#This was probably a little more talking than you expected but I am very particular about these sorts of things.

[beebfreeb]

Hiya! I'd like to ask how do you do your ms paint art? Do you first make the outlines and then colours, or perhaps vice versa? I really adore your ms paint art and would love to know the process (for practice purposes:))

Depends! My two strategies, featuring Cactus Gunman of Gregory Horror Show fame:

I often just color right on top of my sketches when I'm being silly + designing characters + just trying to figure out what something looks like (and tend to use this to fiddle with details and colors) It's usually quicker for me to end up with something that I'm happy with.

Most of the time when I bother to do separate, cleaner line art, it's because I'm making a graphic for my website. LOL. I think it feels a little more cartoonish-silly, which is usually what I'm going for when I decide to do this. It's also a bit harder to make large changes to whatever I'm drawing, so I'm usually working off of a messier thing I've already made.

(Technically, I no longer use MS Paint and instead use Aseprite due to becoming a Linux user, but nothing has really changed about the way I draw + all of this can be done in MS Paint just fine.)

[kaile-hultner]

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website. 

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode. 

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know. 

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s kaile@noescapevg.com. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support. 

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted. 

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years. 

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.” 

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH. 

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money. 

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time. 

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe. 

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on. 

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans 

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts. 

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving. 

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra. 

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life. 

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this. 

—Kaile

[loemius]

here’s my hot take of the night:

the e-temples that have been cropping up lately are cool, and im glad to see people making specific spaces to come together to worship. that’s awesome! i’m very here for that as a concept. i love nothing more than to see the theoi get the praise they deserve.

that being said, i am very wary about the amount of people i have seen calling themselves priests/priestesses lately. not even just in the e-temples! ive seen multiple people in the tags who have in their bio “priest(ess) of [deity].” i realize most people probably don’t mean harm by it, but it gets under my skin. to call yourself clergy implies a specific level of knowledge and experience with a religion (which isn’t my business to get involved in your praxis like that, that’s personal unless you wanna share it), but more importantly, official recognition by an established institution. there are not that many of these (that i am aware of) for hellenic polytheism. calling yourself clergy is simply that — calling yourself that. there’s no backing for it, and it genuinely concerns me.

we as the polytheist community talk a lot about harmful practices in spirituality, things like spiritual psychosis or cultural appropriation, which are important topics to discuss. it’s been said before and i’ll say again — people claiming to be spiritual authorities of some kind without any kind of proof can be very dangerous. i don’t assume anyone has bad intentions. i give people the benefit of the doubt and assume that everyone is just trying to help other people worship. but it doesn’t change the fact that calling yourself a priest(ess) will make impressionable or unsure people look up to you, and that is a hell of a lot of responsibility. i am concerned that there are minors running these kinds of blogs. that’s a lot of pressure on someone’s shoulders, especially to put on someone who is still growing up and developing their research and critical thinking skills. i don’t want to gatekeep or anything like that. im very glad to see minors having really good experiences with their faith, that they’re excited to share it with others. but it just concerns me.

im certainly not as experienced as other practitioners on this site, having had about two years of experience at this point, but i am very wary of anyone who claims to be any kind of authority on anything unless you can back it up. regardless of if your blog says that you’re not an authority, calling yourself clergy of any kind implies that. people will take it that way. it inherently implies a level of authority, knowledge, and experience on a particular subject, which is usually backed up by having an official institution that recognizes you.

perhaps this is a little callous of me, but in the same way that when someone makes a claim about the theoi academically, i expect them to have sources to prove it, i expect clergy to have some kind of proof of their authority. otherwise, what are you doing that’s different than any other tumblr blog?

to be clear, i don’t have an issue with these devotional spaces. i simply take an issue with people referring to themselves as clergy when that is a particular term with a particular context and a particular implication. words have power. i earnestly think if people just called themselves something like ‘stewards’ of a particular temple, i wouldn’t be so bothered by it. or just call yourself a devotee of a particular god. ultimately, at the end of the day, the words we use have power and implications, and that has to be acknowledged and respected. send tweet

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

The Red Tieflings Bachelors (Rolan and Zevlor) Reacting to You (Tav) Thanking Them

Featuring: Rolan/Tav; Zevlor/Tav

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my mind while working to clear the writer's block. I was feeling very low the last week or two, so I apologize for my inactivity here. And then I was on vacation with my family. Thankfully, I’m feeling better now. (Currently working on Yandere! Alucard Part 4 and the next ask. Yan! Part 4 will probably take a while because it's long-form (not hc), so expect the ask after that to be posted first.) 

Rolan

🔮 It was just another bustling day in Sorcerous Sundries when you decided to stop by,  a newfound magical item in hand. To no one’s surprise, it appeared your favorite tiefling wizard was too busy sorting through the inventory of Ramazith's Tower to man his shop, seeing it was his programmed illusion who greeted you with a relatively uncharacteristic amiable tone.  

“Welcome to the Sorcerous Sundries. Is there something in particular you’re looking for today?” 

Knowing Rolan, in reality, his body was pacing around Razamith’s Tower, nearly tearing his hair out, as he obsessively mumbled, sorting through the piles and piles of books and scrolls Lorroakan had gathered in his time. The compelling image in your mind was such a stark contrast to the one before you, that you bit your lip to prevent your signature mischievous smile from dawning across your face. 

“I believe Rolan left something upstairs for me.” 

The illusion looked at you, eyes narrowed, presumably scanning its programming for an appropriate response. Yet, just as Rolan’s Projection opened his mouth to speak (in all probability to deny you entry) your conversation was interrupted by a boisterous halfling patron, hoisting an item that he declared comprised of defective magic. 

Never one to waste a distraction, you took the opportunity to make your way up the stairs of Sorcerous Sundries to its second floor and into the correct portal leading to Razamith Towers. 

Upon entering the portal, you were met with the familiar sound of Lia and Cal bickering with none other than the new proprietor of Sorcerous Sundries himself. 

“If you simply spoke to them instead of pining inside this tower all day and night…” Lia went straight to the point as usual. 

“I am not pining!” You could hear Rolan answer, in his usual defensive tone. 

“I think what Lia means to say is, it would be easier for all involved if you were to simply ask them-” Always the mediator, Cal must have jumped in. It did not surprise you, seeing as how he was rather skilled when it came to talking his siblings down. 

“Ask who what?” You interrupted, the concrete visage of Razamith’s Towers finally greeting you. Despite having known the tiefling family for months now, you were always amused by their antics. “Does Rolan have his heart set on an apprenticeship with yet another asinine wizarding master?” You had a feeling Cal and Lia were referring to something else entirely, but you’d prefer to speak to Rolan alone about that. 

Rolan rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by both your sudden presence and your insistence on teasing him. “I no longer require a master, nor a teacher. Lorroakan gathered enough magical books and knowledge within these walls for me to teach myself all I could ever wish to know.” Behind him, his pointed tail lashed sideways, always ending with an upward flick of the point. To a fellow tiefling, his irritation would have been quite obvious. Then again, you were not a fellow tiefling. 

You nodded, ignoring Rolan’s wilful tone. You had become accustomed to his many displays of false irritation and indignation. More often than not, your headstrong ally was more bark than bite. “That may be,” you continued. “But in case it isn’t, I’ve brought you one more tome for your collection.”

Rolan’s entire posture, tail included, stiffened upon hearing your words. The tiefling wizard was in disbelief. A gift? For him? But, why?

Lia smirked, before elbowing Cal, whose own knowing expression soon followed suit, spreading across his face. Nodding to each other, two brother-sister duo walked off, leaving you and Rolan alone, standing in a near deafening silence. 

“It’s a tome on the origins of The Weave, or, at least I think it is. That’s what Gale told me anyway.” 

Rolan's previously erect shoulders slumped at the mention of your former traveling companion’s name. “Ah yes, Gale, The Great Wizard of Waterdeep. How is he faring these days?” 

“Better,” you answered honestly. “It seems not living with a ticking time bomb just inside your chest does a man some good.” 

Rolan brushed off your attempt at lightening the mood, pushing past you to a stack of unsorted books piled on an end table to your left. “I assume the two of you have kept in touch then?” 

“Rolan!” You mock gasped. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” 

“Pfft, you’ve clearly let the title of Hero go to your head. Why would I be jealous of a mere professor at Blackstaff Academy when I possess an entire library of magical writings, a shop full of magical items, and several arcane cannons to defend all of the former?” 

“He’s a very respected professor, and there’s something to be said for enjoying the simpler things in life.” 

Rolan scoffed once again. “He had the power to be a God and turned it down. After enduring all your group did, taking on the shadow curse, fighting the goblins, destroying the Absolute, a job instructing ungrateful, know-it-all brats hardly seems like a reward.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Well, it’s what Gale wanted. But I do have to wonder,” you slowly stalked towards the red tiefling, “If a very coveted and respected position of authority isn’t something you'd consider a reward, what exactly qualifies as recompense to the mighty Wizard of Razamith’s Tower?” 

Slowly, you trailed a finger up along Rolan’s robed arm, delighting in the little gasp that slipped from his lips. 

He both hated and loved how you could make him feel like this. How just one word, one look from you could leave him a needy, wanton mess, how he longed for you to step even closer, for his body to press up entirely against yours. In the back of his mind, he imagined what it would feel like for your strong weathered hands to run down his red infernal skin, but that time, with no gloves or thick robes in the way. 

Rolan was certain you knew the degree of power you held over him. He was sure you delighted in pushing and prodding at his buttons, drawing out each one of your visits with flirtation and playful verbal sparring.

“What… about…a…?” you enunciated each word with another swipe of your finger across his robe’s velvety material, your face moving ever so slowly closer to his. 

Finding his composure, Rolan shrugged off your advances with a shaky sigh. “Spit it out already. I don’t have all day.” Defiantly, he turned to face you, calling your bluff. His lips were mere inches from yours: red, plump, and just begging to be kissed. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, you continued to press forward, pressing your lips to his. 

With a breathy sigh, Rolan’s tension melted away as he melded his mouth back onto yours. 

Reaching up with one hand, you cupped the back of his head, ever so gently pulling him even closer to you. 

Rolan moaned into the kiss and moved to grab your waist, but before his hands could secure you in his grasp, you stepped away just as smoothly and silently as you had stepped forward. 

Embarrassed and flustered, Rolan flashed you his pointy teeth in a frustrated groan. “Why must you tease me so? Have you not grown tired, frequently coming here just to pester me?” 

You beamed, proud to see your previous suspicions confirmed. “No,” you stated, matter-of-factly. “It’s too much fun! Besides,” you held the book out for him to take. “You didn’t seem all that excited about my earlier thanks, and that simply wouldn’t do.” 

Rolan rolled his eyes, accepting the tome with a huff, his tail back to swishing violently behind him. “Was that what that was? And here I thought you were trying to come up with new ways to annoy me.” 

“Annoy you?!” You mock gasped. “Surely my kiss was not that bad.” 

“For a ‘thank you’, that kiss was highly inappropriate, it! Well…” he trailed off, his cheeks somehow blushing an even warmer shade of red. 

You tilted your head, encouraging the tiefling to go on. 

Rolan avoided your gaze, pretending to find interest in the book you had just gifted him. His voice was quiet, but also self-assured. “It was entirely too short of a kiss to count as a ‘thank you’. You might as well just have given me a peck on the cheek.” 

Rolan continued flipping pages of the tome, doing his best to act uninterested in your kiss and your presence, even though the both of you knew all too well it was a lie. 

“Don’t worry,” you started to take your leave, giving Rolan a playful pat on the shoulder. You paused for a moment, leaning into his ear to whisper, “I’ll make sure the next time I pester you goes more in your favor.”    

Watching your form retreat into the portal, Rolan brought a finger to lips, just ghosting along the surface you had latched onto not seconds before. 

Emerging from their eavesdropping positions, Cal and Lia could not help but give Rolan a pair of mischievous smiles. 

Watching as the whirls of the portal spun around you, you overheard one last bit of conversation just before your body was transported back to the upper floor of Sorcerous Sundries.

“Not one word,” Rolan warned, his stern body language failing to conceal the pleased sound within his voice. 

“Told you to just ask them out.” 

“Lia!” 

Zevlor

⚔️ It had been some time since you defeated The Absolute. Of course, despite the changing season, much of Baldur’s Gate was in need of repair and renovation. While Halsin had taken many refugees to his new settlement in Reithwin, a part of the former Shadow-Cursed Lands, many chose to remain in the city and restart their lives there. Being a frequent flyer of the city yourself, you found it easy to visit those who chose to stay behind. One such individual, a former Hellrider called Zevlor, was someone you found yourself visiting more than the others. 

You shifted the rather large rectangle basket within your grasp, moving it so it rested within the crook of your left arm as you freed your right hand, before raising it to knock upon the unmarked door before you. Faintly, you could make out whispered gossip floating up from the stairs behind you, but you paid the hushed voices no mind. Sure, to outsiders it may have seemed odd that the savior of Badlur’s Gate was so keen on visiting the same acquaintance, one who resided in such simple dwellings, but to you the luxury afforded as a hero and adventurer paled in comparison to a good conversation between friends. 

‘Friends’. The word echoed in your head, like a schoolmarm repeating the dishonest words of a misbehaved child. 

In truth, you found yourself more drawn to the older paladin than perhaps you’d like to admit. You found your admiration and respect for the former Hellrider only grew with each passing visit, and now, there was hardly a day the tiefling did not fondly cross your mind. 

Then again, those silly girlish feelings would no doubt ruin the peaceful nature of your current relationship with Zevlor, so you pushed them aside in favor of maintaining a friendship while pining rather than speaking your truth and risking having no relationship at all. 

Hearing a shuffle of objects on the other side of the door, you smiled and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. It was just like any other day, there was no reason to get nervous now. 

“Ah, Tav,” Zevlor opened the door with a soft smile, “Right on time, as usual.” Always the gentleman, Zevlor stepped back, holding the door open for you. 

“My parents always said punctuality is a virtue,” you smiled, remembering their words fondly. “As much as I try to embody their lessons, this life doesn’t present many opportunities to do so, so I like to fit them in where I can.” 

Zevlor hummed, closing the door behind you. “They must be proud of you. Not every parent can claim their daughter is one of the great heroes of Baldur’s Gate.” 

Walking over to the settee just beyond the door, you took your usual spot seated on the right-hand side of the rather cramped sitting area. Despite being inside Zevlor’s home many times, you still found yourself amazed at how the tiefling managed to move around without knocking his tail into everything. 

The furnished room Zevlor currently resided in was a single-room loft, settled above a rather quaint little cafe spot in the lower part of the city. It wasn’t much, and it had very little privacy, especially for visitors, but that was little concern of yours. And despite Zevlor’s constant apologies for the small space, you felt more at home seated inside his little apartment than you did your camp at times. 

In the corner opposite the door, a cast-iron stove and a washing basin with a faucet were secluded just beyond a shutter-style room divider. You knew from previous visits that was where Zevlor always warmed the kettle for your meeting tea. Next to the settee you were seated on was a single dresser, about waist high. Upon it sat the few various plates and utensils Zevlor used daily as well as the collection of mismatched tea cups and teapots. And despite never seeing the inside of them, you assumed the drawers of the dresser housed his clothing and armor. Although, you must admit you were rather curious as to how he got his chainmail and breastplate to fit. 

Directly across from the settee, on the opposite wall was a twin-sized bed, undoubtedly too small for the tiefling paladin, even if he was never one to complain. Zevlor always kept it neatly made, the sheets all tucked in evenly, almost as if no one had slept in it the night prior. You supposed he had no choice, if he wished to entertain guests, as there was no way for their eyes to avoid it. Then again, a part of you had a feeling that order and precision were just key elements of who Zevlor was. Despite no longer being a Hellrider, and having long broken his oath as a paladin, several of his attributes like discipline and respect went far beyond any former occupation or title. 

Setting your surprise gift onto the wooden coffee/dining table before you, you answered Zevlor’s observation with a much more melancholy smile. “I’d like to think that, if they were still here, that yes, they’d be proud.” 

Taken aback by your revelation, Zevlor’s face fell before he recanted. “Tav, forgive me. I did not know your parents had passed. But I do still believe that regardless of where their souls may be now, they are looking upon you with pride.” 

Careful not to accidentally knock you with his tail, Zevlor retrieved the teapot, ready with tea already steeping, and two of the mismatched cups, before he returned to be seated next to you. 

Due to the tight nature of the room’s layout, and the small stature of the settee, every visit between the two of you resulted in your knees touching. In the beginning, Zevlor was overly apologetic, insisting he could instead sit on the bed, and allow you to have the sofa all to yourself, but you insisted the proximity was more than fine. You knew many people still saw tieflings as devils, monsters, or hellspawns, but you were not among them. The tieflings were just like any other race you had encountered on your journey: they were simply doing their best to survive. 

If anything, the hardships Zevlor and the tiefling refugees endured before arriving in Emerald Grove only made you respect them more. You were no stranger to hardship. You knew how difficult it was to have to get back up after you’ve been beaten; particularly how hard it was to accomplish the sixth or seventh time around, but it was something Zevlor managed to do with dignity when leading his people. 

You knew he did not see it similarly, his mind having been temporarily corrupted by The Absolute, but you would have fared no better if it was not for The Emperor’s intrusion. Truth be told, few minds ever could have resisted such a powerful psychic force. And even though several of Zevlor’s former tiefling friends and allies held him in contempt to this day, you could not bring yourself to agree with them. 

After the tea had been poured and sipped, your comfortable silence gave way to conversation. 

“How long will you be in the city this time? Any adventures planned for the future?” Zevlor asked. 

“I do have some news,” you admitted, placing your teacup down. “I’ve been thinking of this for a while now, but I needed some time to come to terms with it.” 

Zevlor motioned for you to go on. 

“Well, it’s been nearly seven months since our victory against The Absolute, against Gortash, Orin, and Ketheric Thorm. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands have blossomed into a new hope for so many people. I’ve thought about hanging up my adventurer’s hat. At least for now.” 

“I see. And what will you do with all your spare time? Travel? The Sword Coast has much to see, or so I’m told.” 

You shook your head. “I’ve been thinking of settling down.” You fiddled with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. “Maybe starting a family.” 

“Oh,” came Zevlor’s deflated response. “I see.”  

You placed a reassuring hand on Zevlor’s shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people. And I want to continue to do it. But I think I can do it differently, in a way where I can have both, ya know?” 

Zevlor nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes, certainly. It makes sense. You’re young, you want to live life to the fullest but you also don’t want to live it alone. I understand perfectly.” 

Seeing Zevlor’s downtrodden posture, you brought your hand down from his shoulder and placed it on top of his. “The reason I wanted to tell you was because, well, I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to come with me?” 

Zevlor’s eyes snapped up. “I’m- I’m sorry?” 

“I found a house, a cottage in east of Reithwin. It’s nothing fancy, and it’s most certainly in need of some major repairs but there are two rooms. It’d be away from the chaos of the city, in a town itself that is starting anew. I thought, there’d be a chance, you’d prefer those circumstances as opposed to living here.” 

Zevlor swallowed harshly. “I’m not certain what to say. You’ve already been such a help to me and my people. You’ve forgiven me even after… I do not know if such an old tiefling like myself is worthy of such kindness.” 

“Oh Zevlor,” you sighed, pulling the older man in for a reassuring hug. “You deserve this kindness and more. You’ve survived so much, and you’re the reason so many others have survived. You stood up and fought The Absolute’s Army when it descended upon the city. You could have hidden. You knew what kind of power it had, you knew all too well the way it could destroy your mind. But you chose to do the right thing. You’re incredibly brave, and I wish you could hear me say that and believe it.” 

Letting Zevlor go, you could see the faintest bit of water welling up within his eyes. But to further spare the former Hellrider any embarrassment, you thought it best if you took this time to go. 

Standing up, you carefully slid over the rectangle box towards Zevlor before making your way toward the door. 

“What’s this?” Zevlor asked, taking a good look at the box. 

“Oh, I saw them at the market the other day, and I wanted you to have them.” 

“Tav, please,” Zevlor started, his hands held up in protest. “You’ve already given me so much. I couldn’t possibly-” 

You cut him off before he could start his whole self-deprecating spiel up again. “It’s nothing big, just a token. I wanted you to have your own set. That way, even if you don’t wish to come along with me, we’ll be able to use and enjoy them when I come and visit you here.” 

You opened the door, letting yourself out. But before you descended the stairs, you turned to face Zevlor one more time. “I’ll be at the Elfsong Tavern for a few more days, I have some things to get in order, some other people to see. I want you to know we’ll still be… friends if you don’t change your mind. Although,” you spoke, a relaxed smile upon your face. “I truly hope you will.” 

You reached for the doorknob, pulling it closed behind you. 

Zevlor waited, listening to your footsteps as your boots descended the stairs. When he was sure you were not going to return, his clawed fingers moved to carefully remove the top of the box, being mindful not to scratch the contents inside. Once the lid was off, the softest of gasps escaped his red lips. 

Nestled in the box was a matching tea set: one teapot, three teacups, three saucers, one sugar bowl, and one cream pitcher. The rims of everything were painted to look gold, and the main design itself was a collection of watercolor flowers, each very dainty yet boldly elegant. 

Gently, one of Zevlor’s hands grazed over his knee on the part where yours rested against his just moments ago. 

“Friends,” Zevlor spoke aloud. The word repeated inside the Hellriders mind. But unlike the commanding voice of The Absolute, it was soft and sweet and entirely in your tone. And in its echo a second word emerged, although similar in sound and nature, the weight of it felt differently settled upon his heart. 

‘Family,’ Zevlor thought looking down at the tea set you gifted him. ‘Yes, I do think I would like that.’ 

A/N 2.0: Can you tell how much of a soft spot I have for Zevlor? Related Fun fact I took a BG3 personality quiz once, and it said that I’m him due to my longtime suffering and constant masochist desire to keep doing the right thing even though life punishes me for it…

(个_个)

As always, please Like and most importantly, REBLOG!

Also if you enjoyed it, consider Tipping Me Via Kofi! <3 

[honeygrahambitch]

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

more Singin' in the Rain ot3, now on the honeymoon boat

part one

part two

The ship was a grand one. Cosmo, whose nautical knowledge began and ended with that Douglas Fairbanks picture about pirates, could tell that much. There was a majestic dining room and a wide, clean promenade and state-of-the-art engines that would get them to Europe in just a few days. The dining room even featured a four-piece band, who were a little stiff but not half bad.

His room, his island of privacy away from Don and Kathy and their combined magnetic pull, was bigger than he expected, well-appointed. It went a little overboard embracing an Egyptian theme, although the decorators had tastefully stopped short of including an actual mummy in a giant stone sarcophagus. He was grateful for that. The piano, as promised, sat in the place of where a desk might normally be, keys gleaming invitingly.

There was just one problem.

“How,” said Cosmo, dropping onto the bed, “did you manage to accidentally book us two adjoining rooms?”

“I’m sorry,” said Don, crossing his arms. “There must’ve been a mix-up at the offices.”

“Maybe the travel agent heard wrong on the telephone,” said Kathy. She rubbed Don’s back consolingly. Don shot her a grateful look. It was all very sweet, probably.

“How?” said Cosmo again. “Nothing sounds like ‘adjoining.’ It doesn’t even have a rhyme.”

“Are you certain?” said Kathy.

Cosmo nodded; he’d already run through the alphabet, twice. “The closest I can get to is ‘disappointing.’” Don was leaning into Kathy’s back rub like a cat, but his face was full of uncatlike guilt. “Don,” said Cosmo, “look, pal, I appreciate the free ticket, but please tell me you’ll fix this.”

“I already talked to the cruise director and there aren’t other rooms,” said Don. “We’re out in the ocean, what do you want me to do, alert the coast guard?”

“Alert the coast guard,” said Cosmo, “flag down a passing mermaid, strike a bargain with Poseidon himself!” 

“Who?” said Don.

“The Greek god of the sea,” said Kathy, like that was the important part.

“I don’t speak any Greek,” Don replied, “do you?”

“I will swim to shore,” Cosmo said, to nobody in particular.

“We can swap over to a different ship when we get to port if we need to,” said Don, shoulders slumping uncharacteristically. He must’ve felt worse about his screw-up than he let on. “In the meantime, the door locks from both sides, so—”

“I’m not—worried that you’ll barge in at all hours pestering me for a cup of sugar,” Cosmo broke in.

Don blinked. Kathy went very still beside him.

Out loud, it sounded more suggestive than he’d meant. Why had he picked sugar, the sauciest ingredient of the baking world?

“Or flour,” he amended.

“Then what’s the trouble?”

“I.” Cosmo sighed. “Why am I the only person in this room who seems to know what a honeymoon is for?”

“Why,” said Don, wide-eyed, “what’s it for?”

“D’you think, if I jumped in the sea and started paddling now—” said Cosmo.

“Don’t worry,” said Kathy. “Don and I can be very quiet.”

And the trouble was, this was worse. The prospect of hearing them from the other side of a single thin door was one thing, and honestly it was plenty bad—Cosmo had played a role during several key moments of their courtship but at least he could say he didn’t know what they sounded like in the throes of passion—but for reasons that Cosmo did not feel like examining, the thought of them stifling themselves in the act, the thought of them naked in bed together, touching each other, biting down on a giggle or a moan, and whispering, ‘Shh, don’t wake Cosmo,’ made him feel like his whole stomach was a sore tooth.

“Don’t put yourselves out on my account,” he told them. Belatedly, he realized that was maybe the worst thing he could’ve said. He blushed, and then he stood, face still flaming—Damn his Irish complexion—nodded to them both, and fled to the promenade.

.

The ocean stretched in all directions as far as Cosmo could see. It was dizzying, and also strangely calming. He stared out at the waves and reminded himself, hardly for the first time, that it wasn’t Don’s fault how Cosmo felt about him. It wasn’t Don’s fault, and it wasn’t Kathy’s fault that she was maybe the most charming woman he’d ever met. You could certainly blame Don for booking the rooms, for not double-checking over the telephone, but there was no malice to it. They were both, at the end of the day, wonderful people who had decided to open this trip up to him for whatever reason, and besides, his bed was piled with any number of pillows he could jam over his head if they did make noise at night.

He stood there holding onto the railing for a long time. Eventually, he heard footsteps behind him. 

“Feeling better?” said Don quietly, almost lost under the roar of the water. Without really trying to, Cosmo turned to look at him. Under his coat, Don was wearing a nicer suit than before, and the color had returned to his face. He looked—well, he looked like a handsome movie star married to a gorgeous starlet. Don took a few steps and rested his hands next to Cosmo’s on the rail.

“It’s the salt air, I think,” said Cosmo, nodding. “Feels like I could do anything. Why, I might write another musical, wear my trousers baggy, become a pirate.��

“Your trousers are fine as is,” said Don.

Cosmo shrugged. “A little change can be good.”

“Sure, unless it isn’t.” Don sighed. It was an awfully sad sigh to be having about the fit of a guy’s pants, Cosmo thought, but then Don turned to him and added, “You know, we really have missed you.”

“Don,” said Cosmo patiently. “I was at your house this Thursday. I stayed for three hours. I drank all your gin.”

Don didn’t make a crack about the gin, which was probably a bad sign. “And before that?” 

Before that, it had been a while. Cosmo winced inwardly. “I’ve been busy,” he said, “you’ve been busy, Kathy’s been busy—”

“We invited you over, four different times,” Don interjected. “If I’ve done something, if we’ve done something, I wish you would just tell us.”

In front of them, the sea rolled and rolled. Cosmo thought about deflection, about twisting the moment into a joke, a sword duel where cold steel met only an outstretched rubber chicken: squeak.

He let out a long breath. “Why the Hell did you bring me along on your honeymoon?”

“We brought you along because we wanted you along,” said Don. “Whenever you’re not there, we wish you were. It doesn’t need to be any harder than that.”

“So it isn’t…” Cosmo started.

“What?” “You and Kathy aren’t having problems? Hoping for a buffer, or a distraction?” It was a very new theory on Cosmo’s part, and once the words had left his mouth, he realized how badly they fit the facts at hand.

Don smiled a private little smile. “Me and Kathy are doing just marvelously.”

“That’s splendid,” said Cosmo, because he had to say something, apparently. Marvelous didn’t bode well for Cosmo’s sanity at night, but it beat his friends being sad. “Lovely.” He let his cadences drift into a so-so British accent. “Capital show, old sport. Tip-top. Simpy spiffing.” Not his best work. 

Don lay a hand on Cosmo’s coat sleeve, at the elbow. “Do you want to come to dinner with us?” he said. “It’s meant to be a formal affair but you’ve still got time to change.”

Whenever you’re not here, we wish you were. Obviously, Don didn’t mean “whenever” in the strictest sense—Cosmo got the feeling he was not present in Don’s mind, say, when Don was in bed with his beautiful wife—but the thought now made him feel warmer than the gin had. It would be enough. It had to be.

“Sure,” said Cosmo, “why not,” and Don thumped him encouragingly on the back.

“Cosmo,” said Don as they headed back into the body of the boat, “piracy, really?” Cosmo grinned. “Don’t blame me, blame that salt air. Makes a man feel like anything’s possible.”

.

Kathy and Don looked enchanting at dinner, and Cosmo cleaned up alright too, if he didn’t say so himself.

The food was good—salmon with hollandaise sauce and French beans, braised duckling with apple sauce, some fancy beef thing, salad Dumas and ice cream for dessert—and the band had relaxed a smidge and was playing something from this century, which was nice.

Over dessert, Kathy told them about how, one night several months before meeting Don, she’d been at a speakeasy during what turned out to be a police raid.

“What were you doing in a speakeasy?” Cosmo asked before he could stop to think about it.

“Why, drinking milk and reading Austen, of course,” she replied, a picture of guilelessness. Don snickered, and she grinned.

“I walked full-speed into that one,” said Cosmo.

“Buddy, you ran,” said Don.

“I was drinking,” Kathy acknowledged, nodding, “but really that’s where the best dancing is. The best music, too.”

Cosmo, who lately only drank at parties or at home because it was easier and safer, nodded thoughtfully.

“Hot jazz?”

“The hottest, at least in Los Angeles. Once we’re back, we should all go!”

“I could always stand to take in more culture,” said Cosmo.

“Oh no,” said Don, “don’t let her pull you into her sordid past. Did you forget the end of the story is ‘and then the police came?’”

“That’s more the middle,” said Kathy. “Well, middle-end.”

“So how’d you escape the reaching arm of the law?” Cosmo asked.

Kathy swallowed her ice cream. “I saw the police were all rushing in through the front door, and I dashed to the back and through the performers’ dressing room. I’d done makeup for some of my school plays, so I fought my way up to the mirror, grabbed a grease pencil—a few lines here, a few lines there—borrowed an old coat of the back of a chair, ran maybe half a block, and pretended to be an old lady.”

“Really,” said Cosmo.

“It’s mostly in the walk and the posture,” she said. “And it helps that a few of the street lights were out.”

“And the cops were fooled?”

“One of them asked me if I’d seen any young people running that way,” said Kathy.

Cosmo clapped his hands together with glee. “Don, you married a criminal mastermind! Never make her angry.”

Don wrapped an arm around her shoulders and flashed her a besotted look. “I don’t intend to.”

Kathy nestled into the half-embrace. “Tell me more about—was it Coyoteville? With the ventriloquist.”

“Dead Man’s Fang,” said Cosmo. “And your wish is my command, but I don’t know what else there is to say. We came, we saw, we lost our sleeping arrangements to a puppet.”

“He tucked it in that night, remember?” said Don suddenly.

“He did!” said Cosmo, delighted.

Sometimes when Don started in on the official line about how they’d studied at the conservatory and the rest of that baloney, Cosmo worried that some part of Don believed it, that it was Cosmo’s job alone to remember how long they’d traveled that strange, bumpy, often farcical road together towards some measure of success and respectability in Hollywood. But Cosmo had completely forgotten that particular detail. He had burned it from his mind.

“After he fell asleep, one of you might have moved the dummy and claimed that bed,” Kathy pointed out.

“He left it with the head turned facing us, eyes open,” said Don. “Neither of us were touching that thing.”

“So instead, Cosmo had to put up with Don all night,” said Kathy solemnly.

“So instead, I had to put up with Don all night.”

He could still recall the potent mix of resignation, terror, and guilty excitement he’d felt, huddling up on that mattress together. Their act at the time had involved being in close quarters a lot—at one point, the choreography had Cosmo leap onto Don’s back and then immediately continue playing the fiddle—so it wasn’t like touching Don was a novelty, back then. But doing it offstage, out of costume, away from any onlookers except for Esther Quill the ventriloquist dummy, it had felt like an entirely different proposition. 

Don had been a real champ about it, though. When Cosmo had started shaking with withheld hilarity that this was his life, the punchline of all punchlines and nobody to share it with, not just Don’s best friend but his literal bedwarmer, Don had clearly assumed it was a simple case of the shivers, and so he’d bundled Cosmo close, tucked Cosmo’s head under his chin, and wrapped his arms around him, muttering warm in his ear about how if Cosmo dropped dead, Don was out a dance partner “and that whole routine wouldn’t work as a solo number, it’d go over like a brick.”

“Just imagine what barnyard animal they’d have you opening for then,” Cosmo had whispered back, because Oatmeal, Nebraska had already happened to them. “A pig who juggles. A cow acrobat. A chicken magician. Just a little sleight of wing, folks, nothing up my feathers.”

And Don had laughed, and held Cosmo tighter, and the ventriloquist had shushed them, which had made them both crack up again. It had been a long night, and not one Cosmo would forget in a hurry.

“Who runs hot as a Holland furnace, let me tell you,” he added now, in case his tone had shifted a few shades too close to dreamy.

“Oh, I know,” said Kathy, smiling.

Don raised an accusing finger at him. “Well, you were shaking like a leaf! You’re lucky I was there, especially when we didn’t have so much as a sheet of our own!”

“Wait, why didn’t you have any blankets?” asked Kathy.

“The blankets,” said Don airily, “were for the puppet.”

.

And so dinner had been a joy, and after that, Don and Kathy invited him back to their room for a drink or two, because they’d had the common sense to bring alcohol, which was of course not offered by the cruise. The three of them sat on Don and Kathy’s bed (much bigger than Cosmo’s—not that he was jealous, he didn’t need the space, but the sheer expanse of mattress really did rival a small country, and Cosmo was determined not to picture in any detail how the two newlyweds might make use of that) and passed a flask around and had some more laughs and when Cosmo next got a glimpse of his watch, it was three in the morning.

“I should go,” he said.

“You don’t have to,” said Kathy. She’d shucked off her heels at some point and now her stocking feet were in Cosmo’s lap. Don sat on her other side, head on her shoulder. He’d loosened his tie early on, and his suitcoat was draped over one of the bedposts. While they were drinking, it had all felt very natural. Looking at them now, Cosmo had the sense he was intruding on something private, something intimate.

Granted, they weren’t exactly trying to kick him out, but Kathy was drunk, or tired, or else she was both drunk and tired, and it was up to Cosmo not to outstay his welcome. They had a whole two weeks together, after all, and their rooms were barely a wall apart.

“My regrets, Cinderella,” said Cosmo, “but I can feel myself turning back into a pumpkin.” 

He made as if to stand, but her feet were in the way. Very gently, he picked up her ankles, lifted them off his legs, stood, turned her like they were doing some sort of a dance move, and deposited her feet in Don’s lap instead.

“There,” he said to no one. 

A long pause followed. Don and Kathy blinked up at him. He sorely regretted moving her. It had seemed like the most elegant solution. Probably he should’ve found one that didn’t involve taking hold of her legs, skin warm through the thin layer of nylon–

Kathy’s brow furrowed. “What makes you the carriage?” she said at last.

“What?” said Cosmo, who really did need to make an exit. 

“Cinderella,” said Don, apparently reading her mind, which was swell for them.

“Better that than the mouse footman,” Cosmo told her. “Or the lizard coachman. Or the horse.” Or—who else? There were a lot of characters in Cinderella, he realized.

“There’s a prince in that story, Cosmo,” said Kathy. “A human prince.”

“Yes,” said Cosmo, patiently, “and you’re married to him, your highness,” He sketched a little bow but Don and Kathy weren’t looking at him. They were having one of those silent couple conversations, with mostly their eyes and eyebrows. A career in movies before the advent of sound had probably given Don a real advantage in that department, Cosmo thought, although Kathy seemed to be holding her own.

“It’s a made-up fairytale,” Kathy said at last. “Why, it can go any way you want it to.”

“The lady’s got a point,” said Don.

Cosmo blinked. He knew how it sounded, knew that to the untrained ear, it certainly—there were overtones, or undertones, or just plain tones that vibrated with suggestion. Cosmo had grown up in Vaudeville and now he lived in Hollywood; these things happened every now and then. These things did not happen to Cosmo. He was good for a dance or a laugh, and nine times out of ten, that was enough for him, but he wasn’t exactly fending off amorous advances—not like Don, and probably not like Kathy, either.

Also, Don liked women. Don only liked women, as far as Cosmo knew, and they had lived out of each other’s pockets for years.

The fact that a late-night ménage à trois rendezvous was increasingly the only explanation that held water in his head—it said more about Cosmo’s fragile mental state than it did about Don and Kathy’s true motives, he decided.

Don and Kathy who were still sitting on the bed, waiting for some sort of response.

“I wouldn’t, uh,” Cosmo started, and then realized with a stab of panic that for once, he didn’t have a joke in the wings, waiting to go. “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said.

“You said earlier today you might become a pirate,” Don offered. Kathy cuddled up close against his side, watching with bright, intent eyes. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Enter pirate, stage left.”

“I said I was thinking about it,” said Cosmo, trying not to sound affected and missing by a mile. “A fella can think about all kinds of things he wouldn’t do.”

Case in point: Cosmo was not about to climb back into bed with them, no matter how cozy that bed was, no matter how warm and inviting and beautiful the two of them looked together.

His hands were starting to shake, he realized, and if Don saw that, and past experience was any judge, Cosmo might spend the night being cuddled for warmth again. What was Cosmo’s life? He didn’t go in for horoscopes, but maybe he should’ve, maybe that was the key to understanding the whole puzzle: Cosmo Brown, born under the one constellation that resembled clown shoes. He swallowed back a hysterical laugh and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Why not?” said Kathy quietly.

Because he didn’t want to ruin his oldest friendship and his most promising new one, all in a single go. Because he hated rejection, and the thought of two no’s that close together made his head spin unpleasantly. Because then there would be no more innocent touches and smiles and nightcaps in Don and Kathy’s room. 

That wasn’t what she’d asked, though. Mentally, he shook himself.

“If everyone who thought about being a pirate became one, the whole US of A would fall apart,” Cosmo informed them. “Nobody would work, or pay taxes, or go to see films. Not to mention the national parrot shortage—just try to get ahold of birdseed anymore! There’d be a run on eyepatches and tri-corner hats, and the price of a simple pirate earring would shoot through the roof, in fact—”

“It’d cost a buccaneer,” Don filled in. He sounded almost sad, which was a mystery because that bit was evergreen.

“That’s right,” said Cosmo. He rocked back onto his heels, at a loss for a moment. He’d really been counting on that joke to clear the air.

“Cosmo,” said Kathy. “Do you want to go, or do you want to want to go?”

Cosmo struggled to make sense of that. He struggled to parse it in a way that worked outside his own feverish imagination. His entire mind came up short. That was where it got you, going on the road with only an eighth grade education, he thought. His was a cautionary tale. 

Maybe ninth grade was where they taught you how not to twist a moment in your head to the point where it really did seem like maybe Cosmo could’ve kissed either of them, could’ve kissed both of them, and it would’ve been fine, or even more than fine. Maybe it was that, and Dickens, and Geography; Cosmo still could not locate Siam on a map. Or Paris. Come to think of it, ménage à trois and rendezvous were the only French he knew besides bonjour. This time, he did laugh. It was that or scream.

“I am both too drunk, and not drunk enough for this talk,” he said, turning for the door that led directly back to his room.

“If you’d rather stay—” said Don.

“Of course I’d rather stay, Don,” Cosmo snapped, sharper than he’d meant to. “But leave me enough dignity to fill half a shotglass, at least.” Don and Kathy said nothing. When he got to the door, he sighed. “Sorry, that was—I’m sorry. See you at breakfast.” “Goodnight,” said Kathy.

Alone in his room, Cosmo closed the door and ran his hands through his hair. Pirates in Cinderella, he thought. Offers to stay, with his room not 30 paces away, at three hours past midnight. Maybe it would all make sense in the morning.

[elyvorg]

The Real Reason That Sissel Refused to Help

(or: the subtle genius of Ghost Trick’s tutorial)

“I just want to find my own lost memory. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Here’s a post in which I talk about this particular part of Ghost Trick’s story, which I’m keeping as vague as possible outside of the spoiler cut, but those who’ve finished the game should know what I’m referring to. What’s actually going on here is rather interesting, and paints our friend Sissel in a much less negative light than the face-value assumption I tend to see most people jumping to with this.

First, though, I have written a fic illustrating this idea in narrative form rather than lengthily explaining it. If you’re interested, I recommend you go read that first before reading this, because being shown is more fun than being told!

(Also, spoilers, obviously. Go play Ghost Trick if you haven’t; it’s so good and absolutely not the kind of thing you want to be spoiled for.)

So, in the original timeline, Sissel refused to help Missile save his mistresses, stating that he just wants to find his own lost memories.

It could easily seem at a glance like Sissel’s character development over the course of the game is that he started off selfish, only caring about his own mystery, and it’s only through getting attached to everyone throughout the night that he begins to care about others and the bigger picture. As such, his refusal to help Missile in the original timeline is easy to read as being born of that, since this was early on when Sissel still only cared about himself.

But… it’s not actually that simple, because Sissel isn’t as selfish in the beginning as one might think. Sure, he’ll say things like “I have to focus on my own mystery”, or “this is all for my own benefit”. But that doesn’t actually match up with his actions. His own mystery may be, in theory, his number one priority, but a remarkably close second priority for him is to save the lives of any dead person he happens to come across. Even very early on, before he’s grown to care about any of these people!

He doesn’t hesitate to save Missile, despite having zero reason to assume that this little doggie will be any help with his mystery. The second time he finds Lynne dead, when he’s getting to talk to her and learns that she doesn’t actually know much about him and probably won’t be able to help him because she’s got her own case to pursue tonight, he still reassures her that she doesn’t owe him and he’s going to save her life anyway.

And even right at Lynne’s very first death, in the game’s opening narration, Sissel makes a point that he doesn’t want to stand back and let her get shot, and that he feels bad for her, despite her being a complete stranger!

Evidently, even right at the beginning, Sissel isn’t selfish. He just thinks he is. Because cats can be tsundere like that.

Sissel:  “Why am I so determined to save this woman? After all, it’s not as if I know her. My reason is twofold. Number one, I’m not the type to leave women lying around, discarded like trash.”

(Here’s a bit from later in chapter 1 featuring Sissel being amusingly surprised by his own altruistic streak. He seems to expect to only care about himself – yet here he is, not wanting to leave a stranger lying dead if he can help it. Not so selfish after all, huh?)

So if that’s not the problem in the original timeline, then what is? Why does Sissel leave Missile to deal with saving his ladies alone when he’d have no reason not to try and help? – after all, he hasn’t been given a fake time limit in this timeline! He’s not even in a hurry with his own mystery! For that matter, Sissel was still there in the junkyard at the beginning – why didn’t he just save Lynne himself?

We can get a good indication of what the issue is from that very same opening narration I was just talking about.

Sissel:  “Now, I’m not the kind of guy who can just stand back and watch a poor woman get shot. But I have just one little problem… I’m already dead myself.”

Sissel:  “I feel bad for her, sure. But what can I do? I’m dead. But just as I was thinking that…”

The real problem is not that he doesn’t care about saving a stranger’s life. Rather, it’s that, because he’s dead, he doesn’t think he can. He’s not expecting to magically have ghost superpowers; why would he?

And it’s just as he was thinking that he can’t do anything (which, while part of his screen-filling monologue narration, was still his thoughts and therefore something any nearby ghost could hear)… that Ray speaks up to tell him that actually he can save her.

Sissel:  “Huh?” (Me? Save her? Uh, how?)

Immediately, Sissel questions the notion once again, not with a why but with a how. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; he simply doesn’t think it’s possible.

This general idea continues throughout the entire tutorial, which is absolutely packed with lines that show Sissel being deeply sceptical about the idea that he could possibly save someone’s life or alter someone’s fate.

Once Ray’s taught him about his basic ghost tricks and he’s managed to delay Lynne’s death by a few moments… she still ends up dead anyway. And Sissel thinks that’s it. Because of course he does. Even if he can stop time and manipulate objects, he has zero reason to believe that his powers can undo a death that’s already happened.

Sissel:  “In the end, it looks like her fate remains unchanged. So what good are these ‘ghost tricks’ of mine? But just as I was thinking this…”

Sissel:  “It looks like my ghost tricks didn’t do much good.” (She still ended up just as dead as before.)

He even ends up feeling like his new superpowers are barely worth anything, because he can play a few little tricks on someone, but that’s not enough to save someone’s life, is it?

Ray:  “Isn’t it a shame to see such a pretty young woman lying here discarded like a piece of trash?” Sissel:  “But what can I do? She’s already dead.”

Ray:  “And while she’s resting, you can save her life.” Sissel:  “Oh, sure. You make it sound so easy.”

And again, he’s very dismissive of Ray implying or telling him that he can do something about this. After all, how could that be possible any more?

In particular, there’s this vital little bit of trickery here…

Ray:  “Now what do you suppose will happen if you possess a corpse?” Sissel:  “Nothing, because I already tried that, remember? And nothing happened at all.”

…in which Sissel assumes his powers just don’t work on corpses, because he’s already tried and failed to do anything with “his” corpse. If he’d been alone, without Ray to guide him through things, he most likely wouldn’t have even tried to possess Lynne’s corpse in the first place, because he would have had no reason to believe it would achieve anything!

(Meanwhile, Missile in the original timeline also had zero reason to believe he could do anything for Kamila, but he was so anguished and desperate that of course he would have tried anyway. He’d try anything to save her, because he is good and loyal and Dog. So he was able to discover his time-rewinding powers where Sissel didn’t, and thus he passed that knowledge onto Sissel in the game’s timeline.)

And as Ray tells Sissel that he can in fact rewind time to redo the last moments of Lynne’s life, he’s completely dumbfounded and bewildered by the very idea of it.

Sissel:  “Are you serious?! Back through time?!”

Sissel:  “But this is crazy! None of it makes any sense!”

Ray:  “To the time four minutes before this woman was murdered!” Sissel:  “H-Hey, wait a second! I still don’t know what you’re talking about!”

What is this lamp even talking about?! Of course turning back time isn’t possible! He had no reason to believe it was possible, even as part of his new wacky ghost powers.

(Meanwhile, when Sissel is saving Missile in the game, we get a little exchange that shows Missile being completely unfazed by the idea that Sissel’s brought them back in time. It’s no weirder than humans walking around on two legs, right? One way or another, the cat can barely wrap his head around it, while the dog sees it as perfectly plausible.)

One thing Ray says more than once during the tutorial is, “The best thing to do is try it.” Because Sissel is being so stubbornly cynical that he will not take this desk lamp’s word about how useful his powers are and has to literally be pushed into trying it himself in order to believe it, every time.

Even after seeing for himself that he can go back in time and watch Lynne’s death again, Sissel still manages to be pessimistic about this.

Ray:  “And there you have it. The last four minutes of her life.” Sissel:  [strained] “No…!” Ray:  “It’s kind of ironic, when you think about it. A woman toyed with by fate, and a man toyed with by a ghost.” Sissel:  “But she still died.”

He went back in time, and she still died. There’s still apparently nothing he can do, right? No, Sissel, just have a bit of patience! This is just the mechanic that lets you understand what happens before you dive in and start changing things; you’ll get your chance soon!

And once he’s finally successfully saved Lynne…

Ray:  “You used your powers to avert that woman’s fate.” Sissel: “So I did that?”

Sissel still has a moment of being surprised at the notion that he was capable of something like this.

It’s really striking to me, watching over chapter 1 again with this thought about original-timeline Sissel in mind, just how many lines to this effect there are throughout the whole thing. The writers did not need to include this many moments of Sissel being sceptical, or even any of them at all, really, in order for the tutorial to do its job as a tutorial! But they’re here anyway, because it is in fact really important to the story that Sissel is somebody who would not have tried hard enough to figure out that his powers can undo deaths unless he had someone holding his hand through it the whole way.

The way old-Missile talks about it when he’s explaining himself at the end, it’s easy to get the takeaway that the most important thing he did as Ray was to take advantage of Sissel’s supposed self-interest: by not contradicting his misconception that he’s the man in red, by telling him Lynne is the key to his mystery (a half-truth at best), and by giving him a fake time limit. And it’s not that those things didn’t help, but they’re not really the most important thing at all.

The most important thing Ray did for Sissel, the thing that Missile absolutely most needed to spend those ten years waiting to do, was exactly what it appeared to be during chapter 1: to teach him how to use his powers to save lives. Because the number one thing the Sissel from the original timeline needed but didn’t get was, quite literally, a tutorial.

There’s a little bit more to it than this, though. So, okay, Sissel in the original timeline didn’t know he had the vital time-rewinding power. But then that begs the question: why didn’t Missile just tell him that while asking for his help?

For that matter, why did Sissel leave Missile shortly after being asked for help? It can’t just be because he urgently had to go and look elsewhere for answers to his own mystery, because he’s not pressed for time here. And he was apparently chilling at the junkyard just eavesdropping on the investigators’ conversations before Missile showed up. Why the sudden shift in locations now of all times, when there’s someone here who’s actually talking to him – the first person Sissel would have been able to talk to all night – and asking him for help?

The issue here, I believe, is that this isn’t just a matter of Sissel’s lack of understanding what his powers can do. It’s also a matter of emotional state – both Sissel’s, and Missile’s. Both of them would have been incredibly stressed out and upset, Sissel due to his loss of memory and seeing deaths in front of him that he doesn’t think he can do anything about, and Missile due to his mistresses’ deaths that he also can’t do anything about, even though he has a superpower that lets him try but it just isn’t quite enough.

How would Missile and Sissel’s interaction go when they’re both so upset like this? There’s actually a fun little bite-sized example of this in the actual canon timeline. During the last desperate struggle to escape the sinking submarine…

Missile:  “Sissel! Y-Y-Y… You’re not telling Miss Lynne to leave poor Miss Kamila behind, ARE YOU?!” Sissel:  *sigh* “Could you just be quiet for a minute, Missile?”

Missile and Sissel are bound to be both extremely anxious and stressed in this situation – trapped in the submarine, Lynne and Kamila in danger of drowning if they don’t do something. And in that state of mind, it seems that Missile is prone to eschewing logic to be even more loudly desperately protective of his mistresses… while Sissel especially does not enjoy Missile being Loudly Boisterously Dog in his ear when he’s stressed out. After all, cats and dogs have very opposite and very incompatible ways of dealing with stress!

So it follows that the conversation between Sissel and Missile in the original timeline would likely have been an incoherent emotional mess, in which neither of them properly communicated their side of things at all. Missile must have just never even thought to tell Sissel that he can rewind time and therefore saving his ladies is actually possible in theory, because that was already obvious to him! He wouldn’t be capable of understanding why Sissel would be so reluctant about this.

As for why Sissel wasn’t just reluctant to help but outright ran away and sealed the deal – I think, more than anything, it’s got to be down to the fact that he couldn’t stand having Missile being so loud and energetic at him when he was this upset. Especially not while repeatedly saying that he can save them, which would be the exact thing Sissel has been miserably convinced that he just can’t. It follows that he’d just have wanted to run and hide somewhere Missile isn’t, where he can have some peace and quiet. Cats who are upset often like to hide and isolate themselves to feel safer.

There’s one other part in the game’s tutorial that suggests the problem originally might have been partly a matter of Sissel’s emotions:

Ray:  “Hello there. How are you feeling? Not very well, I imagine. A terrible tragedy, what happened tonight.” Sissel:  “………” [neutral face] Ray:  “Ah, ignoring me, are you? It’s a little too early for you to be so stiff and cold, I’d say.” Sissel:  [smiling] “Ah, so it was you. You were that voice in my head, right?”

This is very noteworthy, because Ray is the only person in the entire game who ever takes the time to ask Sissel how he’s feeling. He wouldn’t be feeling great after waking up dead, watching a woman die in front of him and failing to save her, would he?

It seems like old-Missile, with his years of wisdom and time to reflect on everything, realised that his approach to getting Sissel’s help last time really was way too focused on his own problems, and he never even stopped to think about how Sissel must have been feeling. So here, he presents himself as a friend, someone who cares about Sissel and his journey, because that’s exactly what Sissel needs! This poor kitty must have felt so lonely and sad and helpless in the original timeline. But hearing Ray’s words, and realising that this desk lamp is someone semi-familiar, does seem to cheer him up at least a little bit here! Sissel really is a character whose core desperate need is to just not be alone, even if you’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit that at the beginning.

Interestingly, way back when I first played Ghost Trick, on the DS soon after it came out, I found myself intrigued by Sissel in the original timeline. I vaguely toyed with the idea of writing a fic exploring how he was feeling and why he refused, though I never got around to actually doing so. Then recently, the game coming out in HD rekindled my hyperfixation and made me think about it some more and actually end up writing that fic after all. And the thing is, back then, I didn’t remotely consciously understand any of this stuff I’ve just explained here. But even so, I find it neat how I still had this wordless sense that what was going on with Sissel must have been so much more than just selfishness – that he must have been so sad in that timeline and that had to be the real basis of why he didn’t help.

[theonevoice]

Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee

My friends, it feels obvious now, but I finally managed to put my fingers on what was bothering me about this specific exchange of lines:

If you think about it, this exchange doesn't make sense. Aziraphale says:

"But I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?"

and the Metatron answers:

"You know, as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with."

What does being able to decide who to work with have anything to do with coffee?

At first, like many of us, I had interpreted the scene as Aziraphale using the coffee as a metaphor for expressing his love for Earth and earthly pleasures, and the Metatron slyly throwing the Crowley's restored angelic status card on the table to force him to change his mind, as if Crowley was the one important thing that could make Aziraphale forget all other things on Earth.

But here's the thing - and I don't know why I never noticed it before: as far as we know, Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee.

If I am not mistaken, there are only three explicit coffee references in the two seasons: the "six shots of espresso," the espresso cup that sits in front of Crowley on the table at the Ritz in s1ep1, and the two mugs in s1ep2 when Aziraphale and Crowley stops at a sort of dining place to discuss how to find the lost Antichrist. Now, unlike with the expresso cup at the Ritz, where we have an above shot that clearly shows traces of coffee, we don't see what's inside the two mugs here. But I don't think Aziraphale's one contains coffe: he's not even aware that caffeine is definitely does not "calm people down," it's very clearly not his thing.

Furthermore, we do know what his things are: little restaurants, sushi, classical music, old bookshops, tea, crepes, French wine… not coffee.

When the Metatron asks him to become Supreme Archangel, he could say "where would I get my sushi?" or "where would I get my books" or "where would I get my records" which is an actual line that he pronounced earlier while talking to Maggie.

Instead he says "coffee."

And then it struck me: Aziraphale is never associated with coffee. But Crowley is.

That's what he's saying, probably unconsciously: when he says "where would I get my coffee?" he's not expressing his love for Earth, he's expressing his love for Crowley.

He could even be doing this without realizing it, as a form of involuntary codification (codification like in Freud's or Matte Blanco's theories of unconscious mind: where something seated deep inside you hooks onto some minor detail outside and starts speaking through your words as if on its own accord). After all, this particular morning, after the emotional strain of the ball, the demonic attack during the night, and the unexpected revelation of Gabriel and Beelzebub relationship, seems to me like the sort of moment in which some amount of brain fog is to be expected, even for an angel.

But the Metatron sees straight through him, possibly even more clearly than he sees through himself, and gives an answer that ignores the superficial codification and address directly the deep meaning. He doesn't say: "as Supreme Archangel you would be able to pop down here whenever you want and have as much coffee as you like." He immediately sees that "where would I get my coffee?" means "how could I be together with Crowley?" and makes his dirty move of dangling the idea of restoring Crowley to his former angelic status in front of Aziraphale's face because he knows that this is the one and only point.

And now I really, really, really hope that in s3 we will see Supreme Archangel Aziraphale sending someone on Earth to get him some coffee - maybe a big cup with six shots of espresso in it and nothing else - and then grabbing the paper cup with a pain, strenght, and desperation that nobody else would understand.

[writin-with-the-blues]

can you please write more of the blu medic x red mercs but the rest of red team finds out?? Like the red merc walks into base and the rest of the team is like "um hey what the HELL you have a crush on a BLU!?!?!?" (If you can't do this scenario for all the mercs can you do it for pyro, engineer, and scout please) thank you!!! Sorry If this request is alot.

Oh absolutely I can do this! Sorry if updates have been slow, finals has been killing me and this seemed the easiest to post. (I feel like I am always writing Pyro wrong LMAO).

OG Post Here

Right person, Wrong side

Pyro, Engineer, and Scout x Male!Blue Medic! Reader (Romantic)

Pyro:

They are probably the most interesting when it comes to you.

They tried to talk about you to the rest of the Mercenaries actually. However, since most of them can’t here them, they brush it off as utter nonsense. Except for one particular person.

Miss Pauling.

It was over a phone call, since pyro was in their room, they didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. It had to do with a contract killing you in particular and they rejected it. Miss Pauling inquired further about it, she was simply told, “Oh they didn’t tell you? I love him.”

“You can fall in love?”

Okay, ow, that hurt. But that one conversation with Miss Pauling somehow got spread around the entirety of Red Team. Though, it isn’t really a case of, ‘They are in love with blue team’ but a case of, ‘They can love?!’

Overall, it went alright. Though it did show how people felt about their cognitive abilities.

Engineer:

Ah yes, Dell, the man with more PHD’s than fingers of the Mercs have after a fight. He got caught because of an invention.

I am a firm believer that Dell’s love languages are Gift Giving and Acts of Service. He adores the moments when you just look so happy and excited, so keeping the stressful moments to a minimum with his inventions or hell just giving you a cup of coffee is something he thinks about a little too much.

So when he finds out that your medigun isn’t working as well as it should be, he immediately gets to solutions for you. It wasn’t like you asked though, since you didn’t even know something was wrong with your medigun in the first place but the nozzle doesn’t have the same range as it used to.

Though, his teams medic assumed it was for him until the very quick realization that it did absolutely nothing for his medigun. Which immediately was brought with accusations of being a spy and betraying the team.

To tell you it was ugly would be an understatement. To the point where his only defense is that he loved you. So he just simply said that. Did it resolve his issues with spy accusations? Yes. But it created a whole new problem.

Now there’s a bit of pressure from the rest of the team to just, ‘Snap out of it’ but he doesn’t. As much as he lies through his teeth, and as much as he tries to ignore it, he can’t. I mean, he’s a full grown man dammit, who cares?

Scout:

If you were to ask me how he even gotten himself in this situation, I’d say the many doodles he has of you.

He has a somewhat (very) crass way of expressing his feelings when using his sketchbook. Everything he feels about you just drawn out, kissing, hugging, other things a 20 year old with art abilities draws.

The first person to find these sketches of you is Spy. His first thoughts follow the beat of, ‘This is really good anatomy.’ To ‘Is that the enemy medic?’

Spy tried to use it as leverage against Scout. Once Scout realized what had happened, he almost immediately decided to tell every red merc on his own terms.

It’s the most Jeremy thing he could do, but I genuinely believe he’d do it. Though it goes as well as you expect it to. Which is not great.

To sum it up, there were so many argument over it. Whether it is justified or not, but most were in agreement that they knew they can’t change his feelings about you.

Masterlist

[christinaroseandrews]

A lot of people are talking about how Disney didn't get nominated for their flagship 100th animated feature, Wish. Which is a big deal, I am not disputing that. This was a stellar year for animation and the academy had a glut of good options that did not include Wish. (I would have liked makoto shinkai's Suzume to be nominated but...)

But I want to talk about something else that is probably sticking in Disney's craw.

None of their Animated movies, in particular Wish, were nominated for "best original song."

Starting in 1940 with "when you Wish upon a Star", Disney's animated features could be counted upon to receive a nomination for best original song often winning the Honor. This includes movies such as Bambi; Saludos Amigos; Cinderella, and that racist mess that Disney would like you to forget, Song of the South. Even during the years after Walt's death a bunch of songs were nominated from things like Pete's Dragon and The Rescuers. But it wasn't until The Little Mermaid and the animation Renaissance that Disney's almost stranglehold and expectation that they're animated films would get nominated for an Oscar for best song really came into the forefront.

Take a walk through the best song nominations from 1989 to now and pretty much the majority of Disney and/or Pixar movies put out in those years has a best song nomination. There are a few exceptions, there always are, but generally when Disney includes original songs in its Animated properties it gets nominated.

That makes this year so odd. Disney technically has a nomination with Diane Warren's song for Flamin' Hot, which I suspect has more to do with the fact that the academy loves to nominate Diane Warren and then never give her the Oscar. ~_^ The big thing I noticed was that there were no nominations for Wish or even Elemental. And even more crucially, there was no one setting up a hue or cry that these movies (particularly Wish) didn't get nominated for best song.

Wish had all of the ingredients to be both an Oscar Bait for best animated feature and best original song. And the academy ignored it.

And frankly, I think this is 100% deserved. Wish was an okay movie. It wasn't good it wasn't bad it was just okay. And it's songs were forgettable.

Worse than that, in my opinion, they were unsingable. And what I mean by that is the songs were so complex so lyrically and musically difficult that a four-year-old in a princess dress would struggle to sing them. There were too many jumps and the lyrics were incredibly tongue twisty and they even sounded difficult for an accomplished singer like Ariana DeBose to sing. Seriously, the chorus of This Wish has so many jumps and drops that it is almost impossible to stay on key and also follow the melody. The music is just there.

When I walked out of the theater, I couldn't remember any of the songs. I still can't. And as most of my friends can tell you I have a bloody musical memory. I remember songs.

The first time I saw Barbie, I had three of the songs (What was I made for, I'm just Ken, and Pink) wrestling for dominance over who was going to be my earworm for the day. The same thing was true with Frozen, Moana, Encanto, beauty and the Beast, and even Tarzan. I still can't remember the music from Wish at all. To even write this, I had to go on YouTube and listen to the songs. And after listening to them, I still can't sing them. But just typing "I'm just Ken" has put that song in my head.

So rather than just celebrating Wish being excluded in a very good year for animation (it was so good, y'all) we should also be laughing and pointing that the Disney's attempts at getting a best song nomination for that movie also went unheeded.

Because I sure am.

[max1461]

I'm terminally humanities brained, but I am kind of interested in pure mathematics and POM and generally just more mathematics oriented philosophy stuff/mathematics in general, I haven't studied any kind of maths since Highschool, how should I get into it? Should I read Quine?

Oh, this is a great question and I am very happy you have decided to send it to me! My answer reflects my particular views on mathematics and what it is all about, of course, so keep that in mind.

The number one thing I would like to convey about mathematics to someone coming from the humanities is that mathematics, far more than most fields, is something you do in addition to something you learn. Mathematical thinking has to be practiced, it is a skill that you train. If your primary interest is in philosophy of math, I'm afraid I haven't read very deeply on the subject and probably can't recommend a good starting place. Maybe... Russell? Look into Hilbert's program, and why it failed? But if you want to understand math "from the inside" instead of "from the outside", then you have to do math, and to that end I think "who to read" is the wrong question.

This might sound a bit scary, but I don't think it needs to be. Math is not so hard to do, although it is a very foreign type of thinking to those who are not practiced at it. In fact, this is why I think doing math is important even if your interests are primarily in POM; math is ultimately a human activity, regardless of e.g. what you believe about the ontology of mathematical abstractions, and I believe that in order to understand it fully (to have a picture of it beyond just its ontology) it must be understood as a human activity. Thus, one must do it, at least a little bit. It is, if nothing else, a whole realm of human experience all its own, and I think just about anyone would profit intellectually from spinning their mental gears in a mathematical way here and there.

Thankfully, there are many great places to start if this is your aim. I assume that what we're talking about here is "proof based" math rather than just calculation. To that end, a great introductory book is Velleman's How to Prove It, which will give you some guiding principles and many examples of how to approach a mathematical proof. Beyond that, I think you'll want to pick up an "entry level" introductory text (that is, an introductory text aimed at undergrads, etc.) on any math topic that strikes your fancy, and work through it—making sure that you understand the structure of the arguments (proofs), and attempting as many of the exercises as you can. The exercises are really the most important part. You cannot learn math without the exercises. You cannot learn math by reading it. The only way to learn is to try your hand at it yourself.

Expect your reading speed to be slow, and new concepts to be confusing. Expect to read things over and over, and fiddle with them in your head, before they make sense. Well, I mean, if you're anything like me or like most people. I think one of the biggest reasons people get turned off to math is that most of it just doesn't make any sense the first time you encounter it; it won't make sense until you've thought about it a lot.

One way or another, if you have a background in philosophy and are used to parsing and evaluating careful arguments, you will have a leg up on many people getting their introduction to proofs.

As for what topic to start with... you could always start with Euclid's elements, which is still a perfectly solid introduction to Euclidean geometry even after 2500 years. It does not quite meet modern standards of mathematical rigor (in other words, its proofs have gaps by modern standards), but realistically this is not a big deal: the basic thinking style is the same, and the gaps are somewhat subtle and technical IIRC, so I don't think it will really affect the beginner experience. On the other hand I believe at least a couple of Euclid's proofs are genuinely flawed (that is to say, they aren't just uncareful in their presentation, but are actually invalid in their structure), so maybe it's better to start with a modern work first.

Some books that I think are good for a beginner:

Graham, Knuth, & Patashnik, Concrete Mathematics — The focus of this book is on mathematical tools for computer science, but even if that is not your interest it's still a great book. It deals mostly with familiar concepts such as whole numbers and sequences (you might have encountered, e.g., the Fibonacci sequence), but is great for learning to problem solve and think mathematically.

Rudin, Principals of Mathematical Analysis, ("Baby Rudin") — If you want trial-by-fire. A lot of math undergrads have this as the textbook for their first proof-based math class, and it's notoriously challenging. Its topic is the field of real analysis, the rigorous foundations of calculus. I... wouldn't start here if I were you, honestly, but it's definitely a classic.

Some graph theory text. Some people seem to be recommending Wilson's, which has the convenient feature of being available online here. I haven't read it, but looking over it, it seems fairly gentle. There are a lot of pictures, and proofs don't enter the picture until a couple of sections in. Graph theory has the advantage of being very visual and having basically no prerequisites, so this might be a nice place to start.

Some abstract algebra book. If you're looking for a really clear presentation of the way mathematics is done today, starting with axioms and proving theorems deductively from them, etc., there is probably no place where it is more straightforwardly visible than in abstract algebra. The first math book I ever attempted was Herstein's Topics in Algebra; not the most beginner oriented, but certainly not inaccessible, and hey, it worked out for me! If this one is not to your liking there are a million books on e.g. introductory group theory you could look into, or the very canonical Dummit & Foote, or so on.

Uh yeah I think that's all I got. Anyone else feel free to put any more thoughts or recommendations in the reblogs!

[veliseraptor]

August Reading Recap

Godkiller and Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner. I enjoyed these both (I mean, clearly, I read the sequel), though the first probably more than the second. The author is doing some interesting things with her world-building, though I have a little bit of a time figuring out what's going on with her naming conventions (which isn't that important, except in the ways it is). I'm definitely curious to see where it goes and will be reading the third one, but ultimately my verdict on this series is more "solid" than "good." Positive! But not, like, enthusiastically recommending to all and sundry.

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. This book had the seeds of a good book in it, and it almost lived up to that when it wasn't being unbearably didactic in the most heavy-handed way possible, footnotes and all. When the author focused on the characters and the dynamics between them, I could see a good story there, but it kept getting spoiled for me by being hit over the head with a message that I (admittedly) already agree with. I liked the collection of short stories by the same author much better.

Messalina: Empress, Adulteress, Libertine: The Story of the Most Notorious Woman of the Roman World by Honor Cargill-Martin. This was a solid book but felt like it could've been an article rather than a full-length book. It was a little stretched for what it was, though I appreciated the way the author analyzed primary sources. As always, I am here for an author who recognizes the specific angles of unreliability of Roman histories and works with that to inform their analysis (not just throwing their hands up in defeat but also not taking things at face value). But yeah. Would've been, in my opinion, a better article than a book.

Remnants of Filth vol. 4 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. This book just keeps getting better in a lot of ways. The revelation about Gu Mang's betrayal was a little bit disappointing in some ways but also fun and crunchy in others, and the general storyline is still compelling me. I think I like Meatbun's writing and narrative interests. I have come to this conclusion based on 1.5 novels, though, which is a relatively small sample size. I continue to feel like this is one worth recommending.

The Children of Red Peak by Craig DiLouie. I feel like Craig DiLouie wants his books to be complex and deep horror and falls short of the "complex" part in particular. The funniest part of this book was the part where the sound of a shofar was the ~scary, foreign, sound of unimaginable power~ when I was like. I hear this every year. A guy named Marty blows one.

As you might be able to tell, I was unimpressed.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun vol. 6 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. One thing I can definitively say for 2ha is that it has the hottest sex of any danmei I've read so far, and this volume definitely delivered on that. We're also moving into the arc that really gets me going so I'm very excited for the next volume and its Revelations; Mo Ran's increasing anxiety is very good for me, even above and beyond the sex.

The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity by David Graeber and David Wengrow. I was so ready to be annoyed by this book, and I was still annoyed by this book in places, but overall I ended up appreciating it far more than I expected to. The counter-narrative it provides feels grounded in evidence and certainly is refreshing in its emphasis on a non-teleological look at history; I think they still fell a little bit into the trap of a glorious past and a fall that they're critiquing but certainly less so than the prevailing story. I want more people I know to read it so I can talk about it, which is also a (generally) positive thing for me to feel about a book; it may not mean I liked it but it does mean it provoked thought.

In the Shadow of the Gods: The Emperor in World History by Dominic Lieven. It's actually been a while since I DNFed a book, but I didn't finish this one. The sentence structure was already bothering me and then there were a couple (relatively) insignificant errors that pushed me the rest of the way over the edge. It seemed like it was going to end up being a relatively basic chronological overview of a number of emperors, however, rather than being more about the emperor as concept or idea, which I would've been more interested in. The fact that he kept comparing emperors to modern CEOs didn't exactly endear me to the book, either.

I'm currently reading To Shape a Dragon's Breath, with The Ratline and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (I promise, @ameliarating!) on the docket next. I wanted to reread The Last Unicorn but then I discovered that my copy has a big ol' chunk taken out of one of the pages, so that was a bummer.

We'll see what else turns up - I have The Spear Cuts Through Water and Dreadful out from the library, so those will probably be proximate reads as well.

[masezace]

little off topic for my blog, but i started watching a new show since a friend mentioned it was good and i'd heard positive things about it, so i just wanted to talk about it a little bit (probably never again after this since this isn't a fandom blog, but it's the only one i have rn so idc it's going here)

the show is Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous, and just going on looks alone, despite my love for dinosaurs and the Jurassic Park franchise i never would have considered it. it appears to be very much for kids, and as i'm in my late twenties now i'm not particularly interested in especially kiddy media. however a friend my age enjoyed it and mentioned it has a canon lgbtq+ couple in it among the main characters, so of course i just had to watch it. i had already been hearing that despite its initial appearance and premise, it was surprisingly good for a kids' show, so i had already been curious, but i was even more keen after knowing there were queer characters, and not even the adults, the kids themselves (in a kid's show?!! what a time to be alive), so i finally sat down and watched it.

[spoiler warning, both minor and major, for the rest of this post btw, so continue reading at your own risk if you haven't seen it yet/are still watching]

the show overall

okay so firstly, i am coming at all of this from the perspective of a writer, so my observations are from a technical standpoint more so than just as a fan of the show. and honestly, it really is a well-written show as a whole. is it geared towards kids? definitely. there are plenty of jokes/gags in it that just don't appeal to me as an adult, but beyond that, there was plenty to appreciate as an adult.

the writing is actually phenomenal? there were several points in the series where i just sat back and mulled over the way a scene went, what the thought process behind writing it was like, how well it was executed, and how important it was to the characters and overall plot.

the suspense is spot on, nothing gets dragged out too long, and i will admit there have been a few scenes throughout that actually got me; i jumped! it's actually scarier than i expected a kid show to be, but i'm so glad they went where they did because it really elevated the experience.

the pacing overall is very good, adequately engaging for kids' short attention spans (and us adhd adults 🥲) but not too short either to a point where things felt abrupt or unfinished. plot arcs are well developed and tied up nicely. also, as a bit of a dinosaur nerd, the array of dinosaurs in the show is super broad and satisfying! very fun stuff.

character element

imo the real gem of this show is the character development. honestly it's just *chefs kiss*

the characters grow and change so much and so realistically over the course of the show, it's honestly so much better and more satisfying than the character growth in most adult fiction/media recently.

the growth in ben (who btw was def my favorite character by the end of s1) and kenji in particular were my favorites and, in my personal opinion, the most interesting. the way ben started out anxious, cowardly, and rule abiding to a fault, then grew into a brave, confident, adventurous little pyromaniac gremlin, then had that stint later in the series where he regressed a bit-questioning himself-until eventually ultimately striking a great balance and really coming into himself was just... peak character writing.

kenji started out overconfident, lazy, and overly concerned with money/status. but that arrogant overconfidence and laziness slowly turned into responsibility, and a desire to protect his found family, and the realization that it's the people in your life that really matter most.

honestly what i mentioned only scratches the surface in terms of those two characters, there's certainly more that can be said about them (as well as all the others) but i'm not really in the mood for a deep dive character analysis atm. just trust me tho when i say these characters are so well done and each one of them have arcs that are super satisfying to watch play out.

queer representation

and as for the queer couple? yasmina and sammy are PERFECT. it was so beautiful watching their relationship grow from one-sided to mutual friendship, to loyal devotion, then to love. they were set up incredibly well and incredibly naturally. i have like, no complaints when it comes to them. i don't even know if there's anything i can say that would add to things, they were just a really awesome couple to watch become canon, they're the beautiful and painfully needed representation we all beg for in tv and movies.

shipping, chemistry, and intent

but oh goodness... probably my only real complaint about the entire show would be how benji (ben x kenji) and kenji x brooklyn (kenlyn? brookji? idk and idrc) were handled. because for all that this show did SO much beautifully right, they really screwed the pooch here, sadly.

i'm gonna start by saying that the writing in this show, as with most, is deliberate. what i mean by this is that despite having no clue who it would be because my friend thankfully did not even spoil me as far as the genders of the queer couple, i clocked yas and sammy as the would-be queer couple as early as season one (actually it was between them and benji, but more on that later). i could already see the chemistry, because it was deliberately written in.

shipping is subjective. anyone can ship any character, and in most cases it's pretty easy to see how there could be (romantic) chemistry between fan pairings based on their personalities, their arcs, etc. and that's okay! ships don't even have to have any canon support to be valid, because shipping is for the fandom, and it's for fun (i have a few rarepairs and crack ships across different media that i just love).

but onscreen/written romantic chemistry is a lot less subjective (to clarify, it is subjective whether or not the chemistry is good, but it's not subjective about whether or not it exists). there are literally scenes written with the sole purpose of building the romantic tension and/or chemistry between planned couples (some of which even have absolutely zero plot relevance, which usually is not advised tbh, and most of which are the cliches/tropes you see in literally any romance ever written, some are just disguised a little better than others. but make no mistake, it's all the same set of cliches. there is nothing new under the sun), as well as intentional, key moments within scenes that have other purposes. they are essential to establish romantic pairings.

and typically, the foundations for these couples are laid VERY early on. always within the first or second season (well, at least they are when the writer actually knows what they're doing and has at least a rough plan/outline for the entire series & characters. this is usually a large part of what separates the good chemistry from the poor chemistry. an author who knows who the couples are going to be and has a plan from the beginning to build them up is going to be more successful in creating a believable relationship with good chemistry. one who does not plan, or makes last minute plans will almost certainly fail, and the couple is just going to suck). when the set of characters you're working with are going to stay the same for most or all of the story, you start immediately.

i don't mean to toot my own horn, because i think it's because i'm a writer so i just pick up on narrative patterns very easily, and pretty much always clock the planned couples within the first few episodes of any series, and by the end i am right like 9 times out of 10.

that being said, do you know whose deliberately written chemistry i also clocked in jwcc? ben and kenji's.

kenji and... brooklyn?

no offense to people who like/enjoy kenji and brooklyn, you are free to love them, but the way their romance was written is... quite possibly the weakest point of the show. it felt like they were just trying to appease the upsetto heteros in charge, because there was definitely another het pairing that had a lot more potential than kenji and brooklyn (hello darius x brooklyn aka darilyn, you would have actually made sense because your relationship had amazing buildup and multiple standout scenes from s1 on. dgmw, i love that we got a m/f strong, supportive, purely platonic friendship out of them, i live for those and we really need more of them. but we could have had that with kenji and brooklyn, or darius and sammy, or ben and yas, literally any other pair instead).

kenji and brooklyn as a couple came out of absolutely nowhere. i honestly think they decided to shove them together last minute, and had no actual plan for them until they were working on s4. because their development barely started at the VERY end of s3 (the abruptness of him caring about her being held hostage so much more than literally anyone else in their group despite them having like zero buildup to that point gave me whiplash), but honestly didn't really even become "meaningful" development until s4, over halfway through the series. the two spend the first 3 seasons basically not particularly gaf about each other individually, only as part of the whole group and on an equal level with everyone else. they otherwise have no deliberate narrative foundation. it just starts in s4 with no prior hinting. which makes their development rocky and difficult to believe. the funny thing is their characters literally have dialogue (in s4) trying to draw comparisons/parallels between them to say that they especially have a lot in common and like??? no? they really don't? not any more so than any other two kids in the group. their relationship just, really falls flat.

it was disappointing to see it take such a massive spotlight in the series for almost all of seasons 4 and 5, overshadowing the friendships that have been the focus of the show and should have remained so, to the point where at times it just felt like i was watching some stereotypical het highschool romance. genuinely, it made s4 & 5 more of a drag to get through. yasammy and ben and yas' growing bond (which by the way was so sweet, it had the strongest queer solidarity vibes good lord, i sure wonder why yas chose ben out of everyone to come out to first, hmmm) were some of the few things that kept me invested, otherwise i would have dropped it if it had leaned much farther into becoming the kenlyn show than it already was. especially when it was that pair so much of the focus was given to, even though we had so readily and perfectly available, the pair that could have, should have been: benji. which finally brings me to:

ben and kenji

benji's foundation was laid in s1. their interactions, the situations they found themselves in, were deliberate (on the writers' part). i'm even gonna go out on a limb here and say the pairings were fully established in s1e3, even with parallels between yasammy and benji (sammy clinging to yas and ben clinging to kenji throughout the episode), and darilyn gets the beginning of their development too.

even though they bicker a lot in the beginning, they clearly care about each other? kenji protects/helps ben multiple times, and there are definitely some looks ben gives kenji at times. at the end of s1, the one who seems the most deeply effected over ben's "death," other than darius (understandably since he's the one who failed to save him), was kenji! immediately after it happens, we get two close up shots, darius and brooklyn then yasmina and sammy. after which, we go back to the whole group with kenji in center frame, the focus is intentionally on him. it is only kenji who drops to his knees at the loss, and then we get a close up of just kenji. he was saved for last, and he was alone in frame (tbf bumpy was in frame too, but i'm talking humans here), which implies his feelings are especially important in this moment. that is the reason for solo close ups.

after ben's "death," kenji takes to always wearing ben's fanny pack, and up until bumpy--who ben cares VERY much about--got separated from them, kenji was the one who (however briefly) took over her care, ensuring she got off the monorail with them, and he's extremely distraught, more than pretty much all of them, when they can't find her, and he's last to leave when they decide to accept that ben's gone. even when they do leave, he's distant and distracted and his mind is clearly still on ben.

other than darius, kenji is the only one (if i'm remembering correctly) to mention ben/say his name after they lost him, upset because he was actually trying not to think about him. he has clearly thought about ben, probably a lot, because it's hard not to be reminded constantly when you wear something that belonged to a deceased loved one. and frankly, he appears to be the only one who dwells on him that much.

when ben reappears alive (which btw he found the group again because of kenji's butter knife, hello), the frames literally purposely focus on kenji's reaction. he's the one in the foreground every time they show him and brooklyn in that scene. he is the first one to say ben's name, the first one to go to him and hug him, and the scene takes special care to highlight kenji's strong emotions at ben's reappearance, lingering on his teary face as the focus for a bit even after brooklyn enters the frame to hug ben (because she is not at all an important element in the scene at that moment). just like when ben "died," the way this scene is written and shot HEAVILY suggests that ben holds significant importance to kenji, specifically. because again, the focus here is on kenji and ben almost exclusively, with brooklyn as only an afterthought lol. and quite frankly literally everyone else's reaction to him being alive was pretty lackluster compared to the special attention they gave to kenji on this.

and then in s3 we have the infamous hat scene, where darius and ben are in the limo and ben sees and mentions kenji's sailor hat, looking sad and sounding like... longing?? then directly after we switch to kenji realizing he forgot his hat?? the scene has no real significance tbh other than to draw a connection between ben and kenji. like, it acts as a transition to switch to the pov of the group on the boat, but it was entirely unnecessary? why not just have darius say something about the others and then show them on the boat? if there were no special relationship between ben and kenji, it would have made far more sense if they really wanted it to be ben to say something, that he sees the hat, and sadly says something along the lines of "i hope the others are okay/doing better than we are right now/etc" which implies that the hat made him think of everyone, their whole group. rather than what we got... which very much implies that he was mostly just thinking about kenji 💀 and then kenji thinking about the hat at the same time ben's looking at it and thinking of kenji. like, this is.... a very blatant connection being made by the writing/directing here.

all of that. so many deliberate connections made between ben and kenji, they had a very solid foundation laid for a romance to develop, and by all intents and purposes one already WAS developing according to the show's own subtext. which was why up until s4 obliterated the idea, i was positive the queer couple in the show was either going to be yasammy or benji. it was extremely obvious imo. but as soon we started getting the typical, loud, cliche "we are going to pair off these characters" scenes for kenji and brooklyn, i knew we were getting yasammy and not benji (to be clear, i'm not at all upset about yasammy, they're beautiful and i love how their relationship was done, i wouldn't have had it end any other way for them. but i do personally prefer benji, i just like their personalities and dynamic more. and i feel they had so much potential that got wasted to make way for a far less interesting pairing between kenji and brooklyn. why can't we have 2 queer couples, huh? and if we really needed a minimum of one hetero pairing to appease whoever needed appeasing, darilyn was right there).

but then??? their like entire bond just gets dropped (honestly ben himself gets pretty heavily sidelined for almost all of the last two seasons, which is criminal imo). mostly so that a rushed kenji x brooklyn can be established. like there are still a few small moments here and there in early s4, and one episode in s5 (ep 10), but from early s4 till pretty much the end of the series we hardly see them have any meaningful conversations or interactions, meanwhile literally every other combo in the group does.

it's so weird? why build up benji so deliberately over the course of multiple seasons just to like, fully discard it for a pairing with far less chemistry, even after the chemistry-building scenes they shared, some of which literally had no other purpose than to affirm their connection? even though they were very sparse, the moments benji had were just so blatant (kenji leaps into the rock crevice right onto the back of a saber tooth to save ben?!!?? like he literally was just willing to exchange his life for him like that?? he basically says that he wasn't really thinking, he just did it. so he moved out of what, emotional instinct, that's what we're meant to intuit from that series of events? implying that he specifically has strong emotion and doesn't think things through when it comes to ben? because he doesn't do that kinda stuff for any of the others in the group! even better, this parallels when sammy jumped on the nothosaurus to save yasmina. and then the way benji look at each other after it's over??? hello??? and then how kenji pulls both brooklyn and ben in for that hug a couple minutes later... side eyeing the writers for that choice. they knew what they were doing there and they were evil for it). i just can't see any reason to have dropped them like they were, after all the development they shared for 3 seasons. confounding. biggest disappointment of the series.

i know this probably reads to some as just "wahh, my ship didn't become canon" nonsense. but that's not why i'm bugged. this wasn't just a ship i liked and wanted canon despite no actual narrative support, as most ships tend to be. this ship did have narrative support. there was intent behind many of their scenes together, lingering looks and little things that matter narratively and are always used to signify a stronger/special connection. and it led nowhere, for no good reason. that bothers me. writing that implies and promises something, but never delivers on it. like a person who never finishes their sentences (think Dr McPhee from Night at the Museum). ultimately it's not a HUGE deal or anything, at the end of the day it's just a ship and just a kids' show. but as a writer, it's just irritating to see something like that be done. what can i say 🤷

conclusion

even despite the wasted potential between certain pairings, and even though i do think the first three seasons were superior to the last two, overall i really enjoyed the show, and for what it was, it was really well-made. the overarching focus was of course on found family and friendship before anything else, which i absolutely love, and it was masterfully done. out of 6 kids, all of them had at least one or two meaningful bonding moments one-on-one with another in the group, so every possible combination had their moment to build strong, believable friendships with each other. i'm just so surprised by how good it was as a whole honestly, good enough to binge over the course of a week. i will happily recommend jwcc to anyone willing to give it a watch regardless of age, because i definitely think there's no age limit for a good story, no matter the medium it's told in. :)

[nkjemisin]

Things in my ask box

Hi folks. Every so often I get questions from folks that are good, but which I worry might catch them some flak from my other readers or whoever. Sometimes I answer those people privately, but in general I prefer not to do private replies to asks; for one thing, other people might want to know the answer, and for another, I've had a few awkward situations result from doing so (basically just people going parasocial on me), and I think that sort of thing is less likely when it's clear I'm talking to everyone. So, I'm going to handle these awkward asks by just treating them as Q&A questions -- without showing that person's username and where necessary, altering the question in order to protect their identity. I've got a few of these stored up, but just gonna do two this time for length and time reasons. I'll get to the rest later.

Are you a proshipper?

Yep. Feel free to alter your decision re following me on social media now that you've read that answer. But I believe in "don't like, don't read," and that fiction doesn't indicate what an author really believes (because it's fiction), and that there's no subject matter too immoral to explore on its face (everything depends on the execution), so... yep.

2. I love the Broken Earth trilogy, but I have to say, the middle book really didn't go anywhere, literally. Essun stayed in Castrima and Nassun moved around a little more but mostly stayed in the same place too. It killed a lot of the story momentum for me. Why did you decide to do this?

[spoilers for Broken Earth books, though I'll try to minimize them and will put a "read more" before I get there]

Because I felt like it. I'm not saying that defensively, I'm just noting that the answer to pretty much any question you might ask a writer about why they do a particular thing is... because they felt like it. Period full stop. Sorry that wasn't what you wanted to read! It was, however, the story I wanted to tell.

To elaborate... different people have different expectations of trilogies. That's because there are a lot of different ways to handle them, narratively speaking. Sometimes a trilogy is really a group of shared-universe stories taking place in the same world but not necessarily featuring the same characters, and with unrelated plots. Some are telling a single story, but through different POVs and smaller plot arcs that each have their own terminuses; that's what I did with the Inheritance Trilogy, for example. And sometimes, as I did with the Broken Earth books, the author is just telling one big story broken up into three parts. (There are more ways to do a trilogy than this, but let's keep this brief, lol.)

Now, there are a lot of ways to handle this kind of story, but a pattern that most of us are used to is:

Book One: Introduction to the world and important characters and the apparent stakes;

Book Two: Deep dive into the important characters and world, thus giving the audience a reason to care more; and

Book Three: Now we really know the stakes and shit just got real! Now we care what happens to the characters when EVERYTHING! BLOWS!! UP!!!

(I am feeling very silly today, sorry.)

We're familiar with this pattern because we see it all the time, especially in American media. It's a variation on the three-act structure seen in plays and other narratives. It's the basis of our most popular longform stories! The original Star Wars trilogy did it. The Mass Effect trilogy did it. (Andromeda was a separate story, probably meant to be the start of a new trilogy.) The Lord of the Rings did it, prequeled by the Hobbit and mirrored by the Silmarillion. I mentioned those examples because the middle stories of each all exhibit the same traits: a drastic change of pace or location for the protagonists, putting the protagonists through personal character growth arcs, and poking at minutia or seemingly unimportant aspects of the world (which usually end up pretty important before all is said and done).

Now let's answer your question. Spoiler warning again:

In the Broken Earth, we got introduced to the Stillness and Essun in Book One. There was a lot of physical movement in that book as Essun was on the road for most of it (as were other characters), but the plot itself was relatively simple: A bad thing happened to this person and she needs to go somewhere and find someone, to fix it! And then pretty much the entirety of that book's narrative was "Who is this person, why does the bad thing matter, and how close does she get to finding her missing person?" Then in Book Two, we learned a little more about this person, a lot more about her impact on other characters including the one she's been trying to find, and we spent a while learning about orogeny, the Obelisk Gate, and what the stone eaters have been up to. I cheated a little on this; there wasn't room to do a deep dive into the backstory of one pivotal character, but I did finally reveal that this character is the "secret" narrator of the whole trilogy, and made his agenda clearer. I ended up putting his "deep dive" into Book Three instead, where it was particularly relevant to the STUFF! BLOWING!! UP!!!

The reason a lot of readers complain about "Middle Book Syndrome," I suspect, is because of this pattern -- and because of their expectations. A lot of people come at a middle book expecting Book One Redux. That's what you often get in shared-universe trilogies -- Book One over and over again, roughly the same balance of characters vs events each time, in a familiar setting. We're conditioned to want that, I think, from other episodic works. Comic books, for example: When I was working on FAR SECTOR, my editor at the time explained that I needed to try and have a fight or action scene in most of the issues. I hate fight scenes -- sorry! -- so that was hard for me. TV shows -- the ones that aren't themselves telling a single big story over time -- do this, too. I think of it as the "If You Liked X, Then Try... X!" structure. Absolutely nothing wrong with this structure, by the way. I'm just describing it, not throwing shade. I'm a big fan of stories like this myself.

But even for audience members who were expecting the Three-Act Trilogy structure instead, that middle book is going to be jarring. It's supposed to be jarring. The refugees have survived the first book but stopped to dress their wounds and regroup; the adventurers on a quest have reached an impasse and need to find allies and grind to build up their strength; the stalwart hero has just suffered a massive setback and needs to overcome their own doubt or character flaws. A good way to handle this is to take the characters out of their familiar space, and put them somewhere new, or give them a very different kind of challenge. [Mass Effect and LOTR spoilers] Oh, no, Shepard died and their team broke up! What now? Oh, no, Frodo and Sam are on their own trying to get to Mordor! They're just these little guys! How are they gonna make it? If you got overly attached to Shepard team from ME1, or the Fellowship, you're in for a rough ride in these followups. But the jarring nature of this kind of followup is absolutely necessary. An author who does this knows they're going to lose some readers, when they do it. Clearly I almost lost you! But I stand by that choice, because I think it made the whole trilogy better.

Sidebar: I'm old enough to remember the controversy back when "The Empire Strikes Back" came out. Critics haaaaaated that movie! It was too dark, they said; wasted too much time on unimportant stuff. Too much character work, not enough space battles. Then it became clear that audiences loved the second movie even more than the first, precisely because it was darker and because Luke spent so much time futzing around with Yoda and because there were all these girl cooties romantic moments between Leia and Han. A lot of the critics backpedaled at that point, with some of them even acknowledged that they'd been hoping for Star Wars All Over Again and not What Happens Next That Is Not Star Wars. They'd simply brought the wrong expectations to the story.

This is not to say that you have the wrong expectations, Ask-er. Maybe you were expecting exactly that structure, and you just don't like the way I handled it, or you think I did a poor job. Every reader's experience of a story is different, and not everybody's gonna want to pick up everything I throw down. But you asked why did everyone stay in one place, and this is why: to do a deep dive into the character of the Stillness itself. In a story where the setting was as much a "character" as the people in it, I felt it necessary to show enough of that setting for readers to care about it. Would you care, for example, if the town of Brevard (Damaya and Schaffa spend one night there in Book One) got blown off the map in Book Three? Probably not, because I spent no time on any of its citizens or issues. A lot of people cared about Castrima, though, by the end of Book Two.

Whoo, this got long! Hope it answers your question, Ask-er.

[princelylove]

i am slowly getting more and more annoyed with mr zeppeli himself i ate my fingers as i read your response to my ask AJAJHSUSH. thank you so much your highness i am burning my whole house rn.

actually, which yanderes do you think would be the most ANNOYING. like, not violent or anything but just plain annoying. the kind of people that make you wanna tear your hair out or commit a slow and painful murder.

(inspired heavily by narancia because i have a feeling he would be the most annoying little shit to deal with)

-🌸 anon

What an adorable thing you are. Don’t bite too hard, it’ll hinder your ability to compliment me. 

Oh, God. Most annoying to me, personally? Not in any order in particular, I feel as if this one would change depending on my mood:

Bruno hovers too much, and he tends to both infantilize and put a lot of responsibility on his darling. He expects his darling to parent Narancia but won’t let them handle a knife by themself. I’m doing a character study on him right now, so that’s all I’ll say, but just know that he is God’s punishment for whatever you did in a past life to deserve him.

Narancia is annoying- he’s a young guy who never got taught how to deep clean, spends his free time on his pull up bar, expects you to cook for him since he’s literally never been tasked with it, whines when you try to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of your six hours minimum long cuddling session, doesn’t know how to properly take care of an entire human being so just throws junk food at you and hopes you don’t starve, the list goes on. He loves you, he really does, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing. For someone as prissy as myself, I would die the first day. He doesn’t understand why I put those rollers in my hair- he just watched me straighten it, doesn’t that cancel out??? That’s stupid, oh, and another thing, what’s the point of owning five different versions of the same color of nail polish? It’s all red! Just have one, that isn’t crazy expensive! On top of Narancia being the worst roommate ever- he’s very irritable, and doesn’t really have a problem pulling a knife on you to get what he wants. He’s not as quick to snap as people think, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. Show signs of liking something more than him and he’ll maul it. 

It’s hard to set Cioccolata and Secco away from each other, they’re basically inseparable, but Cioccolata is capable of using logic, and Secco is not. If you’re on the ground in pain, obviously you’re going to have a hard time answering the little puppy’s questions. Secco doesn’t understand why you won’t play with him- he’s shoving his toy right in front of you, are you blind?? Play! With! Him! Throw it, play tug of war, SOMETHING, COME ON. There’s an interesting dynamic depending on who exactly you’re intended for- Cioccolata, Secco, or both. Let’s just talk about Secco alone, since Cioccolata isn’t annoying, he’s just a bit too affectionate sometimes. Secco’s forgetful, rude, jumps to conclusions, and you don’t even know what he looks like since he’s always wearing that bitch suit-esque thing. He nudges you to throw his toy- he probably thinks of you as human rather than another dog, and doesn’t understand why you aren’t behaving like Cioccolata does. If you were Cioccolata’s darling alone, or a shared darling, he’d probably think of you as another dog. But he was here first, so he’s got dibs on the good dog bed, AND cioccolata’s lap. As if you’d want that. Secco begs and begs and begs for you to give him as much attention as you possibly can- and somehow, you’re never doing it right. It’s like talking to a child who has surpassed the ‘Why?’ stage and has moved on to greater conquests- annoying you so badly that you ask Cioccolata if it’s fine to have a sip of his ‘not for dogs’ drink. Or two. Or three. Or the entire bottle. 

Rohan doesn’t ever shut the fuck up. He quite literally always has something to say, despite wanting to “observe.” He read an article this morning, let’s go visit the place it mentioned even though it’s a three hour train ride and supposed to rain for the rest of the week. He always wants to go explore- even when he promised that you could both stay home today and do something you want to do. It doesn’t make sense to Rohan- why wouldn’t you want to go see what the world has to offer? Probably because this is the fourth temple he’s wanted to visit this week and you don’t feel like going up two hundred stairs. (If his darling cannot walk, he makes sure it’s accessible beforehand. You’re not getting out of coming with him.) Rohan’s big on healthy living, and he feels a sense of superiority for eating right, and working out very consistently. He wants his darling to be perfectly well as well- how can he push you to your limits if you’re not at your best? You’d probably sleep better if he stopped talking for three hours past his initial ‘goodnight.’ 

Hazamada… is… he’s certainly a character! The literal only reason why he isn’t forcing himself upon his darling is because he’s too much of a coward- and that’s not my interpretation, that’s canon. His hobbies include bullying kittens and small animals, not showering, collecting manga, stalking idols, and tennis! Isn’t that nice, he does sports, he’s only a basement dweller half of the time. It isn’t even somewhat attractive when he tries to get it on with his darling, he’s like a dog humping your leg. He’s the type to call you a stupid bitch because you politely suggested he should wear deodorant before he hits on you. He’s canonically an exhibitionist- imagine sitting in class and looking over to check the clock and he’s just staring back at you while adjusting his pants. I’d switch schools. 

[moodymisty]

So work has been slow, and I've been thinking a lot about the Lorgar series you have going on and I was wondering, do you think that Lorgar's first experience with craving sexual intimacy is with reader ?

I'd imagine the cult of the Powers probably had some texts about sensuality and such, since one of the Powers is Slaanesh with a different name. Maybe scripts about things like ritualistic tantric massage. It's oddly cute to imagine Lorgar not giving those particular books much thought, until he starts having Thoughts™️ about a certain mortal that just won't fade. And then he soon has a pile of every old Slanat ritual book he can find near his desk, reading (and re-reading) them and looking at the illustrations with a voracity that surprises even himself.

Kor Phaeron is disturbed and baffled at Lorgar's new unexpected interest.

Also fun to think about: Reader being a virgin, and Lorgar's corruption kink just going feral and gnawing at the bars of its enclosure when he finds out he was the first to give her pleasure in that way. He'd be swinging between good ol' religious guilt ("I've sullied this Divine that walks upon us in the guise of a mortal, inflicted upon her my base desires.. I am more filthy than any beast...") and being Incredibly Horny that the two of you fell into "depravity" together. Or maybe even pride, that out of every person in the galaxy, He was chosen to lay with you in such a way, that He gets to be the one to experience your love.

I dunno. Just.. The Lorgar brainrot is REAL for me lately.

The Lorgar brainrot is real for us all, homie.

TW for like, virginity talk I know people don’t like that sometimes, and religious trauma

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I think you could go either way. Given Lorgar’s power and position it wouldn’t be too off to say that there’s more than likely been many people willing to keep his bed warm for a night, and nothing more. In that way his time with you would still the first time it goes beyond just a basic human itch he wanted scratched.

On the other hand, you could say he’s never, and that his knowledge is purely theoretical. I’m sure not many people would be willing to proposition a man such as him and risk religious execution.

Either are fun, but let’s go with the ladder.

Everything is going to be looked at in an entire new light, now. Religious texts with romantic implications, or straight up Slaneesh books like you said, all read very differently now that he’s fallen for you. He can’t help but picture you in those moments. What were once normal passages now make his mind wander to darker places, less able to maintain his composure.

As for Kor Phaeron, I think that he knows that his son is getting lost in more primal, human desires, though he knows that he can do little to stop it. It angers him to no end, that he's loosing his grip on Lorgar thanks to something as simple as sex.

And if you’re a virgin to top it off, he’s going to fucking lose it. His corruption kink is on fire. His religious trauma makes him swear and scold himself the entire time he ruins something so pure. His shame burns at him like hot coals, as it nearly hurts from how much he wants you. Expect to hear mutterings about how you've given so much of yourself to him, how it's like you were made for him, how he ruts into you like a beast and tarnishes you. Though he would never dare to stop.

And if you wore a white dress/robe for him? The whole thing just about ends in moments. He's gone.