase your limit over time, but always have a limit. 

And when you’re not writing, you’re not writing. You don’t get to berate yourself for not writing. If you find yourself regularly blazing past your limit, then increase your limit, but don’t set large aspirational limits in an effort to make yourself write more. In fact, be ready to adjust your limit lower.

When it comes to mental labor, after all, more is not always better. Apparently, the average human brain can only concentrate for about 45 minutes at a time, and it only has about four or so high-quality 45-minute sessions a day in it. That’s three hours. So if you set your daily limit for more than three hours, you may be working at reduced efficiency, when you’d be better off saving up your ideas and motivation for the next day. (Plus, health and other factors may in fact give you less than 3 good hours a day. That’s okay!)

Of course, if you’re a professional writer or a student, external pressures may force you to write when your brain is tired, but my point is more about attitude: constant work is not necessarily better work. So don’t make it into a moral ideal. We tend to think that working less is morally weak or wrong, and that’s bullshit. Taking care of yourself is practical. Pushing yourself too hard will just hurt you and your writing. Also, your feelings are real and they matter. If you ignore or abuse them, you’ll be like a runner trying to run on a broken ankle.

I know I’m going to get someone who says, “if you’re a pro, sometimes you gotta ignore your feelings and just get the work done!” 

NO. 

You can, of course, choose to work in spite of any pain you’re feeling. But ignore that pain at your peril. Instead, acknowledge the pain and be compassionate. Forgive yourself if pain slows you down. You are human, so don’t hold your feet to the fire for having human limitations. Maybe a deadline is forcing you to work anyway. But make yourself a cup of hot chocolate to get you through it, literally or metaphorically. Help yourself, don’t force yourself. If you’ve had a serious writing injury, that shift in attitude will make all the difference. 

In short: treat yourself as someone whose feelings matter.

Try it out! And let me know how it goes!

Ask a question or send me feedback!