#aka seal jerky

[carolofthebell]

Bathtime for Scuttles

[blue-rose-soul]

After sealing up the dark fountain in the library, Susie and Kris have a nice relaxing chat by the riverside. Okay, not that relaxing.

Aka, the soul tells Susie the truth except not really, and Susie gives them an idea.

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow as someone else?”

The words are out of their lips before they can think better of them. Susie stares, cheek bulging with the massive handful of chocolates she shoved in there and a little drool trickling down the corner of her mouth. She chews slowly, and Soul can’t help worrying she’ll choke as she swallows it down.

“What-” Her voice sounds a little raw. Susie wipes the corner of her mouth on the back of her sleeve.  “-the hell are you talking about?”

The two of them are in the park, sitting in the dirt by the river. The chocolates they’re sharing were meant for someone else entirely and maybe it was kind of mean to take them. But it seemed like a very Kris-like thing to do. It feels like that’s the metric by which they measure all of their actions; Kris-like or un-Kris-like.

Soul averts their eyes and pops a piece of chocolate in their mouth.

Kris’s mouth.

It tastes like nothing. Like everything else they’ve eaten. Like the moss and the dark burger and the crumbs of butterscotch pie caked around their mouth when they climbed out of bed this morning.

“Like... If you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours, in a room didn’t recognize. And a grown up you didn’t know came in and called you a different name and told you to get ready to school like everything was normal. And when you got out of bed and looked in the mirror you saw a different face and when you spoke your voice sounded different... What would you do?”

“Uh... Freak out and call the police probably?”

Okay, yeah, that would be the normal response, Soul supposes. They roll the tasteless candy around on their tongue, then swallow without chewing.

“Except, when it happens you don’t feel freaked out and everyone around you acts like they know you already?”

“Uh... Then I’d just... go along with it- Kris, what the fuck is this about? Are you still messed up from that creepy robo-puppet fight? Dude, that thing was beyond messed up. Just wonky code, like Ralsei said. You can’t take anything it said seriously.”

“Yeah, no, I know. It’s just...”

As certain as they were this morning that last night’s events were, well, real, the more time passed the less real it seemed. By the time they’d woken up in Alphys’s classroom earlier that afternoon, Soul was half-convinced it really was a dream after all.

And then a funny little man jumped out of a dumpster.

“Some of the stuff he said reminded me of a, uh, a weird dream I had the other night, and...”

Aaaaaaand why did they have to go and say anything? Dark Worlds and talking toys are weird enough already. If they come out and admit they aren’t really Kris...

WHAT ARE THESE STRINGS!? WHY AM I NOT [BIG] ENOUGH!? It's still DARK... SO DARK!

They feel their sins crawling on their back.

“I got this idea for a story. Based on the dream.”

“Oh.” Susie scoops up another fistful of chocolate. “I didn’t know you wrote stories.”

“I don’t, usually,” Soul says. “I mostly just have ideas that I daydream about and never get around to actually writing down. But I wanna try. Writing this one, I mean.”

There’s only a couple of chocolates left. Soul plucks one between their thumb and forefinger.

“So what’d’ya dream about?”

They pop the chocolate in their mouth to buy themself a few seconds. As they replay last night in their head they feel Kris’s throat begin to constrict, Kris’s stomach churning uncomfortably. The chocolate felt like a stone going down.

“I was in my room,” they begin. “And my body started moving on its own. At first I thought I was sleepwalking. My body just kinda... rolled off the bed and moved all jerky and zombie-like to the center of the room-”

Just a few moments. Just a few moments of terror, complete helplessness. Is that how Kris feels all the time? Is that how Kris feels right now?

“-and then the hand raised and just kind of... dug into my chest.” Susie’s eyes are wide, and she cracks a little smile. “And it didn’t hurt, exactly, but it seemed like it should have. Then my hand ripped out my... my heart, except instead of the actual organ it was like one of those little valentine hearts, you know? And there wasn’t any blood or a wound or anything. Then my body threw the heart across a room into this birdcage and I could... see myself standing across the room, like I was the heart watching myself pull out a knife and grin and it was really really-”

“Creepy,” Susie finishes for them through her mouthful of chocolates. Soul nods. “That sounds like a pretty fucked up nightmare.”

Soul considers reaching for the last piece of candy. But they may as well leave it for someone who can actually taste it.

“So the story’s kinda about a mysterious being that takes control of this kid’s body, and then loses their memory so they don’t remember why they did it in the first place, or how to leave.”

“Why do they wanna leave?” Susie asks. Soul’s gaze snaps from the water to their friend.

Is she really their friend?

“Well... because they want to give the kid their freedom back.”

“Then why did they take over the kid’s body in the first place?”

“I... haven’t figured that part out yet.” Soul raises their hand, touches their fingers to their chest. A part of them wonders if, if they pressed hard enough, could they reach through skin and bone and rip themself out of this body. They’re scared to try. “That’s the part I’m stuck on, why the mysterious being did what they did."

Susie hums thoughtfully. Then she points to the heart-shaped box.

“You gonna eat that?” She doesn’t wait for Soul’s answer before reaching for the last candy, but they shake their head anyway. As she chews on the candy she hums again. “Maybe the mysterious being was escaping from something real bad.”

Huh?

“Escaping?”

“Yeah, like...” She swallows the chocolate down. “Maybe they’re like... an interdimensional refugee from someplace real fucked up, and they only way they could come to our world was by hopping into someone else’s body.”

‘Our world.’ Soul muses over that phrase. They’d taken it for granted that they were from this same world as Susie, and Kris, and Toriel and the rest. But what if they really did come from someplace else? A Dark World or... Or what if there were others? What would another world even look like?

“Oh! Oh! Oh! What if- What if-!” Susie grins at them, sharp teeth beaming proudly. “They’re, like, an outlaw on the run jumping from world to world running from the interdimensional police!?”

She sounds so enthusiastic and Soul can’t help but snort but then the full weight of her words really hits them.

What if they were...

‘Was I somebody else before I became Kris?’

What if they really were some horrible person before? They don’t know that they weren’t. They... don’t know who they are. All day they based their decisions on what was ‘Kris-like’ and what was ‘un-Kris-like.’ Until they came here, to the river, where it is quiet and peaceful and they can sit and  share a box of chocolates with their new friend and for just one moment they felt bold enough to speak for themself.

They feel Susie’s eyes on them as their expression falls.

“Hey, if you don’t like my idea, you don’t have to use it,” Susie says with a gentleness that oddly doesn’t sound out of place coming from her. “It was just a suggestion.”

“No, it’s a good idea,” Soul is quick to assure her. “I just started thinking... that I feel sorry for the kid. Like if the mysterious being gets their memories back and goes back to being a bad guy, but they’re using the kid’s body to do it...”

“I mean, it’s your story,” Susie says as they trail off. “You can make it so they ‘learned the error of their ways’ or whatever while living with the kid. Or, hell, if they felt bad about taking the kid’s body from the get go maybe they were never that bad in the first place.”

There’s a smalls well of warmth in their chest as she says that. It fades quickly.

“So do the being and the kid go on a quest to find them a new body or something?”

“Uh, something like that. They can’t just go and control someone else though.”

“Not even an actual bad guy?”

“The mysterious being doesn’t want to steal someone else’s body,” Soul says. “They want one of their own.”

“Then they should make a robot body. All covered in spikes and- and-” Susie holds out her fist. “With detachable rocket hands!”

Soul chuckles.

“With laser eyes,” they add.

“That can fly!” Susie continues.

“And has the whole internet in their head- Okay, no, that’d be scary.”

Susie snorts at that.

A robot body... It sounds ridiculous, or at least it would have a few days ago. But now they actually know some living robots, don’t they? Maybe they can talk to Queen, ask her if something like that is actually possible for her to make.

Then again, if she made them a new body it’d probably explode.

The next to come to mind are Sweet Cap’n Cakes. Those three goofballs may be, well, goofballs, but they certainly know how to build a mech. Surely a human or monster-sized body would be much easier?

Soul’s pulse begins to race a little. They could really have one. Their own body. Maybe it would seem like a downgrade to some, but it’s not like they’d be losing much. They already can’t taste anything or smell anything or feel anything (that isn’t pain), so they wouldn’t be losing those senses. Between odd dreams and Kris separating them they’re hardly getting any sleep anyway.

They could speak with their own voice, walk on their own two feet.

They could have their own name.

They could talk to Susie and Ralsei and... maybe they’d still like them even if... even if they weren’t Kris.

Maybe...

“Uh... Kris?”

Realizing they’ve zoned out again, Soul turns to Susie. She’s got a nervous smile on her face and a hand planted over her stomach.

“Where... did you say you got those chocolates again?”

Before they can think to answer, it hits them. Like a bit of shrapnel falling into the pit of their stomach. It’s sharp and it burns like when an enemy attack hits their SOUL in combat. And poor Susie, who’s devoured most of the chocolate herself, rolls over with a pained groan as her stomach cramps.

“We-” Brruuuuurp. “-probably shouldn’t have eaten that.”

“YA THINK!?”

It takes a few minutes for them to recover from their stomach cramps, which turns into a joke after the fact. Now they don’t feel so guilty for keeping Alphys’s chocolates. Only for accidentally poisoning Susie. And Kris. But mostly Susie, even though she assures them it’s far from the most dangerous thing she’s ever eaten and they know she’s probably telling the truth. She still agrees to walk the rest of the way home with them.

They walk in relative silence, aside from making a few comments about the people they pass. Soul is trying to be more Kris-like, which means less talkative. That gives them more time to think. About their plan, about Susie’s words, about the little pink and yellow glasses rolled up with various other bits and bobs at the bottom of their pocket.

They wonder if Kris couldn’t have just... pulled Soul out of their chest in the basement of Queen’s castle. Handed them over to Spamton without a fight. It probably would have been easier. And it wouldn’t be so different from what Soul is planning to do now.

Except that Spamton wasn’t - isn’t? - an empty shell.

For the funny little salesman it probably would have been just trading one set of strings for another. Maybe that’s why Kris didn’t do it. Or maybe they just didn’t want to do it with Susie and Ralsei right there...

There’s a fragile, flimsy hope that Kris did it for their sake. That they wouldn’t give Soul up. Soul doesn’t dare hold onto that hope. As much as they have faith - choose to have faith - in Kris’s inherent goodness, they can’t imagine any scenario where Kris doesn’t resent them.

“Uh, that question you asked earlier...” Susie’s voice, uncharacteristically nervous, snaps them from their thoughts. “If I woke up tomorrow as someone else? Well, couple a days ago my answer woulda been ‘live it up and cause some carnage.’“

When Soul turns to her, Susie is pointedly looking straight ahead. And as she continues to speak, she turns her head away.

“Now though? I guess I’d... try to figure out how to put things back. Since... y’know. I don’t think I’d wanna live a life where we aren’t... friends.”

Soul stares at her. Then cracks a grin.

“Sap.”

“Who’re you calling a sap you little dork!?” Susie growls but there’s a giant grin on her face as she punches them in the arm. “You want me to bite your face off punk? Huh? Do ya?”

That only has Soul laughing harder, which causes Susie to pull them into a loose chokehold and mess up their hair. They continue to laugh and roughhouse all the way back to the Dreemur residence. 

[autobots-and-their-crazy-kids]

The TFP Autobots are corrupt like the TFA Autobots...

I see a lot of talk about the TFA Autobots being secretly corrupt, but not a lot of talk about TFP Autobots also being corrupt... 

Although to be fair, most of those corrupt Autobots probably died during the war... 

However, some of this flawed corruption still somewhat lingers in the surviving Autobots... 

1. Hypocrisy 

*The Autobots never forgave Starscream for killing Cliffjumper and bragging about it, even though Bumblebee gave Skyquake a more gruesome death and the Autobots proudly told war stories and bragged about their own kills, including countless vehicons... 

*This violence also kinda messed up the main humans (especially Miko), making them think it’s okay to treat your enemies cruelly... 

*Which leads to them sealing Soundwave (and Laserbeak) into the Shadowzone, a fate worse then death... 

2. Racism Against Organics (or at least humans...)

*It’s more obvious with Ratchet sometimes, but Arcee and Bulkhead have had their own subtle racist moments during the start of the show... it’s kinda implied that Optimus was the only Autobot that actually cared about humanity, before the Autobots meet Jack, Raf and Miko... although to be fair, the only human that they truly knew before those 3 was a jerky human (Fowler) that always yelled at them about property damage... 

3. Their Cruel Treatment Of Starscream 

*They usually treat Starscream as if he’s worse then Megatron, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth... 

*Even when Starscream surprisingly, selflessly and honorably saved Arcee’s life from Airachnid and then sparing her as payment for sparing his own life... the Autobots still treat him like he’s trash and Bulkhead even tried to kill him... even Optimus (who was willing to reason with Megatron and even Unicron) thinks that Starscream is beyond all hope... 

*There’s also the times that they were willing to leave Starscream to die... like Ratchet only willing to heal Starscream, once the seeker gave him useful information... or when Arcee and Bulkhead left him to carry Bulkhead’s giant underground boulder (even though it’s not Starscream’s fault Bulkhead ended up there), leaving him to only be rescued by Megatron (aka his abuser) and the Autobots call this ‘mercy’... 

*They also only truly accepted Knockout as an Autobot, when he knocked Starscream out... 

*In some ways, it’s probably a good thing that Starscream didn’t join the Autobots after all... 

4. Leaving Certain People To Die 

*Starscream isn’t the only one the Autobots were willing to leave behind... 

*There’s also the times Bulkhead was willing to let the humans, Fowler and Vince get kidnapped and also possibly tortured by the Decepticons, cause they were both jerks... (No wonder Bulkhead gets along with Miko, they’re both morally messed up...) 

*Then there’s also the Autobots being okay with Breakdown captured by MECH, until Optimus tells them why it’s not a great idea to let this happen... 

5. How They Act Without Optimus Prime Around 

*The Autobots all love Optimus and hate disappointing him... but when he’s not around... they’re shown to do and say messed up things, including the things I mentioned on this list... 

*When they temporarily lost Optimus at the end of Season 1, they turn on each other pretty easily and were close to fight each other... 

*Compare that to Cliffjumper’s death, whom they all quickly got over after the first 5 episodes, even Arcee... 

[muffinlance]

hey muffin do you have any tips for pacing a story. i struggle with that and your really good at it. IE having things that arent immediately relevant to the story or even at all but still add to the world building and entertainment. like all the seal jerky stuff in salvage or the running gag of im not talking to you

Super good question! I'll focus on pacing the world building/fun background details and character introductions, since both of those follow the same guidelines. As with all writing advice, there are different opinions on this, but this is my general rule:

No more than one new element/character per chapter (or about every 4k words, if your chapters are super long). When introducing more than that, keep them related.

The mistake I see most often in new writers is the dread front-loading of world info/characters, aka info-dumping/name-dumping. For the world info, it slows down your story and generally makes it feel amateur-ish. For names, it makes it really hard for people to remember the characters. They think they are speeding things up by front-loading, but they're actually just making things harder to remember.

What I do is intro an element/character, and build on them a little more each chapter as the story progresses. It's also VERY important to cue readers when the character/element returns, especially if it's been awhile since it was introed. It's very hard to cue too much, so when in doubt, do so.

Examples from Salvage, since that's my most widely read story.

EX of an element: I introduced the concept of Earth Kingdom sand clocks around chapter 8, at the same time as Fire Nation and Water Tribe senses of time. Related concepts! In chapter 11, with Lt. Nergui of the Earth Kingdom, I really wanted to use a sand-related metaphor ("just the barest pinch of sand" as a measure of time). But it had been a few chapters; always assume readers will forget (especially true in fanfiction, where there can be weeks or months between chapters). So I cued readers by reminding them about the sand clocks earlier in the scene. BOOM, context!

EX of an element: Isopuppies. They were very briefly introduced in chapter two, establishing them as a dog-analog with some kind of horrible sharp-tipped legs. Every chapter after has added elements: they have many many pereopods, they can climb vertical wood, exoskeletons, fetch, molting. Start with the most basic and relevant facts, and build!

Ex of a character: Healer Kustaa. Is always referred to as Healer Kustaa the first time he appears in a chapter. That way if people forgot his name, I've cued them to his role, which will help readers pull up the associated memories.

Ex of a character: Aake. He's there in chapter one as the guy ready to stab Zuko. His name is NOT introduced, and it's not ultimately important if people relate that action to him. Chapter two sees him grumbling and black-eyed from dealing with hypothermia!Zuko. Chapter three he suggests leg breaking, and officially becomes the face of all antagonistic crew members. (Which is another thing: don't have more characters than you need. Picking a "face of..." and then just implying that similar-minded people also exist is enough.) From there he gets the official Leg-Breaker moniker, and we're on the road to his development as he and Zuko win each other over. He moves only a little bit each chapter, but by the end you can look back and see the development.

TL;DR: Intro one thing/person at a time. Build it/them up slowly in subsequent chapters. DO NOT INFO OR NAME DUMP. Cue readers to help them remember.

[boomerangguy]

Sukka Week may have ended on the calendar, but due to my horrific procrastination habits, I’ll probably be dropping my Sukka Week fics for another week or two! 😅😅😅

Three Weeks Out by GeneralKenobi212

Summary: For Sokka, nothing beats walking into his kitchen in the middle of the night and discovering his pregnant wife gobbling jerky like she’s trying to drive tiger-seals into extinction.

(Well…maybe except making love to her afterwards.)

Rated: E (for explicit sexual content)

Pairing: Sukka

And as a devoted Sukka stan, it would be remiss of me not to take this opportunity to broadcast to everyone who will listen that @the-power-of-stuff, aka Myargalargan on AO3, wrote her own Sukka prego smut fic titled this beauty i’d missed as part of our fic swap…and it’s absolutely incredible! 🤩🤤 If you love Sukka, even just a tiny little bit, you have to go check it out!

[i-would-like-some-tea]

More crappy creature animations.

This time:

Skuttles aka Sokka aka Seal Jerky, the amazing isopuppy from @muffinlance’s Salvage

[thewickling]

winding moonrise - hike through memory lane

master post

[Context: This occurs after interlude (aka the Lan juniors go from hiding their junk food to earnestly defending LWJ in their hearts) and is in the present timeline.]

The woods surrounding the Lan residence are dense, thick growth. The paths drawn on it arise from the natural patterns of moving animals (aside from the few needed to upkeep their only human facade). So as the sun acrosses the sky, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's journey is a brisk hike through towering trees and healthy undergrowth.

Despite the nonstop marching, neither of the men break a sweat. Imagining how nice and cool Lan Wangji's touch must be, Wei Wuxian's palms itch. His dark clothes are helpful for hiding blood stains and blending into the night but when it comes to this though his skin does not enjoy the oppressive heat condensed by the black covering the majority of it. Wei Wuxian thinks to himself that Lan Wangji's cold aura probably turns the air near him refreshing light. Glancing over, he wonders aloud, "How does your family get around? I'm pretty athletic and this a little rough. It'll take at least another two or three hours to get off your land."

"We have cars. The roads here aren't fit for them," he says, raising a brow pointedly.

"Right, werewolves." Snapping his fingers, Wei Wuxian nods. "Oh. This must be annoying. Human walking speed."

Lan Wangji angles his head. Frustration never crosses his mind. He still basks in the familiarity of walking side-by-side with his dearest person, especially in the comfort that this is neither a memory nor a dream (the kind anyone else would call a nightmare because it pierces each time him with the reality that he will never again hear his moon's laughter, smell the vibrant lake breeze, feel his playful touch).

Lan Wangji swallows a lump.

He bathes in the easy company, in the embrace of Wei Wuxian's endless commentary, and in the slight brush of shoulders that tells him that Wei Wuxian is solid. They could meander for hours upon hours and he could have no complaint.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminds him this is temporary. That this action promises no future. Even factoring out his obligations, this moment can be savored, etched into his bones, and treasured but it not extend into eternity. His moon will never love a canine and so their paths will always divert.

Still, he says, by way of explanation, "Unnecessary transformation is prohibited."

"But," Wei Wuxian furrows his brow. Half of him understands the need for restrictions, but the other hand feels like he would die in the Lan pack. He vaguely recalls Nie Huaisang bragging about his da-ge's impressive form and general strength in the middle of campus in broad daylight. "You don't need to change to use speed or strength or ..."

He gestures vaguely to fill in the gaps. "If you weren't burdened by me, you'd be up in the mountains already, sniffing for clues."

A light bulb goes off. He grins, "You carried me before you can carry me again."

He peers at Lan Wangji's stoic face. He awaits the reaction. His fingers brush a qinggong talisman, readying his wrist to flick it out. He grins, thinking all the times Lan Wangji's jumped, glared, or otherwise displayed the affronted reaction of a sheltered boy being scandalized for the first time.

"Mnn."

Lan Wangji kneels in front of a bewildered Wei Wuxian.

"When could you take a joke?" he gasps, staring at the broad back in front of him. "No-"

Lan Wangji lifts him. His actions come so jerky and abrupt that Wei Wuxian has no choice but to cling to sturdy shoulders. The world blurs around him. Wei Wuxian tenses.

His protest dies.

His memory stirs. His mind overlaps events with the elegant back in front of him. It plays simultaneously:

He faintly feels the rough leather of his father's jacket. His tiny fingers dug into short hair. A blurred figure, who must be his father, carried him on stable shoulders.

An indistinct road stretches out in front of them. Wei Ying giggled as his father grabbed his hands and lifted him. He is delivered into his mother's lap. Her laughter vibrated through him and his father chuckles from above. The reins of mule he and his mother sat on laid in his father's grasp.

The wind carries away his heat, feeding the summoned memories.

A chill seeped into his bare feet. He pulled on his ratty shirt. It barely covered his front.

A kind voice called him.

Wei Ying pointed to his chest, vaguely recalling shape of his name.

"Do you want to go home with uncle?" the man kneeled.

"Is it away from dogs?"

The kind man frowned, causing Wei Ying to question if he asked for too much. He nodded, centimeter by centimeter as if it pained him.

Wei Ying found himself high above the street where fierce fangs wouldn't steal his food. The clean and rich texture of Jiang Fengmian's robe engraved in his heart.

His mind whirls. His senses narrow to the warmth under his hands.

Wei Ying's trembled on Jiang Yanli's delicate back. His scrapes stung and watered his eyes, but he swallowed his complaints with a quivering lip.

She promised forgiveness and food and family. Things he later knew she could not guarrante but his da-jie was no more than twelve or thirteen as she trekked through the night. She called him "didi" and sighed "A-Cheng" when she had to pull her other brother from a ditch.

She carried Wei Ying and held Jiang Cheng's hand. He forgot how his palms stung from splinters and recalled only her warmth.That infused with the gentle sensation that spread through his veins with the soup she made.

The taste of laughter lingers in his mouth. His mind conjures.

Wei Ying wailed. His shoulders screamed. Bands of heat radiate from his back.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. "Stop shouting or I'll drop you.

He clung tighter to Jiang Cheng. His feet skimmed the wood panels. The two preteens teethered precariously. The difference in their heights was only a handful of centimeters but the proportions were not equal. Even at that age, his legs outpaced the rest of him only defeated by the rate he could chatter.

"How could Lan-laoshi be so cruel?" he whined, pressing his face into his wrist pitifully.

Furrowing his brow, Jiang Chen hefted him higher. "You're lucky he didn't call father."

"A-Cheng, whose side are you on?"

He glared. "If you don't shut up, I'll break your legs."

"Try it." He pulled tigher becoming a second skin. "Let's see who suffers first."

One boy scoffed and the other chuckled.

Jiang Cheng's back was not huge or fitter than Wei Ying's (especially at that age) but it was reliable enough to climb when a dog was near or to lean on when he caused too much mischief.

Wei Wuxian doesn't know when it shifted, when others no longer picked him up, when it became his duty to carry others. He has no complaints. All these associations bloom in a second, living in a few heartbeats like flowers in a dessert. A short life that captures his senses.

He freezes atop Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji questions what possessed him. His heart thunders, carrying his moon. The transfusion of heat is a blessing. In equal measure, it is a curse. He will pay the price for how much he will yearn for it when it is gone.

Wei Wuxian's breath brushes his cheek. His face burns. A slight turn and their cheeks would kiss. A touch more and he could devour Wei Wuxian's mouth.

Clenching his jaw, he locks his neck. He picks up pace. He thinks, Regulate yourself.

He inhales.

The vibrant and enrich earth of his pack lands fill his lungs along with the refreshing, clean, and salty scent of Wei Wuxian. They mingle to form a lake nestled deep in the mountains. If anyone asked Lan Wangji how he imagined heavens smelled he would describe this: his moon's scent intertwined in the memory of his home.

That breath seizes his heart rather than calms him. Even with that pinch of ash and incense, he wants it bottled in his lungs.

He picks up pace. Twigs crunch. He would love to indulge in more of this, but he has no right to hoard Wei Wuxian's warmth or touch or scent. He picks up pace.

The wind whips through his hair, bringing Wei Wuxian to himself. The momentum threatens to drag him off. Huddling down, all Wei Wuxian can do is spit out hair. His fringe razes his vision; he inquires the heavens how even as his hair becomes a bird's nest Lan Wangji appears like a portrait.

His hair sweeps back artistically as if arranged by the air spirits to frame his phoenix eyes and high cheek bones. Wei Wuxian has to squint yet Lan Wangji lowered lids show off how his eyelashs seem painted on with a fine brush. He wonders, What merits did Lan Zhan achieve in his past life to be blessed with such beauty? Too bad he always looks so somber.

*

Lan Wangji stops several meters from the cave opening. He releases Wei Wuxian. The lack of warmth and pressure burdens his heart. He smooths out nonexistent wrinkles.

Wei Wuxian whistles a hauntingly sweet tune.

The hairs on Lan Wangji's neck rise. Werewolves are not attuned to magic as many paranatural beings are, but his keen senses translate the increase in yin energy as wrongness in the atmosphere.

A pale figure emerges from the opening.

"Wei-gongzi," a hestiant voice calls out, pausing. He stammers, "Lan er-gongzi?"

Lan Wangji stares at the ghost in broad daylight.

"Wen Qionglin."

He recognizes Wen Ning immediately as he would Nie Huaisang or Jiang Cheng or any other dormmate of Wei Wuxian's. Though the quiet man never entered Wei Wuxian's inner circle of friends or had many friends, Lan Wangji memorized anyone who held his moon's attention. (The aggressive Wens repelled everyone except other bullies and even if Wen Ning did not fit within his own family he had no place outside of it.)

Wen Ning hovers. His clothes discolored and tattered from a terrible accident. His throat shows trailing gnashes sealed up like scars. He would be frightening if he weren't peering at Lan Wangji with confusion and curiosity.

"Good! The two of you recognize each other. We don't have to go through plesantaries." Wei Wuxian rattles off. "Wen Ning, how's our captive doing?"

An outstretched arm blocks Wei Wuxian's path forward.

"Wei Ying."

Rubbing his neck, Wei Wuxian says, "Long story."

"Are you a necromancer?"

He pauses. Terms never bothered Wei Wuxian. He never understood people who harped on the differences between wizards, mages, and magus. All that mattered was the message it relayed: someone who can cast magic. He nods.

Lan Wangji blinks. Digesting that his moon falls under the most wretched, immoral, and accursed of casters, he can't swallow it. Certainly Wei Wuxian commands the dead, he witnessed it. Yet the definition of a necromancer as a being of evil and rotten ethics did not match Wei Wuxian in the slightest. He whispers, "Why?"

"Lan Zhan." His mouth curves but the smile does not reach his eyes. He, himself, does not notice the bitterness on his tongue. The little joy he gained from being accepted and treated kindly slips from his heart like grains of sand in an hourglass. "You're mistaken. I am not the kind of necromancer you're think of. Maybe in a world where digging up corpses wasn't so difficult I might have gone down that path. But I'm more of a spirit summoner."

"Of course my hands aren't clean. But I don't twist spirits to my will either," he laughs as screams and curses ring in his ears. "I don't need to. A vengeful spirit doesn't need much encouragment to cause harm."

Wei Ying, he thinks, overturns my world again.

Lan Wangji locks in place with desire to hide Wei Wuxian away from the world and guide him back to righteous path. That battles with the directive to never cause his moon distress. The heady cocktail of emotions spewing from Wei Wuxian like molten rock state that he has failed.

The pack prohibits infringing on another person, including their scent. A person has a right to privacy. And unlike what the movies make it out to be, emotions are not aromas beyond a handful such as fear and hatred. Is a scent like a forest? Or did you take pine, moist soil, and fresh water to be a forest rather than a park? The intensity of Wei Wuxian's emotions spit his pheromones everywhere.

His wolf whimpers to soothe their mate. His wolf urges bring Wei Wuxian to their den. His wolf screams defend their moon.

Lan Wangji learned from young that first instincts are often wrong. That he should follow protocol. In case that would be to cease all contact with the hated necromancer and report to the pack.

He frowns. He's essence protests, picturing how he might not even have another hour with his moon. Digging his nails into his palms, he emotionally trembles between the multiple conflicting truths he holds.

"I'm sorry," Wei Wuxian says kindly, "I should have mentioned it earlier. Thank you for the meal. If you disagree with my methods, after this, we can each go our own way with no hard feelings.

Lan Wangji snaps back to himself. His palm itches to cover Wei Wuxian's mouth. He hates those words. If he could ban them from being spoken he would. He doesn't need or want Wei Wuxian's apologies or gratitude. All he wants is to have the honor of revolting around his moon.

He inhales. The spectral chill stings his nostrils along with the telling hint of incense. His instincts state that Wen Ning is not merely a wandering spirit.

He skims Wei Wuxian's folded arms and tense shoulders. He bites his cheek.

It was Wei Wuxian who taught him that the teachings that guarranted his pack's survival should also be questioned. It was always Wei Wuxian who challenged him:

"If the families of a serial killer's 30 victims joined together and killed him, should they be guilty of murder?"

"They are guilty," Lan Wangji said, lengthening his stride to escape the bundle of emotions teeming in his chest.

"Ah," he hummed, tapping his chin. Wei Wuxian had a few centimeters on Lan Wangji so he matched the change easily.

Licking seam of his mouth, he tried his hardest not to follow the finger up to Wei Wuxian's pursed lips."I said should they be guilty."

"They committed the crime. They are guilty," he says, matter-of-fact. "The suspect should have been turned over."

"What if the suspect was arrested and released." He punctuated his statements with his finger. "But he objective killed those families' sons and daughters?"

Pushing down the urge to nip that finger, Lan Wangji stated, "That is unjust."

"It happens. Like when the killer is the son of an untouchable politician." He shrugged.

"The courts should be investigated."

"Let's put aside the ethics of the corruptible organizations," he debated. "But does that circumstance change whether or not the families should be guilty? Because if it does,..."

Lan Wangji does not remember how that conversation ended. In all likelihood, he stormed off because he was so overwhelmed by Wei Wuxian's presence and muddled by his words, that he could not stay there.

It resurfaced in his mind as the details of the Jiang arson were released. It was quite clear who set off the fires, the Wen clan snubs subtlety. Yet the case was deemed unsolveable. He did not fault the police for not understanding magic but clearly several Wens died in the fire and the animity between the two clans was quite clear.

He never considered that inquiry more than a hypothetical. Now in that situation, while he could not call himself family or take vengence, when the Wens died under mysterious circumstances, he understood those imagined people's motive.

He didn't relish their deaths nor did he approve of the slaughter of the young and old. Even if his reasoning was shaken, he trusted the pack's principles. Yet when he saw how easily his elders looked the other way and called the deaths correct when every lesson they pressed in him asserted otherwise, he bitterly smiled that even dead his moon could shake his foundations.

So, perhaps his understanding of necromancers is shallow. That he must reflect more. His teachings are not wrong he simply must adapt them to his present.

In his innermost thoughts, the ones he had been taught to supress, he knew his true motive: he could not bear to part with Wei Wuxian after those words. It was as simple and selfish and shameful as that. As he will bear the karma for supporting the Wen annihilation, he will the consequence of this decision. He is committed to Wei Wuxian.

He questions, "Can you control it?"

Wei Wuxian angles his head. A second later, he gets it. That madness is associated with necromancers almost as much as it is with the elderitch meddling warlocks.

Vestigal ash and smoke fill his lungs. The stickiness of blood raining down on him never quite leaves his dreams. Screams and pleads pound on his ears.

If he met past himself, he would whack that egoistic, hubris filled, and edgey child and snap the idiotic tool he created much earlier.

Appraising the pinnacle of a Confucian gentlemen, he nods. He swears, "If I go too far, I'll accept any verdict of yours. If I die by your hands, that would only be proper."

He gestures toward the cavern opening. He questions which interaction of theirs sparked the second oath. He swears in his oul to never allow to come to that point.

The space is dim and dusty. The air within pulls several degrees lower than the forest outside. Amongst the nature there's a touch of unpleasant scents: vomit, urine, and feces masked with liberal bleach usage.

Wei Wuxian hums.

A will-o-wisp drifts down from the ceiling followed by another. The two cast flickering lights around the tunnel.

Four meters in, a man dressed like a deliquent glares at them.

"Bringing a guard dog? Do you think I'm scared?" the vampire sneers from several layered wards.

Wen Ning reveals, "He flinched when I floated too close."

"I don't think you can trick me," he hissed, "commanding your Ghost General to be pretend to be docile."

Wei Wuxian chuckles.

Lan Wangji notes the title. It tickles the back of mind.

"If you won't talk," he gestures. "Wen Ning do your thing."

Wen Ning darts forward. His aura thickens with yin energy. He reaches out as if to gouge the vampire's skulll.

"Stop! No fuck. I'll die." He scrambles backwards.

Gesturing stop, he asks, "Well? Have you loosened your tongue?"

"You and your mutt have no idea what you're getting into."

Wei Wuxian frowns. Walking up to the ward boundary, he gestures. "Can you be more original? Dog and now mutt? And aren't you ashamed of calling such this gentleman a mutt?"

Lan Wangji wrinkles his nose. A nettle of smoke claws his senses. He yanks Wei Wuxian.

Smoke rises from the vampire. Wide-eyed, he looks down and to Wei Wuxian. He pleads with the air, "I didn't betray you."

Flames lick the wards. Pushing on them, it distorts the air where the magics clash. A funnel of fire and smoke burn out in ten seconds, leaving only ash atop cinnabar markings.

"Well, that isn't good." Wei Wuxian says at least.

Wen Ning floats down, craning his neck. He wonders, Why the two as still standing so close?

"We'll have to take a closer look where A-Zhui was held then."

"Wait."

Wei Wuxain grabs and pulls. "Hm?"

"What would Wen-gongzi do?"

"Oh. That." Wei Wuxian shrugs. "I have no idea. I figured if he was afraid of Wen Ning maybe that would push him to talk. But from that fire and the vampire's words,..."

He peeks at Lan Wangji's stern expression. "How much do you understand about oaths?"

"Was that backfire?"

Wei Wuxian gestures meh with his body. "From his words, it doesn't seem so. My best guess is he had a pretty one-sided oat or maybe a contract. Since he didn't show up, they decided to cut their lost. This is the third one I lost like this. I figure if I catch enough of them one'll crack."

"Third?"

He clarifies, "Third vampire. First group of them. Most of them are pretty careful but there's been a string of disappearances. I noticed when it kicked up to ripping people out of bars."

"Hm... what do you suspect?"

Stopping at the back of the cave, there was a two or three cages pushed to the wall which was definitely not good news.

Wei Wuxian directs the will-o-wisp to light the area properly. "At first, I thought it was an immature vampire without a sire. Or one that went mad. It fit the random pattern in its victims. Most vamps are have a type after all."

"Then I floated around the idea that maybe there was a reckless sire making vamplings. Or maybe a coven formed that doesn't follow the rules." Wei Wuxian surveys the fairly empty space. "But now..."

He points at the cages.

"Human trafficking?"

"Hm... Did you pack hear anything?"

He shakes.

"I figured." He points to a drawn the walls. "Silencing glyph."

Wei Wuxian interwines his fingers. Twisting, he faces his palms upwards, he stretches, "I guess it's down to paper and pen investigation."

[avatarhanami]

Let us introduce you to Hanami’s animal guide, Sora! He’s an extinct species called Peregrine Dire Wolves (aka Peregrine Falcon/wolf but I did mix in a little bit of Alaskan malamute for some extra fluff). They’re native to the mountainous forests surrounding where the Northern Air Temple will one day be built. Sora has been domesticated since he was a wee pup and doesn’t have much experience being in the wild. He’s very wild and extremely energetic, just like his hooman. He loves Kenai’s seal jerky and has a dire need to serenade his hoomans at 2 am.

[wolfoncaffeine]

half a homecoming

For the first time in fifteen years, she returns home. Almost. ao3

Eirlana breathed in, slowly and deeply. Salt and cedar scents permeated the damp air, heavy and welcome on her tongue. Woodsmoke and elfroot tingled her nose. Up from the sea rose the roar of breaking surf and the gentler sound of diffusing waves, tumbling over the stones. Gulls squawked and cawed. Wind gusted through the trees, rustling their soaked boughs and sending a pattering shower onto the tarp overhead. Movement swished the ferns.

She looked up from her notebook.

Beyond the burning incense, the dwindling campfire, and the shelter provided by the tarp, a hare paused at the clearing’s edge, caught sight of her, and froze.

She rolled her lips. Roasted meat would be a delight, especially for her companions less accustomed to the damp weather. Pulling on bellanar'an, she raised her hand.

The hare spun on its feet and bounded back into the underbrush.

“Fenedhis,” she huffed. Their supplies were not low, only uninspired — inadequately spiced jerky, oatmeal with dried apples, and a bitter tea — but fresh, hot food would help keep morale up.

At least the weather’s clearing, she thought. Only a light drizzle fell, as late-afternoon sunlight burned through the thinning clouds.

She glanced at the tents, also pitched beneath the massive tarp. Blackwall’s fondness for the sea likely didn’t extend to the rainy weather, and she doubted that either Sera or Solas had enjoyed being drenched. None of them had lingered long after making camp in the torrential rain; they’d changed into dry clothes, left their wet garb by the fire, and retreated inside.

Bundled in her bear-pelt cloak, Eirlana had remained by the fire, jotted down her observations of the rifts, and breathed deeply of the salty air of alalin’nu’an. Of home and yet not.

The tumbling waves and crying gulls, the fragrant cedars and pungent fish, the bracing chill of rain and interludes of sunlight — all of it was achingly familiar and achingly wrong without red sails bright against the trees, halla snorting and snuffling, and a myriad of voices speaking a Common-Elven blend. Without Tunehn. Without Ren, Arion, and Tanmi. She gripped her tools, nails catching on nicks in the stone. We won’t encounter anyone by chance; Isan has long since fled, she thought, then grimaced at her bitterness. Varadahlen keepers had kept their half-dozen camps secret from shemlen only by avoiding the towns of alalin’nu’an entirely, and retreating to the islands in times of turmoil. Her uncle would’ve fallen back months ago, as soon as news of the Inquisition reached him. She wouldn’t find any trace of Varadahlen, never mind happen to glimpse aravel tracks in the mud or red sails on the water. Only luck, or a lack thereof —

The Anchor throbbed, needlepoint-sharp. Grimacing, she squished her hand under her knee. The blighted thing was a rank mess of fish guts. No one knew who created it or for what purpose, or how it was connected to bellanar’an, or why it responded to her anxiety, or if its strain on her body would eventually kill her. And she had no choice but to use it. The Anchor was the only key to the rifts, and to the Breach. It was the only reason she was here, so close to Varadahlen. Whether or not she survived, she would never be closer.

The unbidden thought stuck with the force of a slap.

She jolted to her feet and strode out into the trees. Her legs shook. Her hand felt numb. Cedar boughs scratched her face as she stumbled forward, feet catching on roots and stones. The sea thundered. 

She slowed, suddenly seeing the cliff, and stepped carefully to the edge, feet sinking into the sodden earth. She stared at the sea, watching waves crash again and again over boulders, until noticing the chill creeping down her exposed neck.

Shivering, she clutched her cloak — a gift from her parents in celebration of her apprenticeship, eleven years ago. A nomadic Keeper, one of the few aravasi ghilan, had delivered it. She couldn’t remember their face, or her parents’ voices.

Thoughtless as breathing, she remembered how she felt when Deshanna named her First, three days after Lien bled to death. Her chest ached, heavy again with that stifling weight.

Jaw clenched, she brushed her tears away and walked back to camp.

Her companions still showed no signs of emerging; the tents stood silent, save for faint snoring.

Eirlana sighed, relieved. How to explain abruptly wandering off, much less returning with reddened eyes, she didn’t know. Not that anyone would have pried. She just didn’t want them to see.

Halfway back to the campfire, she paused, as the clouds shifted and sunlight swept across the trees. In the next, the wind scattered raindrops onto her upturned face.

I won’t be away more than an hour, she thought, kneeling to douse the fire and scribble a note on a scrap of parchment.

Staff in hand, she followed an animal trail into the woods — into grey-green shadows nestled in quiet. The narrow path curved downhill, overrun by temporary streams. Raindrops dripped off leaves and landed with soft taps on the ferns beneath. High in the trees, ravens croaked.

She walked out onto a wash of dark sand littered with driftwood and gulls hunting for shellfish in the golden light. Looming cedars curved around the small beach. Far out over the water, another front of storm clouds gathered, veined with lightning. A warm feeling rose in her chest.

The Anchor twinged, as if reminding her. As if she could forget that she’d bound herself to the Inquisition voluntarily, despite her instinct to run, despite the humans who whispered and glared at her back. As if she could forget that she was the only person capable of sealing the rifts that threatened tens of thousands of people. As if she would forget the refugees, huddling behind overturned carts or bleeding out in ditches.

As if she would ever forget her duties or vows as a First, or as a healer.

A foolish child’s dream, she thought, as another bolt illuminated the clouds. I know. I’ve known for years. She’d grown up with stories of mages who shaped nature to their wills, harnessing storms or creating their own to protect their people. Ren had told her those stories, especially after her magic manifested so violently she’d destroyed a tree. As they collected firewood or mushrooms, he’d tell her of a clan elf who used a sandstorm to bury darkspawn, or a city elf who sealed off their alienage with snow, while young mages snuck out of the city and away from templars. He’d grin, whispering, “Don’t repeat those to Isan.”

His voice, like their parents’, was lost to memory.

She breathed in, held, and breathed out.

Watching the faraway storm darken and a veil of rain fall, she plucked seaweed off boulders revealed by low tide. Spiced and roasted, the plants would be tastier than any of their other provisions. Her companions might decline — Sera and Solas both disliked Dalish customs, albeit for different reasons, and she didn’t know Blackwall’s preferences — but it was the best she could do. With her water-proof pouch filled, she started back to camp in the failing light.

alalin’nu’an: place where the sea crashes (aka the Storm Coast)

bellanar’an: place of eternity (it's bothered me for AGES that the Dalish supposedly have a different name for the Fade, buuuut it's not actually an Elven word)

[aritazuihitsu]

Day 83: Sunday August 24–Kanjiro & Kabuki

A relaxing day in Kyoto was spent by walking in the former Red Light District and a visit to the huge Toyokuni Shrine. 

Toyokuni Shrine

After this, I payed a visit to the Kawai Kanjiro Museum, a small museum housed in the residence of the potter of the same name. Kawai Kanjiro (1890-1966) was a Japanese potter known for his folk art studio pottery. He was also active as a fine artist, calligrapher, sculptor, writer and philosopher. I had never heard of this potter, nor seen his work, but I was quite impressed with his somewhat Schlemmer-esque, geometrically infected renditions of traditional Noh masks. Interestingly, Kanjiro refused all official honours, including the designation of Living National Treasure, and never signed his work...

The Kawai Kanjiro Museum

In the afternoon we went to see a kabuki performance by young actors at the National Bunroku Theatre in Osaka. In contrast to my previous kabuki experience, the main act of this play was quite heavy on the dialogue, which made it hard to understand. Not being able to catch subtle nuances (or most of the story for that matter), the visual spectacle hit hard though.

The kabuki has so many interesting visual features to offer: as with my first visit to the theatre, I was again in awe with the splendid costumes, striking make up and beautiful backdrops. We had great seats this time, very close to the stage and to the bridge that extends from the main stage through the audience, on which actors enter or sometimes leave the scene.

The scenery is of course heavily stylized, showing an abstracted version of reality that seems to exist in its own vacuum-sealed world. This geometric backdrop is completely in line with the exaggerated gestures, unnatural speech patterns and dramatic poses - a language of escalated broad strokes that is carried out so completely, it actually succeeds at making you suspend disbelief. The stage is so well lit, that it resembles a diorama made up of paper cut-out characters. An effective and "hyper real" piece of world building. 

After the show, we went for quick tour of Nipponbashi, the "Otaku" (aka manga/anime nerd) neighbourhood of Osaka. We had dinner at a Kyushu(!) themed "tapas" style restaurant. The many little dishes (which included pigs tongue and sardine jerky) were all delicious!

Pigs tongue

Sardine and sesame jerky

[carolofthebell]

And here we have Zuko, modeling the first design in our new Back-To-the-School-of-hard-knocks Line.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 72)

The dining hall of Manor Schnee had been temporarily turned into a combination situation room/planning area/mess hall for the space and the slapdash nature of their operations.

Among other Queensguard, Agent Gumshoe waited there, pulling out a Fizzle Stick from her breast pocket, putting it into her mouth, and lighting it with her antique Zippo. The tip of the candy started to crackle, the sugar inside it melting and pouring out the other side, and she began to chew.

“They say we were all lucky that we came when we did, guns blazing and putting all kinds of holes in the plans of the Heralds and whoever the hell the ‘Council’ are,” she said. “Poor bastards don’t realize we Queensguard didn’t have the winning numbers on our tickets, and probably never will.”

Used to it, and with their own eccentric quirks beside, none of the other agents commented.

“It’s a hard life, being a Queensguard.

“You got your personal issues, your awful pasts, and your honest desire to make a difference in this world and help people out by putting holes in others, wondering if you’re a fuckin’ hero who deserves a parade, or just a gun with two legs someone else is throwing into the fray for them.

“Then you join the program, and everything goes to even deeper shit.

“Physical training that’ll make the Old World’s Marine Corps weep. School, the kind of eyebrow burning usually done by people lookin’ to tack some fancy letters to their name, have people callin’ em Dr. Whoever-The-Fuck. And don’t get me started on the third part of our training…

“Psychological Conditioning’ they call it, if only because ‘Mental Torture’ doesn’t sound as nice.

“They build us up, then seni through straight through hell and back, then send us back for however many go-arounds it takes before we break. Then they pick the pieces up, glue ‘em all back together best as they can, rinse and repeat, until they either wash out, or they come out the other side one certified Badass Motherfucker who can take on goddamn anything.

“You can’t do something like that without leaving plenty of scars, though, some of them more obvious than others.

“Take Agent Qi, here. Fuckin’ obsessed with the number 7, and his fancy revolver.”

“Seven is life,” Agent Qi said. “Six bullets, one barrel—seven.”

“Won’t say no to a mission that doesn’t have anything—and I mean anything—about it that is or adds up to seven, be it the time the shit’s going down, the letters in the name, or even the coordinates on the map.

“But if it does, you can be sure as shit he’s going to coast through all that with a smile on his face, like he’s the luckiest man in all the realm.”

“Then there’s Agent Gwendolyn, AKA ‘The Knight.’

“Lost her whole team in a mission where she was shadowing all the other functioning nutcases we call ‘Queensguard Agents.’ Almost died along with them—had actually, for a few seconds before her suit’s revival protocols kicked in and zapped her brain back to life, but either something went wrong in the process, or it was that particular moment that she cracked like the rest of us Rank 7’s did, got it in her head that the only way she was going to get through this and more if Gwendolyn died, and was reborn as someone better.

“So now she goes around narrating everything like me, except she calls herself ‘The Knight.’”

Everyone stopped as a new agent walked in, carrying a tray of food in her still armoured hands.

“Hello everyone,” Winter said.

Gumshoe pulled out the free seat next to her.

“Thank you,” Winter said as she sat down, and began to eat.

“You’re welcome, doll. If’n you don’t mind, I’m gonna continue my whole shtick with you.”

“Go on ahead, Gummy, it’s not like it isn’t all over the Info-Grid,” Winter replied.

“Thanks, doll.” Gumshoe replied. She chewed what remained of her fizzle stick for a few moments, then continued.

“And then there’s Winter.

“You’d think the name was her call sign, seeing as she’s got a reputation for keeping her cool through everything; melting her walls and becoming the warmest damn person you’d ever met in your entire life if it’d serve her mission well to butter you up before she cut straight to your heart like a hot knife; and being more than a little bit of a bitch, but no:

“That’s what her grandma named her, like she could see in the future and decided to save a future lover the trouble of nicknaming her their own version of ‘Frosty the Snowbitch.’

“So what’s wrong with someone who sounds like the mythical Queensguard Agent that makes it through training completely intact? Even someone who looks about as well-put together as can be like Ironwood has got his issues.

“Five words: The Keeper of the Grove.”

Winter choked on her food. Gumshoe picked up her drink for her, she took a long swig then sighed in relief.

“You need me to stop, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine...” Winter whispered.

“If you say so. Anyway...

“As Fear is a pretty helpful emotion for getting your ass in gear when you need it to, she didn’t beat it out of her so much as she made it so that she was scared of as few things as possible. Maybe she might get startled or uneasy, but never shitting-your-pants terror.

“It had seemed like a good idea at the time: she was already pretty well and tramautized from a horror show way back when she was still a sweet and innocent kid, and what would be the problem with being scared exclusively by someone that only existed in myth, pop culture, and really bad costumes on Eve of the Ether?

“When it turns out they live in Reality too, that’s what!

“As the Keeper was terrorizing her and her little sis in this very mansion, us crazies in the Queensguard thought Winter had finally broken for good, that this time, there would be no picking the pieces back up and gluing them back together. All we thought we were doing when we hauled her conked-out ass back to base was fix her as much as possible before we set her up for a nice, quiet civilian life with a hefty pension and a whole lotta perks beside.

“Then we all watched the Keeper 86 her sister on live holovision, and it turned out that the only thing in little tiny pieces that couldn’t be put back together was what we thought was reality.

“Nothing new, really, considering all the other crazy shit that happens in Avalon that necessitates an even crazier bunch of loons willing to protect it—AKA the Queensguard—but it still caught us all off guard.

“By the time we realized our big mistake, her sister was dead, the rest of her whole family was in the ground or may as well have been, and since she only ever kept working for us to keep her sister safe, she had pretty much lost everything she ever gave a fuck about.

“And what do you do with someone with nothing to lose?

“Give them everything to gain—namely, the Shepherd Suit Mk. IV, the latest in the line.

“First, Piper’s gearheads strapped guns and sturdy pieces of scrap metal to exo-suits originally made for hauling boxes around, then we started slapping armour and weapons designed specifically for getting shot and shooting right back, and then we shrank it down so you if you wanted to enter a building, you’d only have to duck to avoid banging your head, than break down the door and take a good chunk of the wall while you were at it.

“So where do we go from there?

“You make it smaller, faster, and strap some wings and the very cutting edge in energy-weapons to it, is what you do.

“There’s only three things that are keeping the Big Guys Upstairs from equipping every single trooper with these:

“One, it’s expensive as hell to mine, refine, and use this much Exanite and a shit-ton of other super-rare metals that all the armour, the weaponry, and the wiring needs.

“Two, it eats up power like a bus full of relapsed alcoholics at last call for Happy Hour, which is why it’s a damn good thing it can take out entire armies in the blink of an eye.

“And three, once you put it on, you can’t ever take it off—unlike its older siblings, the spine-jack on this thing becomes part of your actual spine.

“We thought we were just making the best of a very bad situation like usual, squeezing out some more use out of someone we thought we were going to have to put out to pasture, and who didn’t want to go there yet, either.

“But it turns out, the timing couldn’t have been better, because now the little sister turns out to be a whole lot less dead than we thought, we’ve got a messiah gone missing and possibly rogue, and a whole bunch of loonies with alien magitech and animal ears running about the whole realm causing hell and talking about something they call ‘The Truth.’

“You could be blind, and still read all the signs pointing to the one place that has the answers to all the latest mysteries Avalon is throwing at us:

“The Viridian Valley.

“So how many of us loons are going with you out there, soon as it gets dark and we don’t get turned to people-jerky soon as we step out the barrier?” Gumshoe asked.

“None,” Winter replied. “I’m going in with two Tinmen, and that’s mostly for recharging my core.”

Surprise came over all the agents faces.

“Seriously, doll?” Gumshoe asked.

“Yes, seriously,” Winter replied, her serious expression the most serious the others had ever seen.

“Sure you won’t end up putting your waste-management subsystems on overdrive when you eyeball her?” Gumshoe continued.

“I’m sure,” Winter replied. “I may have been absolutely terrified of the Keeper for almost all my life, but that ends now, because the face of my nightmares has kidnapped my little sister, brainwashed her, and seduced her.”

She raised her fists to the sky and started screaming.

“DO YOU HEAR ME, KEEPER?!

“YOU SEALED YOUR FATE WHEN YOU ‘KILLED’ MY LITTLE SISTER ON LIVE HOLIVISION, AND I’M ONLY MORE DETERMINED TO UTTERLY ANNIHILATE YOU NOW THAT YOU’VE KISSED HER ON LIVE HOLOVISION, TOO!

“I’M SCORCHING YOU WITH MY LASERS LIKE BOTH THOSE SCENES WERE SCORCHED INTO MY BRAIN—ESPECIALLY THE SECOND ONE!

“SERIOUSLY! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

Winter sighed and got up from her seat. “Excuse me, everyone, I need to go get some last-minute repairs and upgrades before my big mission...”

“You do that!” Gumshoe yelled, as she and all the other agents were gathered up at the furthest corner away from Winter as possible, holding up their guns and projecting shields.

Winter left the dining hall, the agents slowly returned to their seats.

“Turns out there’s a fourth downside to the Mk. IV!” Gumshoe muttered as she chewed the last of her fizzle stick, pulled out a new one with shaking hands. “If it turns out the person you put it in is STILL pretty batshit insane, getting them out of the suit is going to be a LOT harder than putting them in…

“Like I said: we thought it was a good idea at the time...”

[themanuelruello]

My Favorite Ways to Preserve Food at Home

Here it comes…

The cucumbers, beets, and tomatoes are rolling in, with the potatoes, onions, corn, and squash not far behind.

I have a love/hate relationship with this time of year.

I love it because it’s the pinnacle of what we’ve been working towards since early spring (HARVEST!), but holy moly… it can be overwhelming sometimes.

More than ever before, I feel like now is the time to have full pantries, cupboards, and larders to prepare for the upcoming winter. There are a lot of ways to preserve food, but I wanted to dive into my favorite preservation methods today.

How Do You Preserve Your Harvest?

I get that question a lot and there isn’t really an easy answer…

I use a variety of preservation methods, canning, freezing, dehydrating, and fermenting are definitely the ones I rely on the most. I also store food in the unfinished portion of my basement cellar, which sort of mimics a root cellar (check out these tips for other root cellar alternatives).

So if you’re wondering if you should freeze, dry, can, or ferment your harvest, we are going to be going through the pros and cons of each in this post.

(1): Canning Food for Preservation

I have been drawn to canning since the beginning of my homesteading adventures. It reminds me of grandmas and old-time homesteaders canning foods for the winter and it’s the perfect symbol of an old-fashioned life that I love so very much.

However, I didn’t grow up in a family of expert canners. My mom occasionally canned food when I was younger, but since it didn’t involve horses, I didn’t care to pay attention. Go figure.

Therefore, when I learned how to can as an adult, I had to start from ground zero. But the good news? Even if you haven’t had someone personally show you the canning ropes, it’s entirely possible to learn on your own.

The Resource I Wish I Had When I Started

If you are a canning newbie, I just revamped my Canning Made Easy course and it’s ready for YOU! I’ll walk you through each step of the process (safety is my #1 priority!), so you can finally learn to can confidently, without the stress. CLICK HERE to have a look at the course and ALL the bonuses that come with it.

This is the information I wish I had when I first started canning– all of the recipes and safety information are double and triple-checked against tested and proved canning recipes and recommendations.

It’s the next best thing to you coming over to my house and canning right along with me. (Which would be a blast, wouldn’t it?!)

Canning Food Pros:

The number one reason that I love canning is because it’s so versatile. I love how shelf-stable it is and that no fridge or freezer space is required (which is hard to come by in our house).

I also love canning because it is actually preserves the nutrients in the food surprisingly well, which surprised me when I initially researched this topic for my canning course about nutrient loss.

For a long time, I assumed that canning destroyed all the nutrients in food. So I was pleasantly surprised to learn that while there is some nutrient loss at the beginning, the nutrient loss slows down due to the sealed jar and storing it in a dark, cool place.

In contrast, food that is frozen might retain more nutrients at first, but it quickly degrades and loses nutrients faster than with canning (source).

Canning Food Cons:

One of the biggest downfalls is that canning heats up your kitchen. And if you’re canning in the summer (and especially in an non-air-conditioned home), it’s gonna get even hotter. However, you can work around this issue by either canning in the evening or canning outside.

Another negative to canning is that canned food is not easily transportable. Filled glass jars are heavy and take up considerable space on a shelf. You’ll need some sort of dedicated pantry space to store your home-canned food. shelves.

Finally, canning can be messy and take some time in the kitchen. Fortunately, you can get around that a bit by prepping your space beforehand with your canning equipment (check out my no-stress canning tips for more ideas) and inviting friends to help with larger canning projects.

Canning Preserving Method: Final Thoughts

I personally love canning and it’s probably my favorite way to preserve food for our homestead. As long as you follow safe recipes to avoid botulism issues, canning is extremely rewarding There’s nothing like pulling a can of honey cinnamon peaches from the basement shelf and serving it in the dead of winter.

There’s a surge in canning interest at the moment, which is fabulous but also frustrating if you’re trying to hunt down jars or lids. Try to find used jars in thrift stores or online marketplaces (although you still need to buy new lids).

Check out these articles for more of my canning tips:

Best Resources for Safe Canning

How to Start Canning with Zero Special Equipment

The Ultimate Guide to Canning Safety

How to Can Tomatoes Safely at Home

How to Use a Pressure Canner

(2): Freezing Food for Preservation

Freezing is a popular way to preserve foods, which makes sense because most people have at least a small freezer attached to their refrigerator. We have 3-4 large freezers, but they are usually packed-full of our homegrown meats, so I personally don’t like using my precious freezer space for many fruits and vegetables (but I still do freeze some of them).

Freezing Food Pros:

Freezing is preferable to many folks because it’s very simple and many people enjoy the texture of frozen foods over canned foods. For example, I prefer the texture of frozen green beans over canned green beans. You might feel differently, but most people have texture preferences for particular foods whether they are canned or frozen.

People also like freezing food since it’s often slightly less labor-intensive than canning and requires less fuss. Oftentimes you can just chop up the produce, stick it in a bag or freeze-safe container, and you’re ready to roll.

Freezing Food Cons:

It might be easy to freeze most food, but some foods still need to be blanched before freezing in order to freeze well. Blanching is a technique that quickly immerses fresh foods in hot water or oil (usually followed by some sort of ice water bath).

The purpose of blanching is to slow down nutrient loss and maintain brighter colors. It’s not done for safety, but rather for texture and color.

Personally? Blanching annoys me and I avoid it whenever possible. It often feels monotonous and fussy… even though I know it does serve a purpose.

Another downfall of freezing is that you will see a decent amount of nutrient loss long-term. Eat frozen foods within 6 months to a year to avoid too much nutrient loss, which will be more substantial that long-term nutrient loss with canned foods.

That other downside is the the freezer space. This is a big one for me because we stuff our freezers with our homegrown meat and just don’t have the space for frozen produce as well.

Finally, a major negative to freezing fruits and vegetables is that you are vulnerable to power outages. If you live in the middle of nowhere and/or deal with plenty of power outages, then freezing a lot of your food for preservation might not be for you. Consider getting a generator if you are worried about losing your food when you lose power.

Freezing Preserving Method: Final Thoughts

I mainly use my freezers for meat, but there are still a few other fruits and vegetables that I make space for in the freezer due to texture preferences or because it’s just so darn easy.

Here is a list of my favorite foods to freeze:

How to Freeze Green Beans (our family favorite way to preserve beans for the winter)

How to Freeze Tomatoes (when my tomatoes are trickling in and I’m saving them for canning tomato sauce, I freeze them for a while)

Freezing Peach Pie Filling (I like to freeze pie fillings because you can use whatever thickeners you have on hand)

Strawberry Freezer Jam (Sometimes I prefer to make freezer jams instead of canning them, it depends on my mood)

Preserving Herbs in Oil (the perfect way to preserve the fresh taste and vibrant green of herbs is by freezing them with this method)

(3): Dehydrating Preservation Method

Of all the food preservation methods, I have the least experience with dehydrating. Although I have the Excalibur, (aka the Cadillac of food dehydrators), I still find myself using other preservation methods more frequently.

Dehydrating Food Pros:

The biggest benefit to food dehydrating is that the results are lightweight and easy to store. This makes dehydrated foods excellent for space saving and you don’t need a fridge or freezer.

A dehydrator is also great for drying herbs for the winter. While some herbs are easy to dry by hanging them upside down for a few weeks in little bundles (which also looks cute and handy as decoration in a homestead kitchen), other herbs don’t dry well unless you use a dehydrator. Personally, I think basil and sage dry better with a dehydrator than with the upside-down method.

Dehydrating Food Cons:

The biggest negative to dehydrating food is that many dried foods have the most nutrient loss of all the preserving methods (source).

Another negative is that it uses a lot of energy to dehydrate foods. If you’re trying to keep your electric bill low, dehydrating might not be a good choice for you, as it often takes 10-12 hours to completely dehydrate a food for storage.

Dehydrating Preserving Method: Final Thoughts

Honestly, many of my home-dried foods have been met with mixed reviews… I wasn’t impressed with my dried green peppers (they were so shriveled and tough they were impossible to use and I just fed them to the chickens). And try as I might, I just didn’t like the dried green beans that everyone raves about either.

That being said, I do LOVE my dehydrater for making homemade jerky. I also use it to make a version of “sun-dried” tomatoes (here’s my recipe for drying tomatoes), which my kids beg for. I also make fruit leather and dried bananas,  and, of course, I dry some herbs for the winter.

All in all, I do think dehydrating is a handy homestead preservation method, once you get in your groove.

(4): Fermenting Food for Preservation

And last but not least? Fermenting (lacto-fermentation). This is the way our ancestors preserved food before refrigeration and it was used long before canning was ever even considered.

Fermenting Food Pros:

The great thing about fermentation is that it is very safe, which comes as a surprise to many folks. After people hear me go on one of my botulism rants, they assume that leaving a jar of cabbage out on your counter for 10 days surely must be unwise, but the opposite is true: the salt and natural acids produced in the fermentation process make it incredibly safe.

It’s also super good for you, especially when it comes to your gut. There are many health experts that recommend that you eat some sort of fermented food every day, as it gives you a natural probiotic boost.

Fermentation is also awesome because you don’t need special equipment. Fermenting crocks or air lids are handy, but you can absolutely ferment without them if you’re just starting out. All you need is a mason jar, a lid, and something to weigh the food down. It’s super affordable, super safe, and super  healthy.

Fermenting Food Cons:

A downside to fermentation is that it can be an acquired taste for some people. Fermented foods do have a tang to them, but my best advice? Don’t give up after the first taste. It can take a while to educate our taste buds around new flavors.

The best part about fermenting your own food is that you have absolute control over the sourness and flavor of the finished foods. Therefore, if you’ve tried store-bought ferments and didn’t like them, odds are you’ll have a different opinion about a ferment you created and controlled yourself. The difference can be considerable. For example, I don’t care for ultra-sour sauerkraut, so I simply ferment it for a shorter amount of time, and I prefer that taste much better.

Another consideration is that even though the food starts out on your counter, eventually, it will need to be transferred to cold storage at some point or it will keep fermenting and become extremely sour. Our ancestors used cold root cellars or larders to cool down and slow the fermenting process. You can use that type of cool room if you have it, or you just use your fridge.

Fermenting Preserving Method: Final Thoughts

I started out with my first fermenting adventure with sauerkraut many years ago, and I’ve been fascinated with it ever since. Every year, I like to try new fermenting recipes and I’ve fallen in love with my old-fashioned fermenting crock (read more about fermenting with crocks here).

Here is a list of my favorite fermenting recipes:

How to Make Sauerkraut (I think we’ll always have a jar of fermenting sauerkraut in the kitchen, it’s SO good!)

Fermented Pickles Recipe (when I don’t have enough pickles for canning, I love fermenting them)

Fermented Ketchup Recipe (SOOOO much better than the corn syrup junk from the store)

How to Make Milk Kefir (The best part about kefir is that you can use it as a cheesemaking culture)

Making Kombucha (I almost always have some kombucha brewing in the kitchen for a tasty alternative to soda)

My Final Thoughts on Preserving Food

The sky’s the limit when it comes to ways to preserve food, and preserving the harvest doesn’t have to be complicated.

And remember– even if you are just squirreling away a jar or two of food at a time, you’re still making progress. Preserving food doesn’t have to be an epic event every time, and the little efforts add up. Keep up the good work, friend.

More Heritage Kitchen Tips:

My Canning Made Easy course will teach you how to start canning today, even if you are a newbie

My Heritage Cooking Crash Course teaches you how to make from-scratch foods in the kitchen and enjoy it

Learn history and cooking tips for Cooking with Salt

Learn about Wheat Berries and Grinding Your Own Flour

The post My Favorite Ways to Preserve Food at Home appeared first on The Prairie Homestead.

from Gardening https://www.theprairiehomestead.com/2020/08/ways-to-preserve-food-at-home.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[muffinlance]

Hi Muffin! I rlly want to write, & love writing character interactions, but whenever I go "ok brain, it's time to come up with a Plot" my brain is like "I can offer u a vibe, mayhaps a character arc you'd like to see, but No Specifics! Only vibe" :// I rlly admire your Powers of Plot; do you have any advice or tips on How To Make The Plot Exist? If you've already answered something like this/don't want to, I'm so sorry, just take my well-wishes & dw abt it 😅 Sending good vibes your way!!

Okay, so! A good character arc can be a plot. I'll focus on that type of story, since it seems like your style already leans that way.

I'll be using Salvage as an example, 'cause that's my most character-arc-focused story. The plot is unashamedly "Hakoda adopts one (1) prickly Fire Prince". People know exactly what's gonna happen going in, but I'm still getting compliments on the "complex plot". No. No, the plot is not complex, the plot is dead simple. Let us examine how I window dressed it so it feels complex.

Multiple Simultaneous (But Out of Sync) Character Arcs: Everyone on that crew is going to adopt Zuko, and Zuko is going to kick and scream and be adopted. These are givens, no particular tension there. Generally when you're running a character arc focused story, the reader already knows the outcome; the trick to keeping them engaged is the timing. By having the crew accept Zuko at different times and after different triggers (Kustaa is pretty much on board as soon as this half-dead teen starts grumping at his "Uncle", Toklo falls in love at first warm bath, Bato through burn bonding, etc), it feels like I'm doing a plot. Hakoda and Zuko themselves are saved for last, because that's what people most want to see.

Have you ever read a fic where the writer gets to the "good part" too early? AKA, the thing you really wanted to happen finishes in like, chapter two, and you're sitting there with a vaguely unfulfilled feeling because it was too easy? That's what you want to avoid.

On the other extreme, there's the "we're 40 chapters in and it doesn't make sense that they still hate each other" fics.

Whatever your key character arc is, make sure you're only drawing it out as long as it makes sense. And don't be afraid to sprinkle sweet sweet breadcrumbs of progress. In my story, that would be Hakoda realizing more and more that he is dealing with an Actual Child and adjusting accordingly.

EX: At the start of the story he almost guts Zuko for accidentally bending; by the time Bato comes aboard, he's ready to talk the kid down from a just-burned-someone panic attack. I maintain tension not with Hakoda unrealistically clinging to his assumptions about this kid, but by having him and Zuko out of sync--Hakoda trusts Zuko not to intentionally hurt his crew. Zuko does not trust Hakoda not to hurt him. Note that Zuko himself is also progressing, though--his actions show he's much more relaxed around the crew, and is starting to trust that when Hakoda says things he won't just change them.

Which is exactly the problem in the Bato chapter: Zuko trusts Hakoda to follow through on his word. Meanwhile, Hakoda made that "firebend and I kill you" rule back before he knew Zuko. Natural tension! Natural tension based in character growth!

External Driving Events (positive AND negative): Character arcs are internal affairs; external events help prod them along. Think to yourself what events--positive and negative--will help push things in the right direction. You want to roughly alternate these, as a general rule, though they can be weighted differently in the narrative.

EX: in the early chapters, Zuko aggravated the crew A Lot over multiple consecutive instances. Then I did the laundry scene where there was relatively pleasant bonding and This Explains So Much. Narratively, there was about equal word count given to all the small aggravations as the laundry scene, so even though it was one positive event v many negative, it felt "in balance" to reader!brains.

Mind you that events don't need to be action-packed: "doing laundry" is not exactly a chase scene. But it was emotionally satisfying, which is what a character arc story needs.

Background Noise: The size of your story (short, novella, novel, series) will determine how much you want to play with this, but background noise is key for making a world and character interactions feel real/lived in. These are the little things like having a ship dog--Scuttles/Sokka/Seal Jerky is not plot necessary. But having him there fleshes out the personality of scenes in small but "this feels authentic" ways--like the crew teasing Hakoda by calling him "Sokka", and later the crew siding with Zuko on calling him "Seal Jerky" to tease Bato, the OG Dog Namer. Background noise, as a general rule, should not revolve around your main characters--its a natural consequence of the background characters also being people who are living their lives with their own realistic character dynamics.

TL;DR: have multiple character arcs that progress naturally. Keep them out of sync to maintain tension. Use external events to prod development forward; make sure to alternate positive and negative events. Show that the minor characters are also Real People by incorporating background noise.

Now go write something, 'cause that's the only way you'll ever actually figure this out.

[oldhauntsforgottenghosts]

Depression/Spoonie Self Care

I know there’s probably a bunch of similar-ish self-care posts out there, but what the hell. I’m making a thing. FWIW, most of this probably isn’t going to be hella healthy in the long run, but if it gets you through from day to day, it’d be worth it in the short term. 

1. Canned foods are a lifesaver, especially when it comes down to veggies and fruits, aka things that tend to go bad quickly before you may have a chance to eat them.

2. Dried foods such as dried fruit, trail mix, and jerky, or food that comes sealed in little pouches, such as certain types of tuna or chicken salads are also very helpful to ensure that you have a reasonably healthy intake that won’t go off too quickly. 

3. Canned or ‘instant’ soups, cup noodles, and ramen noodles are also very good for getting food into you in a pinch, as they take less than 5 minutes to prepare.

4. Try to keep prepackaged ‘snacks’ (trail mix, protein/granola bars, etc.) in the vicinity of your area if you know you can’t/won’t be getting off the couch/out of bed/etc. very much, if at all. 

5. Dry shampoo is a Very Good Friend if you can’t muster up the energy to actually wash your hair or shower.

6. Baby wipes and deodorant can take the place of a shower in a worst case scenario. 

7. Alternately, if you can’t get a shower, simply washing/wiping down with a soapy cloth and warm water can help. Focus on getting your face, pits, and genital region to minimize smells and icky feelings.

8. Colgate wisps are pretty damn good for when you can’t stand to brush your teeth. Keep a couple by your bedside area, no water needed. 

9. Swishing some mouthwash around can help with bad breath if you need to talk to someone face to face.

10. If you’re more functional, and go out during the day, keep baby wipes and/or makeup removal wipes by your bedside in case you can’t clean up/wash your face when you return home.

11. Cotton clothes tend to be more breathable than synthetic materials, which may be especially important if you sweat a lot and don’t change daily/multiple times a day.

12. Try to keep some juice or gatorade, or even some candy on hand in case you go too long without eating and your blood sugar takes a nose dive. It should be enough to ‘jump start’ you long enough to get actual food into your body.

13. If you’re capable of cleaning, the first thing you should do is change your sheets, or at minimum, your pillow cases off, to prevent germ buildup. 

14. If you can’t fully change your sheets, simply shaking them off and/or slapping another blanket or sheet on top can make a fairly large impact on your comfort levels.

15. Extension cables are your friends. If it’s safe to do so, you can use them so that you can plug in your laptop, phone, etc. to charge from your bed. 

16.  If you wear contact lenses, consider looking into the extended wear ones. If you can’t take them out every night, the moment you can, take them out and give them an extended soak. If you can replace them sooner than recommended, do so if you’ve been making a habit of sleeping in them. 

17. For those of you who self-harm or who have open or healing wounds, please make sure to monitor them carefully for signs of infection. If at all possible, clean the area and change your dressings at least once a day unless your doctor has advised otherwise.

18. If you still have to take care of things such as paying a bill, school work, responding to messages, etc., schedule e.g. 10 minutes to do so, and then allow yourself to rest, knowing that you’ve gotten what you needed to do out of the way for now. 

19. Bottled beverages or at least cups with lids are also your friends. If uncovered drinks are left sitting out for any length of time, they’re liable to grow fungus/mold, spill everywhere, smell bad, or even have critters get into them, which will cause you more issues. 

20. If you have long hair, put it into a bun or braid to minimize or even prevent tangles from forming. 

21. Keep comfortable clothes around for the times that you need to go out. Think soft and easy to get into and out of, such as maxi dresses, soft t shirts, and jogging pants. 

22. When you can do laundry, try to do the essentials first, so that if your energy runs out after  the first load or 2,  even if you’re wearing a dirty t-shirt, you’re at least wearing clean undies. 

22b - Alternatively, finances permitting, pick up an extra pack of undies. They don’t have to be cute or expensive, as long as they’re comfortable and fit you. These are your emergency underwear in case you can’t do laundry. 

23. Try to keep things you know you’ll need for self-care close to you, if it’s safe to do so, e.g. your medications, your phone, the cards/phone numbers of any doctors you may be seeing or a hotline for emergencies, tissues, your brush/comb, some snacks, something to drink, etc. 

24. If you have furry friends, please remember to take care of them during this time as well! 

25. If you have friends or family who are understanding of your illness and would be supportive, consider asking them to come over to help you with tasks you can’t complete on your own, or just to check in on you and see how you’re holding up. 

26. There are many decent apps out there to help you in case you can’t see a therapist, or it’ll be a long time until your next appointment. 7 cups of tea is both an app AND a website where you can chat anonymously with a trained listener FOR FREE, or where you can pay to facetime a therapist. 

27. Some pharmacies offer home delivery on your prescriptions for either free or a low fee. If getting out of your house is an issue, this may help you massively.

28. If you can’t afford your medications, consider asking your pharmacist or doctor if they can issue you the generic. Depending on your insurance, it may be the difference between paying $10 for a 30 day supply, and $100+ for the same amount of medication.

29. Electric blankets can be fucking amazing if you’re immobile in bed for long periods of time, just make sure that they’ve got safety features or a timer on them.

30.  If you can feel a crash in your mood coming, or feel things steadily getting worse, go into ‘disaster prep mode’. E.g. if you usually have a couple of days ‘warning’ before you’re almost non-functional, do as much as you can to minimize the repercussions of this WITHOUT pushing yourself too far and messing yourself up worse. E.g. this would be the time to let your professors or boss know you’re not feeling well/are ‘getting sick’ (if you can’t/don’t want to disclose a mental illness), time to make sure you’ve removed anything you may use to harm yourself (if applicable), time to alert friends and/or family who can help you, reach out to your therapist, psych, treatment team, etc. if you have one, do any ‘last minute’ chores such as pay your bills, do your laundry, finish your paper, etc. before the worst of it hits. 

[djgblogger-blog]

Artificial muscles give soft robots superpowers

http://bit.ly/2k8BT24

Origami-inspired artificial muscles are capable of lifting up to 1,000 times their own weight, simply by applying air or water pressure. Credit: Shuguang Li / Wyss Institute at Harvard University

By Lindsay Brownell

Soft robotics has made leaps and bounds over the last decade as researchers around the world have experimented with different materials and designs to allow once rigid, jerky machines to bend and flex in ways that mimic and can interact more naturally with living organisms. However, increased flexibility and dexterity has a trade-off of reduced strength, as softer materials are generally not as strong or resilient as inflexible ones, which limits their use.

Now, researchers at the Wyss Institute at Harvard University and MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL) have created origami-inspired artificial muscles that add strength to soft robots, allowing them to lift objects that are up to 1,000 times their own weight using only air or water pressure, giving much-needed strength to soft robots. The study is published this week in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS).

“We were very surprised by how strong the actuators [aka, “muscles”] were. We expected they’d have a higher maximum functional weight than ordinary soft robots, but we didn’t expect a thousand-fold increase. It’s like giving these robots superpowers,” says Daniela Rus, Ph.D., the Andrew and Erna Viterbi Professor of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science at MIT and one of the senior authors of the paper.

“Artificial muscle-like actuators are one of the most important grand challenges in all of engineering,” adds  Rob Wood, Ph.D., corresponding author of the paper and Founding Core Faculty member of the Wyss Institute, who is also the Charles River Professor of Engineering and Applied Sciences at Harvard’s John A. Paulson School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS). “Now that we have created actuators with properties similar to natural muscle, we can imagine building almost any robot for almost any task.”

Each artificial muscle consists of an inner “skeleton” that can be made of various materials, such as a metal coil or a sheet of plastic folded into a certain pattern, surrounded by air or fluid and sealed inside a plastic or textile bag that serves as the “skin.” A vacuum applied to the inside of the bag initiates the muscle’s movement by causing the skin to collapse onto the skeleton, creating tension that drives the motion. Incredibly, no other power source or human input is required to direct the muscle’s movement; it is determined entirely by the shape and composition of the skeleton.

“One of the key aspects of these muscles is that they’re programmable, in the sense that designing how the skeleton folds defines how the whole structure moves. You essentially get that motion for free, without the need for a control system,” says first author Shuguang Li, Ph.D., a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Wyss Institute and MIT CSAIL. This approach allows the muscles to be very compact and simple, and thus more appropriate for mobile or body-mounted systems that cannot accommodate large or heavy machinery.

Artificial muscle-like actuators are one of the most important grand challenges in all of engineering. Robert Wood

“When creating robots, one always has to ask, ‘Where is the intelligence – is it in the body, or in the brain?’” says Rus. “Incorporating intelligence into the body (via specific folding patterns, in the case of our actuators) has the potential to simplify the algorithms needed to direct the robot to achieve its goal. All these actuators have the same simple on/off switch, which their bodies then translate into a broad range of motions.”

The team constructed dozens of muscles using materials ranging from metal springs to packing foam to sheets of plastic, and experimented with different skeleton shapes to create muscles that can contract down to 10% of their original size, lift a delicate flower off the ground, and twist into a coil, all simply by sucking the air out of them.

The structural geometry of artificial muscle skeleton determines the muscle’s motion. Credit: Shuguang Li / Wyss Institute at Harvard University

Not only can the artificial muscles move in many ways, they do so with impressive resilience. They can generate about six times more force per unit area than mammalian skeletal muscle can, and are also incredibly lightweight; a 2.6-gram muscle can lift a 3-kilogram object, which is the equivalent of a mallard duck lifting a car. Additionally, a single muscle can be constructed within ten minutes using materials that cost less than $1, making them cheap and easy to test and iterate.

These muscles can be powered by a vacuum, a feature that makes them safer than most of the other artificial muscles currently being tested. “A lot of the applications of soft robots are human-centric, so of course it’s important to think about safety,” says Daniel Vogt, M.S., co-author of the paper and Research Engineer at the Wyss Institute. “Vacuum-based muscles have a lower risk of rupture, failure, and damage, and they don’t expand when they’re operating, so you can integrate them into closer-fitting robots on the human body.”

“In addition to their muscle-like properties, these soft actuators are highly scalable. We have built them at sizes ranging from a few millimeters up to a meter, and their performance holds up across the board,” Wood says. This feature means that the muscles can be used in numerous applications at multiple scales, such as miniature surgical devices, wearable robotic exoskeletons, transformable architecture, deep-sea manipulators for research or construction, and large deployable structures for space exploration.

The team was even able to construct the muscles out of the water-soluble polymer PVA, which opens the possibility of robots that can perform tasks in natural settings with minimal environmental impact, as well as ingestible robots that move to the proper place in the body and then dissolve to release a drug. “The possibilities really are limitless. But the very next thing I would like to build with these muscles is an elephant robot with a trunk that can manipulate the world in ways that are as flexible and powerful as you see in real elephants,” Rus says.

“The actuators developed through this collaboration between the Wood laboratory at Harvard and Rus group at MIT exemplify the Wyss’ approach of taking inspiration from nature without being limited by its conventions, which can result in systems that not only imitate nature, but surpass it,” says the Wyss Institute’s Founding Director Donald Ingber, M.D., Ph.D., who is also the Judah Folkman Professor of Vascular Biology at HMS and the Vascular Biology Program at Boston Children’s Hospital, as well as Professor of Bioengineering at SEAS.

This research was funded by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), the National Science Foundation (NSF), and the Wyss Institute for Biologically Inspired Engineering.

PUBLICATION – PNAS: Fluid-driven origami-inspired artificial muscles