#and the following stanza's have it the other way around

[cricketandbooks]

THE EYES — Dead Boy Detectives

Crystal Palace Surname Von Hoverkraft: angry, selfish, lonely, kind, lovable, and the bringer of justice for young girls.

THE BRAWN — Charles' Playlist THE HEART — Niko's Playlist THE BRAINS — Edwin's Playlist

This playlist follows Crystal's life both before and after joining the Dead Boy Detective Agency. I hope you enjoy!

Annotations about the songs in the playlist below the cut:

Tracks 1-5: Before

Track 1: The Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

This song is my interpretation of both how Crystal perceives herself, and more so how others perceive her before meeting Dave. She is brash, mean, hedonistic, and selfish. She is also charismatic, inviting, and has a way of making you feel like she truly sees you. She abuses her power over people but is so captivating that people don't always mind.

The song opens up with these lyrics:

"I watch the work of my kin, bold and boyful Toying somewhere between love and abuse Calling to join them, the wretched and joyful Shaking the wings of their terrible youths"

Crystal does not appear to have true friends before joining the Dead Boy Detectives, rather she has people she toys with, reveling in her youth, beauty and power.

"With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene"

Much like the verse before, Crystal had the ability to draw people in, before cutting them down with her tongue. She used her beauty and charisma to her advantage like codeine, taking away people's pain only to use it against them later. She is able to see what people want, and use that against them.

"Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet"

This stanza discusses more of what it's like to me close to Crystal, the kind of person who would make you "walk into traffic" but is able to get away with it. Her beauty is captivating, but it comes with a price: blood. It is a very visceral description of her manipulation of people.

Track 2: Primadonna by Marina and the Diamonds

While the last song discusses how it felt to know Crystal, this is more my interpretation how of Crystal perceived herself and how she chose to live her life.

"Primadonna girl, yeah All I ever wanted was the world I can't help that I need it all The primadonna life, the rise and fall You say that I'm kinda difficult But it's always someone else's fault Got you wrapped around my finger, babe You can count on me to misbehave"

This song also has a strong opener, laying out her greed, in both material items but also how she is greedy with people as well, having them "wrapped around her finger". She dodges responsibility for her actions using the same manipulation, and if that doesn't work she leaves. Whether it be other people's boyfriends or using information she gained from her powers to tell people hurtful things that make them reliant on her for truth, she uses her abilities to misbehave.

"Fill the void up with celluloid Take a picture, I'm with the boys Get what I want 'cause I ask for it Not because I'm really that deserving of it Living life like I'm in a play In the limelight, I want to stay I know I've got a big ego I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though"

This first line of the lyric begins to show the cracks in Crystal's armor. As egotistical as she is, without other people's attention, without feeling "special", she has no true purpose in life. Celluloid is a material that was used in film, a tool to be seen by others. But it is flammable, delicate, and flat, like Crystal at this time. She needed the limelight because without it, she felt small and unlovable. She may always get what she wants, but all of her wants are superficial and she doesn't have a higher purpose to work for.

Track 3: XS by Rina Sawayama

Building on the foundations of Primadonna, this song also explores Crystal's excessive and shallow view of the world and herself. However, this begins to dig further into how all of her "excess" makes her a smaller, more selfish person. This song also offers a possible explanation as what could have lead her down this path.

"Flex, when all that's left is immaterial And the price we paid is unbelievable And I'm taking in as much as I can hold Well, here are things you'll never know"

This verse lays bare the fragile foundation that Crystal lives in. She takes on so many negative and self destructive aspects on, stealing people's partners, maxing out credit cars, hurting people and driving herself further and further into isolation. The theme of selfishness making her smaller continues.

"Make me less, so I want more (more) Bought a zip coat at the mall Call me crazy, call me selfish Say I'm neither, would you believe her?"

The next stanza in the verse lays out her true reasons for acting as she does. Her parent's have made her feel small, neglecting her for their own power and status. As such, she doesn't feel as crazy or selfish for doing the same, as doing so makes her feel like her parents were right in their treatment of her. If they are wrong, then she has been made to feel small and unlovable for nothing.

Track 4: The Louvre by Lorde

The Louvre is my interpretation of Crystal's feelings when David comes into her life. They saw each other across the line and fell in love. At first, I picture them as a sort of "power couple" of toxic behavior. While both powerful in their own right, David is able to see through Crystal's fragile ego and manipulate her secret desire to be truly seen and loved. He gave her a reason to exist beyond her excessive lifestyle, their relationship becoming her higher purpose.

"I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush Drink up your movements, still I can't get enough I overthink your punctuation use Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do"

This lyric is emblematic of how I believe their relationship first started. Crystal thought she found someone who truly saw her for who she was, but really he was feeding her ego just enough to keep her constantly vying for his attention, causing her to overthink little things such as punctuation. Her image is important to her as well as to her family, and he manipulated that as well. She wanted him to believe she was this cool powerful medium, so she changed herself further for him. It is also interesting that instead of saying "it's not your fault" the lyric says says "it's not my fault". This could apply to Crystal in that she is constantly assures herself she is doing the right thing, and on the right path. She also insists that everything is her choice, so she doesn't have to admit that she is changing for him and he has more power over her than she knows is right.

"Our thing progresses I call and you come through Blow all my friendships To sit in hell with you But we're the greatest They'll hang us in the Louvre Down the back, but who cares—still the Louvre"

As their relationships progress Crystal becomes even more isolated than she already was. By the time of her possession, she had no one left to even notice she was missing. However, the cracks are showing in their relationship. They're simultaneously the "greatest" but not worthy of being front in center of the Louvre, rather staying hidden in the back. She's beginning to realize that this relationship isn't healthy, but continues anyway because he's all that she has left.

"Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind (but what about love?) Nothing wrong with it Supernatural Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting"

In this moment she decides she will let him possess her. She knows in the back of her mind it isn't right ("(But what about love?)") but she convinces herself immediately that it will work out for the best ("Nothing wrong with it"). She has no one left to stop her and she continues to fall. He says "just move in close to me...you'll feel it coasting." When talking to the boys about her possession, she states "he must have lied" about the nature of it. I imagine he framed it as a new and deeper form of intimacy, of being "closer", and a kind of freedom in the form of "coasting", leaving her with no responsibilities, guilt, or shame.

Track 5: Ptolomea by Ethel Cain

This song to me represents Crystal's possession, describing both David and Crystal's feelings during the event. Ptolomea is also the circle of hell those who betrayed friends and guests go, and David betrayed Crystal's trust.

"I followed you in and I was with you there I invited you in twice, I did You love blood too much But not like I do Not like I do"

This is David's perspective. He was able to lure her in, first inviting himself into her life as her boyfriend, and then inviting himself inside her body to posses her completely. He mentioned in the show asking her if she missed "enjoying that copper taste in your mouth when you cause someone a lot of pain". This could refer to the taste of blood, which can be metallic, referring to the metaphorical blood on her hands from her past. However he's saying as much as Crystal also reveled in violence and power, she was still no match for him.

"What fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me (show me your face) Please, don't look at me I can see it in your eyes, he keeps looking at me Tell me, what have you done?"

Crystal always thought she wanted to be looked at. Admired and revered. But what she truly wanted was to be seen and loved. David only looked at her like a possession and a toy, and when that became clear Crystal finally understood that she did not want to be looked at anymore by people who don't understand her.

"I am the face Of love's rage I am the face Of love's rage"

Rage and love are two major themes of Chrystal's character, and untangling that becomes a key part of her arc over the season, turning rage into empowerment. However here she is left angry and small as David's "love" for her is actually the power he is able to use when he is in possession of her.

Tracks 6-11: Becoming

Track 6: Midnight Train by Gus Dapperton

It is on a train that Crystal meets the Dead Boy Detectives, and they change her life forever.

"On the midnight train Only love's in my way Picture-perfect world Crop me out of the frame And no, it's not to say Things will never change I'm afraid this time It'd take an act of fate"

Crystal is trapped inside herself, betrayed by the person she loved. While the world continues without her, arguably better without her in it, she is cropped out of her own life. She believes she has nothing and no one to save her.

"How could I trust myself? Runnin' right off of the rails How could I break the spell? Up this high, the ride prevails"

Having lived her life so fast, that fact that she was constantly assuring herself that she was right and in control was part of what got her in this situation. Finally able to see her life from the outside, she's beginning to see all of her mistakes.

"I can't slow up, I need you show up I can't slow the ride"

She can't stop what she has started, and for the first time in her life, she feels completely vulnerable and needing to ask for help. It comes.

Track 7: Lead Pipe by Movements

Finally free of his possession, Crystal can see David and her relationship accurately for the first time.

"And here we go, here we go, back to basics Another round of all the things I've heard before I'm staying low, staying low, turning pages I thought I killed you, now you're knocking at my door"

Having lost all her memories, she has truly gone "back to basics", however she remembers enough to realize all of David's old tricks to make her feel small. Even though she was exorcised, to her horror he still has her in his clutches.

"And I'm never gonna Give you what you want me to give You'll never play, won't let you play me again I know you'll try to cheat me if I let you in So I won't let you win"

She is able to assert herself now without the knowledge of who she was and how much she felt she needed him. Feeling only the sting and rage of betrayal, she can confidently say that she won't let him cheat her again.

"And here we go, here we go, down a dead-end road Another lesson in confession like I sold my soul I wanna know, wanna know how that story goes Cause if we're betting then I'm guessing that you're blowing smoke"

While her and David are a dead end, she is finally free to explore a new version of herself, and see how the story goes. However, he is still able to taunt her with "confessions" of her previous toxicity and the memories that made her who she was. This leaves her in a sort of limbo, as she moves forward to create a new version of herself while simultaneously leaving her trapped in the shadows of her past.

Track 8: Simmer by Hayley Williams

Anger is a major part of Crystal's character, and of the show in general. In Crystal's case, being with the Dead Boy Detectives allows Crystal to finally be able to channel her rage to a higher and more healthy purpose. Using anger to help deliver closure and justice, as well as protect those weaker than her rather than to lash out like she used to.

"there's so many ways to give in (Eyes closed) another way to make it to ten, oh How to draw the line between wrath and mercy? Gotta simmer, simmer, simmer, simmer, simmer down"

Crystal often gave in to anger, yelling and lashing out at those who were trying to help her. But she also learned how to use it to help other's in a similar position to her, such as Becky Aspen, who was at the mercy of a supernatural force much more powerful than herself. Allowing her rage to simmer was what created the opportunity to use her feelings as a finely honed blade, as opposed to a bludgeoning force.

"If I had seen my reflection As something more precious He would've never And if my child needed protection From a fucker like that man I'd sooner gut him ('cause nothing cuts like a mother)"

Crystal, despite putting on a brash and confident front, never truly valued herself and her life. If she had the self esteem that she gains from being apart of the Dead Boy Detectives, who love her and see her as valuable beyond being pretty and powerful, then she never would have allowed herself to be treated that way. She is able to, via solving cases, get justice for other women who were also treated poorly like she was.

Wrap yourself in petals Wrap yourself in petals (control, control) Wrap yourself in petals for armor (control, control) Petals for armor

Instead of wrapping herself in both her shallow, self obsessed lifestyle and abusive relationship as protection from how small and unlovable she feels, she is able to protect herself in another way. Her "petals" are the newfound vulnerability between her and her friends, as well as her higher purpose. These petals, instead of suffocating her, allow her to grow and change while making her stronger.

Track 9: Fools by Lauren Aquilina

This song represents my interpretation Crystal and Charles' relationship. It can be found on both playlists.

Those hardest to love need it most I watched our bodies turn to ghosts Such good friends, it has to end it always does That's the way life is Do we take that risk?

Both Charles and Crystal have aspects of themselves that are difficult to love: their anger, Charles' inability to express his pain, Crystal's selfishness. However, they have managed to become friends who care about each other. It is a risk to let people in, and both of them have been hurt in the past.

And so it all boils down to this We've got our aim but we might miss We are too fragile just to guess And I've been in this place before Fine as we are but we want more That's human nature at its best

They are both aware of their feelings, but their situation is too fragile and could lead to ruin. However, feelings are often not lead by logic, as Niko stated. Both of them say they are "fine as they are", Charles saying he is fine "as long as I got my best mate and a case to solve" while secretly hating being dead and having his future stolen from him. Crystal believes she is fine where she is without her memories and with David haunting her, but that is a lie. Both want more than their situation, but are held back.

"The two of us so out of place My feelings written on my face Got what I want but now I'm scared"

Being a human and a ghost makes relationships difficult. Crystal used to always get what she wants, but now for the first time she reflects on the consequences of her desires instead of following them blindly, showing her growth.

"What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools? And all we have we lose? And I don't want you to go but I want you so So tell me what Tell me what Tell me what we choose"

Crystal even asking this question demonstrates how she no longer thinks of just herself. Going from stealing other people's boyfriends to questioning if entering a relationship is good for the both of them is a sign of her beginning to develop a sense of awareness and compassion. This reflection leads her to stop their relationship and stay friends.

Track 10: Happy by Marina and the Diamonds

For the first time in her life, Chrystal finds herself surrounded by people she loves, and a greater purpose. This song is the reverse of Primadonna, mirroring how she used to take everything for herself, while feeling empty. But now, while she has lost everything, she is on the path of fulfillment that was not possible before.

"I found what I'd been looking for in myself Found a life worth living for someone else Never thought that I could be, I could be happy, happy"

Instead of living solely for herself, she is able to form relationships with different people and find community and peace. As opposed to before when she never considered forming real relationships with people, this is the beginning of a true happiness and not merely chasing the next high.

"So now you know, you know it all That I've been des-desperately alone I haven't found the one for me But I believe in divinity"

While she doesn't have her memories and freedom yet, she is hopeful for the future. Before she was alone and neglected, but now she has people who loves her for who she is.

"From the concrete to the coast I was looking for a holy ghost Like the land joining the sea Happiness it followed me"

Going from London to a Port Townsend, she found her holy ghost in the form of the Dead Boy Detective agency. By joining them, she is able to find joy for the first time. This happiness is what allows her to begin to make sacrifices for her friends, as she loves them and knows they have love her.

Track 11: Third Eye by Florence and the Machine

Now that she has the ability to truly self reflect, Crystal is able to begin the process of changing into a better healthier self. But more than that, she gains a community of ancestors who allow her to further come into her power.

Hey, look up! Don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light Caught in your own creation Look up, look up! It tore you open And oh, how much?

Crystal never allowed herself to feel and to be who she is, instead creating an image of herself for the others. Now that she has community, she can finally look up and truly see herself, tearing open to begin anew.

'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies And I can see it with my third eye And though my touch, it magnifies You pull away, you don't know why

Her ancestors see her and her emptiness, and through the powers past down by them she is able to see it too. Her ancestors allow her to see her mind and her powers in a new way, bringing her closer to people instead of using it to dominate. As such, instead of pulling away blindly and burying herself in admiration and material objects, she is able to see what she must do to change.

Hey, look up! You don't have to be a ghost here amongst the living You are flesh and blood And you deserve to be loved, and you deserve what you are given And oh, how much?

Challenging Crystal to see herself and the world in a new perspective, her ancestors push her to become a self actualized person. Even though she was still living, she was cutting herself off from truly feeling anything. After feeling unlovable all her life, she is finally able to truly accept other's love and protection, and to be able to give that love and protection in return.

'Cause your pain is a tribute The only thing you let hold you Wear it now like a mantle Always there to remind you

Instead of using her pain and loneliness as an excuse to go back to David and surrender to his desires, she takes the lessons she learns and becomes better and more powerful for it. Between her new friendships and her new community of family, this allows her to finally defeat David and step into a better and more secure self.

Tracks 12-16: Growing

Track 12: Bad Friend by Rina Sawayama

With her memories back, she is truly able to appreciate the horror that she was, and the full extent of her toxicity.

I'm so good at crashing in Making sparks and shit but then I'm a bad, I'm a bad, I'm a bad friend So don't ask me where I've been Been avoiding everything 'Cause I'm a bad, I'm a bad, I'm a bad friend I'm a bad friend, yeah

Crystal is able to recognize the effect she had on other people's lives, disrupting their relationships, ruining their sense of self. While she had many people around her, like a hurricane she swept through their lives and then moved on with destruction in her wake. She did not deal with the consequences of her actions on others, choosing instead to avoid confrontation where she would have to admit her wrongs.

Put your hands up if you're not good at this stuff Put your hands up if you're not good at this stuff (I'm a bad friend, oh, bad, I'm bad

Unlike before, she is willing to admit that she wasn't a good person to be around, and to admit her faults. Being able to admit this is part of what leads her to returning to London so that she can right the wrongs there and accept responsibility for who she was.

Track 13: Better Version of Me by Fiona Apple

Accepting responsibility for her actions and her past, Crystal is able to look towards her future using the bonds she has made to begin to change.

What should I do? I'm a frightened, fickle person Fighting, cryin', kickin', cursin' What should I do?

Crystal accepts that she was a small and selfish person who lashed out at others and caused great pain. Now she must ask herself who she will become after learning this, and if she is going to stay the path she started with the agency.

I don't want a home, I'd ruin that Home is where my habits have a habit Why give it a turn?

While she is returning "home" in the sense she is going back to where she was before changing, she is not going there to settle into her old ways. Instead, she's returning to complete her transformation and break the cycle of abuse from both parents and David.

I've got a plan, a demand and it just began, And if you're right, you'll agree Here's coming a better version of me

She is returning to London with a plan. As a person, Crystal is very determined and has the conviction to follow through her resolve. By confronting her past, she will be have the opportunity to grow to her full potential.

Track 14: You Owe Me Nothing in Return by Alanis Morissette

As Crystal says goodbye to her friends, she affirms her love for them without needing anything in return, demonstrating change from selfishness and an appreciation for her newfound community.

You can speak of anger and doubts Your fears and freak outs and I'll hold it You can share your so called shame filled accounts Of times in your life and I won't judge it (And there are no strings attached to it)

Charles felt able to talk to her about his anger and doubts and she was able to listen. She also listens to Niko's feelings of fears of disappointing her mother and her grief over her father's death. Being able to listen to others is a part of her growth, instead of yelling or using people as a vehicle to feed her ego. She now loves and cherishes her friends and is willing to support them when they need her.

You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have I give you thanks for receiving, it's my privilege And you owe me nothing in return

Her parents gave her all the material privileges that could be dreamed of, but never truly gave her love. Now she is able to appreciated the ultimate gift of someone's unconditional care, and she is finally able receive it and reflect it back to them.

Track 15: Rainbow by Kesha

This song represents the culmination of all of her growth and change throughout season one, as well as highlighting that she still has far to go.

"I used to live in the darkness Dress in black, act so heartless, but now I see that colors are everything Got kaleidoscopes in my hairdo Got back the stars in my eyes, too, yeah now I see the magic inside of me"

Where she used to be small, now she feels empowered to be who she is. Her friendships encourages her to see the light and color in life. The magic inside of her isn't just random power, but the love and wisdom of her ancestors. She is better in every way.

Yeah, maybe my head's fucked up But I'm falling right back in love with being alive Dreaming in light, light, lights This kitty cat lost her mind Been lookin' for a star-sent sign that I'll be alright Look to the skies

While she is horrified and ashamed of her past, she is able to look to the future instead of wallowing in her guilt. She is still capable of looking up and keeping her mind set on a higher purpose instead of reverting back to her shallow ways that weigh her down. While she is unsure of the future and her ability to fix her mistakes, she is still willing to try.

I found a rainbow, rainbow, baby Trust me, I know life is scary But just put those colors on, girl You gotta learn to let go, put the past behind you Trust me, I know, the ghosts will try to find you

As a survivor of abuse herself, Kesha is able to brilliantly discuss how even though life can be difficult and painful, there is still a purpose if you find courage and meaning. Crystal still has to be able to put the past behind her, but she has people willing to support and love her through this difficult process.

Track 17: The Foundations of Decay by My Chemical Romance

This song is found on all Charles', Crystal's, and Edwin's playlists. The final track, this song discusses where the characters will go after Niko's death, and reflecting on what they've all learned so far.

See the man who stands upon the hill He dreams of all the battles won But fate had left its scars upon his face With all the damage they had done

All of the characters have been hurt and traumatized by their past, and sometimes it is not so easily healed. Their scars also kept them from truly connecting and communicating with each other. Niko was the one who united them all with her firm believe in love and hope, as well as her ability to listen to their deepest fears.

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain Now, if your convictions were a passing phase May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay

All of the characters were rotting in their own ways before they met each other. Edwin with his denial of his feelings, not just romantically but also in all aspects of life that would lead him to feel warmth and vulnerability. Charles was rotting in a silent rage, unable to truly confront his death and all that he lost, alongside how his parents continued on happy without him while causing him so much suffering. Niko was trapped in her room unable to connect with others in the world not just due to her sprites, but through her unhealed grief and fear. Finally, Crystal was rotting away in her selfishness and inability to love and be loved. She was trapped inside her headspace because she refused to see herself, thus not recognizing her mental world as hers. This allowed David the opening to abuse and control her.

You must fix your heart And you must build an altar where it swells When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away And as you stumble through your last crusade Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays? And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations

I believe the thesis of the Dead Boy Detectives, as well as this song, is the lyric "you must fix your heart". By allowing your old self to rot, you are able to confront your trauma and begin to heal and grow again. As the characters continue to confront their decay, they will hopefully continue to become more self actualized and healed.

[kaizey]

I had a hypomanic episode at 3am and theorised an irish historical reading of Hoziers 'Foreigners God'

So while I listen to alot of variety while working, Hozier is a common part of my weekly background, and while I was researching for an article on wells in gaelic culture after going out and taking photos of local Sí mounds aswell, I feel like I got hit with the conspiracy theory beam that sent me into an epithany hyperfixation while listening to Foreigners God and how you can read it as a lament for the last millenia of irish history

The first verse talking about a romantacism of pre-christian, or specifically, pre-protestant plantation Ireland (before the Tudor conquest in 1536), given even early irish catholicism was by papl standards, basically pagan, as a wilder, more free place without the stigma enforced through religious and planter society ["She moved with shameless wonder. The perfect creature rarely seen"].

With the arrival of the english "liar brought the thunder", with the lie being able to maybe be read as the lie of "civilising us" ["Since some liar brought the thunder"]

In this, you could view the "She" as being an anthropomorphism of Éire, with the spirit of the people looking towards the author, either a singulr or collective representation of native irish, whos been continuously emptied out spiritually and culturally under colonialism, and now is filled with a growing hatred for not only the planters, but protestantism itself , even at personal cost ["But still my heart is heavy. With the hate of some other man's beliefs"]

The pre-chorus could be seen as a reinforcing of the scorn for the colonial planters, who especially in the 18th and 19th century, would have been mostly interacted with via the landlordism of wealthy protestant english aristocrats who maintained that their actions were justified in the name of "civilising" us, which would always hinge on violence ["Always a well dressed fraud. Who wouldn't spare the rod. Never for me"]

The second verse could be read as the most forward and lamenting, since it opens with the speaker rhetorically questiong their attempts at conforming to the heirarchy and imposed british way of life, and how often for the likes of peasant and working class irish, would mean performing the role of the simple, obediant but charming worker, to cling onto both employment and avoid potential backlash from the planter ["Wondering who I copy. Mustering some tender charm"].

The line returning to the state of Ireland and, assuming this vague time around the 1700's- early 1800's, our country had in essence been stripped of the majority of its natural and cultural resources, let alone any autonomy held by our people. And in that state of oppression, with minimal success in terms of organsed large scale revolution or uprising (e.g the 1798 uprising), Ireland could be read as having little hope of gaining freedom ["She feels no control of her body. She feels no safety in my arms"].

The last stanza of the verse could by far be the most emotional, especially for gaeilgeoirí, with the author lamenting his lack of language to express his pain for whats happened to the irish people. Explicitly, this could be read as being through the massive, systematic decline of Gaeilge. At the end of the 1700's, our population of ~5 million had estimated 3.5 million irish speakers. By 1851, following the famine, this had dropped to 1.5 million, and by 1900, only 600,000 remained on the island. This targeted attempt at cultural extermination had been going on for centuries, largely through the implimentation of Na Péindlíthe, or Penal Laws, specifically and extension of the staute of Kilkenny, which banned the use of irish when natives spoke to colonisers, and in 1851, banned any use of Gaeilge in areas under english rule. And any attempts to use or express our native language, music or culture was met with either legal, or often, violent rebuttal. All which you can read the author as expressing how with all that leaving them increasingly unable to truly express or show true love for the old Ireland that irish people and growing republicanism at the time wished to return to ["I've no language left to say it. But all I do is quake to her. Breaking if I try convey it. The broken love I make to her"]

It then just gets outright literal with the pre-chorus. English was and is not our language. The english cultural, historical and political weights placed on us were not ours. They were foreign words, and foreign ideals of a coloniser forced upon us ["All that I've been taught. And every word I've got. Is foreign to me"]

In no way saying is this valid or a well informed reading, but it was hard not to get sucked into the theorising and seeing serendipity betwen the sadness and loss in our history and the lyrics from one of our best musicians. Anyway. Hope if you enjoyed the mental ramblings if you got this far

[amrv-5]

once again i will be predictable and ask for a BJ song!!! :)

HELLO YES ALWAYS LOVE BEEJ! and I will go with Crosseyed and Painless - Talking Heads. SUCH a Beej song to me for a lot of reasons.

First, I think it reflects some of my favorite parts of his character arc -- a guy who shows up somewhere where the rules are different than anywhere he's been before, and in the process of acclimating discovers he's changing -- or maybe discovers something he always was ("Lost my shape / trying to act casual"). At the same time it's something completely out of his control, forced by circumstances he can't control or step away from long enough to get a perspective on what's happened ("Can't stop, I might end up in the hospital / Changing my shape, I feel like an accident"). That identity flowstate, the way Beej seems to uncover something real and deep and genuine (anger, among other traits) the longer he's at the 4077, even if it's a discovery he's not all that comfortable with, fits... and then, when he's trying to gather himself into the person he was, the guy who is going to fit right back into Mill Valley like nothing happened ("I'm ready to leave, I push the facts in front of me") we see him gather a basic set of self-identifiers, 'facts' that will help him, or so he hopes -- wife, kid, kid's birthday party, Mill Valley, misassigned civilian -- that nevertheless can't encapsulate the reality of who he is now, and how he's changed ("Facts lost, facts are never what they seem to be / Nothing there, no information left of any kind" + "Facts are simple and facts are straight / Facts are lazy and facts are late / Facts don't come with points of view / Facts don't do what I want them to / Facts just twist the truth around / Facts are living turned inside out / Facts are getting the best of them / Facts are nothing on the face of things" + "Facts are useful / useless in emergencies").

Plus I think it really gets to his repeated expressions of frustration (his line about whatever happened to following the rules, and having things turn out) with the failure of his life / self to live up to easy, cut and dry expectations ("There was a line, there was a formula"). And then there's that endless repetition of "I'm still waiting"... very Beej to me. He's waiting for a lot of things all the time, and nearly never gets them. Or when he gets them it's not according to the "formula"... if he takes the opportunity to ship home right away in GFA, he has to make the choice to leave Hawk in the hospital, a hard, necessary choice he can only allow himself to regret in retrospect, one he doesn't have all the information he needs to make -- just a blind decision. And still there's a whole stanza (I would argue) in this song that fits that dilemma basically perfectly:

The Island of Doubt, it's like the taste of medicine Working by hindsight, got the message from the oxygen Making a list, find the cost of opportunity Do it right, facts are useful/useless in emergencies

[daisychainsandbowties]

What was your writing process for the Alien fic? Did you start with "scene where Ava wants to leave, Bea wants her to stay" and backfill events from there? Something more chronological that you then reorganized? Some magical third option? I love your writing style and am deeply curious about it.

so my writing process for most things is kind of like if you built a cathedral by doing the roof first, then like half the belltower and then the pews and then the glossy flagstones and then the paintings on the walls, and then the walls. with Alien AU i wrote maybe 6k of it back when i posted a snippet in May, and i started by writing the line that remains the first line of the fic.

from there i wrote maybe most of the “present-moment” avatrice scenes in one afternoon, which of course are now scattered across the fic. what i tend to do (indulgently, perhaps) is allow myself to meander off into tangents and flashbacks pretty much whenever i want. i can write in a disciplined, linear way, but i find it dull. to me a narrative is like sticking your hand into a drawer and groping around, unearthing matchsticks, dust, old coins and maybe Peter Pan’s lost shadow. i just find that more enriching and i write to entertain myself, so 🥰🥰

i didn’t actually reorganise anything; what i did do was bulk out the chapter so that, like space expanding, that initial 6k avatrice scene ended up far-scattered across the fic, with other scenes dropped in between where i felt they wanted to go. but in terms of how the fic flows the parts i wrote all followed each other from the get-go. to me they naturally follow each other, speak to each other. i tend to scatter a bunch of threads as i write the story and then tangle them all together toward the end, moments speaking to each other across thousands of words. it doesn’t always work out, but when it does it's the best feeling.

i tend to bounce around in a given chapter when i’m writing as i encounter tricky sections or just lose interest in a particular scene for a while, so i let myself work on, say, the scene where Beatrice burns her hand and then immediately jump forward to the scene where Lilith goads Ava into hitting her. that stops me from stagnating just because a turn of phrase is evading me.

i actually wrote the last line in May, but it took me a while to accept that it was the last line. that was a fun lesson from me writing poetry; that sometimes a poem starts after the first stanza and sometimes it ends when you kind of want to keep wringing its neck for meaning, but you have to let it do that and trust that you've said enough to have said something, and let the poem open instead of trying to weld it shut. i feel like sometimes prose should do that too; not try to answer all the questions it raises, leave you a little bit aching for more.

on that note my writing style is very much inspired by how i write poetry. up until last november i’d stopped writing prose pretty much altogether, and i was a lot worse at it than i am now (writing upwards of 300k of gay fanfiction will do that to you apparently) but i still can’t shake the narrative instincts that i get from being video game spec'd for poetry exclusively. there’s a very good quote by Ocean Vuong about fragmentation & linguistics in poetry which i think is a bit of a reflection of how i approach prose:

“I think this manner of breaking towards meaning is how we often live. We don’t live cohesively; we live in fractals, we live in fragments. We don’t live in a plot point. I think poetry is mimetic of that status of being human. We text in utterances. We speak in bursts. We pick up conversations that occurred hours before. Our most meaningful discourse happens in pieces, in broken ways. Our most difficult conversations happen in these ways, like for queer folks, coming out to our parents. And when we apologize, it’s rarely in a complete sentence. For me, fragmentation in language is perhaps the most human moment of our speech. For poetry to be so comfortable with that, to be so capacious with how grammar peters out and how it needs to be resuscitated towards new modes I think is a mimetic of how we’ve always been living. I think there’s a certain honesty in the ability of poetry to consider breaking not as a flaw but as a strategy, a kind of technique.” (read the whole article here it’s really excellent)

i do find the sort of eggshell structure of Alien au – broken, but still recognisable as an egg – to be really satisfying and thematically rewarding, but oddly, as with a poem, i do tend to write it “technically” chronologically, but in fragments of itself sort of rearranged ahead of time. i think a lot about my fics before i write them (though because i am me i do this mostly without noticing that there's any thinking going on) so by the time i get to that point, sitting down and writing, i have largely unbeknownst to myself a very good idea of what i want to say.

[fallen-stellar]

After all, you're just a hysteric humanoid

Hysteric Humanoid by ALKALOID Song Analysis

Lyric Translation by Distorted Heart (@/ibitsunahaato)

Overview:

Break free from an empty shell of a life that you are taking where you are meeting excessive expectations. Living impassively and following the lies is as good as dead. Question your own limits and live the way your human heart wants to.

Note: This analysis is my interpretation of the song from the translated English lyrics with a bit of digging from the Japanese lyrics (analyzing the use of some kanji's/words). However, I may not have the wide scope of the song especially if there are deeper meanings/references in the Japanese original. Feel free to correct my mistakes and I am up for discussions! Enjoy!

Before we go any deeper into this song, let us define the two words in the title, "Hysteric" and "Humanoid".

Hysteric in common knowledge is an adjective or something that you would describe a person who is already on the verge or is in insanity. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, it is defined as "an overemotional or unstable person." [1]

Humanoid, on the other hand, is commonly used in science fiction and even fantasy to describe something resembling a human. It is used primarily on robots or entities that look uncannily like humans but aren't humans themselves.

We defined these two words as the song (as it should) revolves around these ideas and it will help you wrap your head around the points that I will one-by-one introduce, and later on we will string together.

Take note that we will refer to "persona" in this song to take up the second-person pronouns, as this song could be interpreted to be directed to someone or they are talking to someone else. It will make explanations a bit easier in the long run!

We will tackle the humanoid part of the song, which is the persona that is being referred to a lot throughout it.

This persona is depicted to be following a set of rules and expectations that are laid out in front of them. That's why the first stanza is already calling out this behavior, particularly how it feels so inauthentic or putting up a facade just to please someone else.

The immobile pride sunk in deja vu The appearance you put up doesn't feel authentic In front of the implicitly drawn borderline Aren’t you just trying to please them?

Note that this persona is going along with the flow, meeting expectations as they do. However, it is described as a mockery of themselves and even goes as far as comparing it as if you're dying or lazy, it's as good as you not having a worth or purpose.

Thinking that you've come this far just by going with the flow, all you're doing is mocking yourself

Why? Keep imitating and die Why? To be impassive* is to be lazy

*indifferent, apathetic

There's another line that interested me when I first saw the lyrics

The immobile pride sunk in deja vu

This specific line is hard to crack due to how it's written. So, we will tear it up piece by piece and make our own whole!

This line is quite similar throughout some translated lyrics that I cross-referenced, most of the time the adjective that is followed by pride is synonymous with restricted. In Japanese, it is written "ガンジガラメ" which in kanji form is "雁字搦め". It means to be bounded or restrained (according to the dictionary on hand or foot), leading to immobility. It restricts freedom, basically.

Another thing to note is that sunk (translated from "溺れた") apart from being translated literally to drowning in water, could also be translated to drowning in something else, like an addiction, losing your mind in the process.

The word pride is written in katakana, so we will take the English meaning of it. Pride is not just what we call "being proud", but also the awareness of someone's dignity, someone's worth.

The word déjà vu is as it is, a feeling that you have experienced something, particularly an event, even though you haven't.

Based on these little details we picked apart, we could interpret this line as restricting your own self-worth to something you believe that you experienced already or at least something that you know already.

It doesn't make sense at first but the persona we are talking about is a humanoid that goes on what is expected. They are restricted to what is already been tested because it is the best course of action. That's how most computer processes work, they will troubleshoot a problem and choose a solution provided by the system. It's a cycle, a loop.

It perfectly describes a humanoid, a human-looking figure that isn't human at all. They are also described as if they are robots (mostly humanoids are used for robots, especially if you are a fan of sci-fi movies featuring cyborgs, AI robots, and such) due to the use of words such as deletion, rewrite (as if of a computer programming script) and even this specific line:

A life with better graphic resolution

However, this humanoid of ours is seemingly human to begin with and they have a little history provided by these lines:

Rumors about classmates who parted ways have disappeared Despite being the same batch, only we remain trapped Depending on others and making excuses stopped working long ago But I've just started myself And you?   A classroom that killed your "identity" Anesthesia awaiting well-arranged shipment Even if you start blaming others now No one will listen to you Even if you resent them, they'll never reconsider

It's quite a mysterious and complicated history in a song, however, it will explain a lot of things that will be said next and even to what or maybe whom this song is targeted.

These lines pertain to the past of what made the humanoid humanoid that they are now. It is said this "classroom" killed their identity or even their essence, (the identity in the original lyrics is "ラシサ"). The use of anesthesia here is very interesting because as well all know, it is used to numb pain, which is most commonly used during surgeries and operations. It mainly disables our senses and awareness.

This aligns with what the humanoid is now, it's an empty shell that only follows what is expected of it. It is devoid of what makes a human, a human, their identity, senses (particularly emotions), and awareness.

The song is all about pushing this humanoid to break free and be human again.

Even after deletion, you’re still stained deeply After all, you’re a humanoid

It is said it is hard to get this "humanity" back, it is implied in this specific line that even if they removed this kind of thinking in their mind, they are already used to doing it. After all, it's hard to get off the path you are used to walking over and over again. However, it is reminded that they are not something that is made, they have a soul. The only thing they need is passion to break free out of this life.

We're not man-made. A soul lives in us Dye it red with the passion flowing in

They encourage the humanoid to learn life from others and even explore things, and they will realize that everything doesn't fall between just bad or good, best or worse, evil or good.

If you could learn about life from others Wouldn't that be great? From here on out, it’s an unexplored territory A world which is neither black nor white

Even if it is hard to find their own passion, they are encouraged to question their own limits and even live a better life than this robotic lifestyle that the persona has.

Once you start rewriting, things will go well Keep dreaming Humanoid Even today, don't give up on a human heart; Claim it even if it hurts We live under excessive expectations Question your limits And a life with better graphic resolution

And that's basically the song!

But we aren't done yet~

What if I tell you this song describes ALKALOID so much?

"Well, duh, of course. It's an ALKALOID song, it's not surprising." I hear you say.

Well, you are right. But there's more to it.

It does not describe just ALKALOID, but their experiences and certain people that made that experience.

If you read throughout the song, it perfectly describes what is ALKALOID, especially during the main story. All of the things described above are what essential ALKALOID was or is supposed to be. They are meant to meet expectations, particularly how they are supposed to get in MDM and get enough likes to get in the second part. They are meant to please the higher-ups, after all, they are just test subjects of Eichi's plan.

Which perfectly segues us to important details in this song!

If you have noticed, I have left these specific lines out of the song analysis above.

Why? The lie you’ve imitated Why? Dreams turn out to be alluring traps There’s no way anyone can know your true thoughts Why? A style of unnecessary mass production? Why? Instigate a tragedy and dive They have a silver tongue and a deceptive face If you’re careless, you’ll just get tripped up

Why? Keep imitating and die Why? To be impassive is to be lazy There’s no way anyone can know your true thoughts Why? Then is this what it means to be a villain? Why? Being idealistic all the time is tough They sure have a silver tongue, the pitiable mad scientist That’s enough

This has important lines that will point us to the last nail in the coffin to put this case to rest.

A style of unnecessary mass production?

As I said earlier, ALKALOID is the first test subject of Eichi's grand plan. The basic gist of it is the mass production of idols that shine just enough instead of creating one idol or more likely a unit that will shine brighter (which was commonly referred to as Trickstar who rose to stardom almost overnight).

The verses above pertain to someone who is deceptive and the cause of all of this which is how ALKALOID sees Eichi during the main story. Every line is quite perfectly fitting. "Instigate a tragedy and dive" prefers to how Eichi talked to ALKALOID, particularly about Crazy:B and his plans for them to be his pawns or quite fittingly, his soldiers. "Being idealistic all the time is tough" refers to how hard everything was to get in place with Eichi's plans (and even by extension Ibara's). I am leaving the rest of the lines for you to interpret.

This is what makes me think that this song is quite directed not really just to Eichi, but to the whole higher staff of Ensemble Square that what made all of it to fruition.

This is wholly why I was interested in picking apart this song as it's quite a bold song to sing, especially being under the one you are trying to direct this at. I might be reading this too much, but every line in the song actually pertains to the events that happened to the main story. It just fits too well.

Extra Analysis

There's also a certain part of the song that fits a certain person a little bit too well:

Rumors about classmates who parted ways have disappeared Despite being the same batch, only we remain trapped Depending on others and making excuses stopped working long ago But I've just started myself And you?   A classroom that killed your "identity" Anesthesia awaiting well-arranged shipment Even if you start blaming others now No one will listen to you Even if you resent them, they'll never reconsider

If you ever read Obbligato, you know who I am talking about, or who are the people I am talking about.

This is mainly why I chose Tatsumi as the little banner for this analysis because I believe and I've seen others see this as a song for Tatsumi or of Tatsumi.

These verses perfectly describe what happened in Obbligato.

Rumours about classmates who parted ways have disappeared Despite being the same batch, only we remain trapped

This particular line refers to Kaname (HiMERU) and Tatsumi who unfortunately stopped years off at Reimei Academy due to an incident we will talk about later.

Depending on others and making excuses stopped working long ago But I've just started myself

I believe this might be pertaining to how Tatsumi is starting again especially being bedridden in a hospital for years due to an injury he gained during the incident which perfectly segues us to the next line!

A classroom that killed your "identity" Anesthesia awaiting well-arranged shipment

These lines struck me the most. I am actually heartbroken to even type these words, but basically, this describes the incident in which Kaname was induced into a coma. A classroom might refer not to a literal room, but a group of people, particularly classmates. This line might be directed to HiMERU (oremeru) especially how his identity now is the identity of his young brother.

Even if you start blaming others now No one will listen to you Even if you resent them, they'll never reconsider*

*could be interpreted as not holding a grudge

This makes me believe these lines are directed at him, especially how his relationship with Tatsumi. How he blames Tatsumi and resents him and how Tatsumi never holds a grudge on such things and even takes it himself.

That's your little bonus analysis. :>>

Well, that's a long-winded one!

A little recap, this song pertains to a "humanoid" who goes on to meet excessive expectations and encourage them to break free and find their own path. The humanoid is ALKALOID themselves and we explained how it might be directed to a certain someone or group of people.

I'll be perfectly honest, this is such a hard song to crack and this isn't even what you could understand in this song. However, I like analyzing along with you! I'll be happy to hear your additional analyses of this song. It's also quite hard because it leans heavily on metaphors and I had to dig into the Japanese original of this one. As I said in the beginning, for any clarifications and corrections, kindly send them to me!

All in all, I had fun analyzing it due to how much you could pull in even one line! It is honestly amazing how it could pertain to a lot of things. It's such a fun and challenging song to crack. It beautifully encompasses ALKALOID and the message it sends to us:

Choose it with your own heartbeat

[molinabiancavalentina]

LITERATURE FOR ENGLISH

2ND BLOG _ Water / POEM

First of all, this poem was written by Kate Coombs, an amazing writer who shows us through this literary work how water can be there one day and suddenly the other day it can be completely gone from our lives. The importance of water conservation in this poem is very relevant because it tries to convey to the person who reads this poem how important it is to start thinking about what will happen when you come inside your house and there is no water to drink, the importance of water conservation should be prioritized all over the world if we want to overcome this situation. Actually, water is a big problem all over the world, but especially in countries like Eritrea, Uganda, Ethiopia, Somalia and more....

The work portrays the conservation of water as something important, although it is not explicitly mentioned in the text, but we can know that the poem invites us to stop being so unconscious about this big problem with water and to start being more rational by conserving water in different ways. Water is symbolized as a resource that is naturally clean and cool, that lives in rivers as well as in pools, this is meant to imply that water represents something vital within the poem, as it is mentioned in great detail in the part that this resource could simply cease to exist at any moment. But water is also presented as something that could disappear at any moment if nothing is done about the problem. Or maybe it could represent the flow or how it could start to trickle out of a pipe. Here I would like to point out a stanza of the poem that confirms what I have mentioned above:

“Today there is water

  when we turn the tape on.

  But what will we do 

  when the water is gone?”

The author's message about water conservation is that we should all continue to take steps to ensure that water is not wasted unnecessarily. The poem invites us to stop and think for a while about how much it would affect our daily lives if we used water unnecessarily; in the long run, water consumption could affect us to such an extent that this resource would probably become a privilege that only the richest could acquire. In other words, she wants us to understand, through various metaphors and other literary figures, how important the resource of water is for living beings in general. The author's perspective in the poem is very clear, as she not only focuses on the conservation of water as such, but also tries to tell us what would happen if we do not act quickly. The author doesn't mention any cultural or historical aspect in the text, but I'm sure she's referring to those African places where water is not enough for everyone when she mentions water is drying up.

Some of the key tips I would recommend to avoid unnecessary water consumption are as follows

* Avoid drinking extra water when your body is not asking for it, this way the drinking water in your house would not run out so quickly.

* Do not use the toilet as a garbage can to prevent water from being contaminated by food waste or just plain garbage.

* Use environmentally friendly cleaning products that do not pollute the water.

In conclusion, the poem of this great writer shows us in detail and with some linguistic elements how water can be very important for us, but we never bother to know if we are making good use of this resource. There are many people around the world who do not have access to water because water conservation is not encouraged in a larger percentage of the population, which is a big problem among the people who inhabit this imperfect world. However, it is possible to fix this big mess just by following some of the tips floating around the internet on how to protect water from being no more. From my point of view, this poem perfectly reflects and conveys to me the essence of water conservation by describing the other side of the coin, the consumption of water.

[pleasestaywithmedarling]

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin: Part VI

previous masterlist next

In the moment Emitis pushed Kiri down to kneel within the water of the bathing pool, Anden understood. It was exactly like the ritual he’d seen all those worshippers perform in the High Chamber over the last few days, when they’d dip their hand into that golden bowl of water. Only this time some rich asshole wanted to really get Vato’s attention with a full-bodied immersion instead. But he’d apparently paid off the priests to let Kiri do it in his place. How much coin had this guy forked over just so he wouldn’t get a bit of water on his hideous damask shirt?

Anden might have merely rolled his eyes at all this absurdity. Except he couldn’t help but notice that a ritual which normally required a few drops of water now required an entire pool. So if, usually, worshippers pricked themselves to draw just a few drops of blood…

He jerked in his bonds, losing his balance for a terrifying moment. He got his feet back under him, no small task when his arms were stretched so far toward the ceiling that his toes barely touched the ground. Focus—he needed to focus. Willing himself to hold still, he scolded himself for letting his mask slip. Showing fear gave others power over him; he needed to stay in control.

But he found his eyes wandering over to the wall of cabinets. His pulse quickened as he wondered just how many instruments of torture could be hiding inside those doors.

A frantic gasp followed by a splash caught his attention. The rich asshole had just launched into a new stanza of the prayer, and Emitis had pushed Kiri down once more below the water’s surface.

The asshole continued reciting. And Emitis didn’t let Kiri back up.

This wasn’t some quick in-and-out baptism, he realized; he watched, horrified, as the recitation continued at a slow plod despite the fact that Kiri was now thrashing underwater as though her life depended on it. But it had to end soon, Anden told himself, trying to calm down. She was the good one, the one who never got punished, the one who was barely ever even restrained because she did whatever she was told. She was like a well-trained pet for these temple bastards. Not only would Emitis never risk killing Kiri before the sacrifice next year, he surely wouldn’t do anything to actually hurt her; even by that monster’s twisted logic, she didn’t deserve it.

And yet, she was still pinned down beneath the water’s surface.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when the prayer’s second stanza came to an end and Kiri was at last brought up for air. But scarcely had she drawn in a breath around her gag when the third stanza was begun and she was forced back under.

As the dreadful cycle continued, he thought he was going mad. Watching her be tortured like this, helpless to do anything to stop it, was becoming its own form of torment. She couldn’t keep this up; each time she surfaced she was more panicked. When she came up coughing only to be pushed back in before she’d had a chance to inhale, Anden’s heart dropped. As Kiri’s weak struggles came to a halt, a half-choked cry ripped its way from his throat.

The High Priest looked at him coolly. The corners of his mouth twisted up into the faintest hint of a smile.

Anden’s vision went red.

And then with a spluttering, retching gasp—the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard—Kiri was pulled out of the water and deposited at the side of the pool.

She turned her head to vomit on the ground beside her, and Anden was appalled by the amount of water she’d taken in. When Emitis, in an unsettling display of affection, brushed her wet hair out of her face, she scurried away from him in a terrified flailing of limbs, and her foot made contact with his knee. Before Anden could even register what had happened, Emitis had struck the girl fully across the face.

The gross injustice of it all was finally too much, and something inside him snapped. In an absolute rage, he roared into his gag, twisting furiously in the ropes that were holding him back from beating the life out of the High Priest.

Kiri turned toward him, and his anger melted as he drank in the sight of her, alive and whole but not unchanged. He’d never seen her eyes so empty; it was as though he was looking at a mere shell of her. Perhaps the rest of her had been lost somewhere beneath the water’s surface—the thought frightened him down to his core.

But at last some emotion broke through those dark eyes, and once it started it burst out of her as though it would never stop. Her inhales came in shuddering gasps and her exhales in heart-wrenching sobs. When Emitis ordered her taken away, she was shaking so badly that she had to be carried all the way to her cell. Anden strained to watch her go, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the taut position in which he was bound.

“And now for the ritual of Sin,” said Emitis. Opening one of the cabinets, he selected a whip, and as it caught the light Anden saw that its lash was twisted in sharp wire.

This was not just a tool for inflicting pain. This was a tool for tearing flesh to ribbons.

“I’d rather like to hear his screams,” the High Priest had said. At the time Anden had sworn not to give the bastard the satisfaction. Now he wasn’t so sure he would have a choice.

Stepping out of Anden’s sight, Emitis told the worshipper, “You may begin.”

Head lifted toward the heavens in calm piety, the man recited, “Vato, wise lawgiver and equitable magistrate over all the six kingdoms, I offer myself to Your judgment. As I confess to all of the evils that may be lurking within my core, I pray that You will cast them away, that I may be deserving of my place in Ilyrna, the kingdom of Your rule.”

Anden braced himself for the first crack of the barbed whip, but nothing could have prepared him for the harsh sting as the leather and wire ripped through his tunic and tore his skin from his left shoulder to his right hip. He bit down onto his gag but couldn’t hold back his sharp, pained gasp. As the worshipper continued into the second stanza, the white-hot pain of the wound seemed to only pulse stronger. Stay calm—he had to stay calm. He couldn’t show fear. He could take this. He braced himself for the next lash.

The second strike ran parallel to the first. Though it was quick as a serpent’s strike, Anden would have sworn that for a moment he fully felt the sheer wrongness of the twists of wire burrowing down inside his skin before they were wrenched through. His entire back burned and a small groan escaped his lips.

No. He could take this.

But as the third stanza drew to a close, his breathing came hard and quick. With a dreadful snap the whip dug a ragged canal into his flesh from his right shoulder to his left side. Where it intersected the other two tears in his skin it ripped off even more, and he yelled a garbled string of curses.

Only three down, and the pain was excruciating.

There were nine still to come. His legs went weak at the thought.

As the worshipper placidly asked Vato to cleanse him of each of the ten evils of humankind, Anden’s self-control grew more tenuous. By the stanza about lack of pride he was screaming with each lash; by the stanza about sloth, the rope at his wrists was the only thing holding him upright.

He couldn’t take this.

At last the prayer drew to a close, and Anden found himself face to face with the High Priest. Tenderly, Emitis reached out and brushed Anden’s face with the tip of his finger, then held it up to Anden so he could see the teardrops that rested there. Shame filling his gut and rising in his throat like bile, he swallowed hard as though that would push it down.

Emitis smiled, then turned his attention to the worshipper. “Come. In performing this ritual, you have proved your worthiness to Vato. He will hear your request in the High Chamber.” They stepped out to the hallway, and Anden was left alone with the guards.

Cutting away his bonds, they laughed when he yelped in pain as he fell to the ground in a heap. With as little care as they might handle a sack of potatoes, they hefted him up and dropped him on one of the two central stone tables. He lay there on his stomach, too weak to move—for once, the guards didn’t even bother restraining him to the table.

The healer priestess was ushered in, and cleaned and bandaged and stitched his back together once more—a torturous process that hurt almost as much as slicing it apart had. The aging woman didn’t help matters with her rough handling; she was here to keep him from dying, but clearly didn’t care if she caused him more pain while she did so. Strangely, he found himself thinking of when Kiri had mended his tunic their first morning in this hellhole: her earnest seeking of his permission to touch him, how deftly her fingers had moved, the care she’d taken to avoid irritating the fresh brand on his chest.

Finally, finally he was dragged back to his cell, and it was a relief to be back behind the relative safety of those bars. He lay on his stomach beside the cell door; his back burned white-hot with even the slightest movement, and it was too much to even consider dragging himself to his pallet. Gods, he was pathetic. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sickly yellow lump of humiliation festered within his stomach and began to take root in his core.

“Anden?”

He opened his eyes to see Kiri curled up on the hard stone floor just inside her cell door; she must be in pretty bad shape if she’d not made it to her pallet either. She hadn’t even wrapped herself in her thin blanket like she always did, even though she was shivering wearing only her wet shift. The events of her part in the ritual came rushing back to him. “You okay?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes,” she lied, her voice half-choked with tears. “Are—are you? What did they do to you?”

“Nothing I couldn’t take,” he lied back, and he forced the lump of shame down, buried it deep down inside his core. If that statement wasn’t true, he’d pretend until it was.

For a several long minutes they were silent. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the pain that came in waves so strong they were making him nauseous. The sound of Kiri’s shaking, too-fast breaths provided some small comfort, though—at least it meant that she was breathing at all.

When had that begun to matter?

“Anden?”

“Hmm?”

“I want out.”

Something in her voice grabbed his attention, and he opened his eyes to study her in the dim torchlight. She was crying still, her endlessly moving fingers running through the end of her damp braid over and over in anxious repetition. Yet though she looked as frightened as she ever did, there really had been something there in her voice—a hardened edge to her tone that he’d never heard before.

“I—I want out. But you get punished if I get in trouble, so I can’t—I can’t—” Kiri’s hands began to flap, and she gripped her braid tightly to still them. “But gods, Anden, I want us out. We have to find a way out.” She locked eyes with him, and despite her tears he saw a determination there that took his breath away. “Will you help me?”

A strange impulse took hold of him. Gritting his teeth as the movement pulled at his back, he threaded one arm through the bars and stretched a hand halfway across the narrow hall that separated the two cells. Kiri looked at his hand for a long moment like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, before timidly reaching out her own. Anden clasped her hand, and realized something about her touch just felt right.

He was still sticking to his plan, he assured himself. All he really cared about was getting himself out of there, back to his family. If it ever came down to him or her, he’d choose himself, no question.

But perhaps he could make sure it didn’t come to that.

He squeezed Kiri’s hand. “Welcome to the team.”

next

Go team!!!

Thank you so very much for reading! I'm having a great time with this fic, and it's been so much fun getting to share it with all of you :)

tag list: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

[oxydiane]

Hideout

for @impishtubist

They land swiftly on the side of a rocky road. Remus brings a hand to his chest and breathes heavily, his heart beating erratically. Sirius stands perfectly still, both his hands shaking as he clutches Harry close to his chest.

Harry is crying.

‘Please tell me… You got the…’ Remus pants.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Sirius fishes a small muggle wallet from his pocket and shoves in Remus’ hands. ‘I wasn’t the top of our Charms class for nothing.’

‘God, I love you.’ Remus breathes out and loses no time to dip his whole arm in the charmed wallet. He takes out a pacifier and puts it in Harry’s mouth gently to quell his crying.

‘We’ve got you now, buddy.’

They don’t wander around for long. Sirius had been able to bewitch the small Prefect badge to transport them as far away from Britain as he could, but the process had been rushed and as a result they had no idea where they had been transported. None of the signs they encountered read english so they both decided it was good enough.

They opt to follow the road in the hope that they’ll at least encounter something or someone at some point. Sirius walks with Harry hooked over his hip, big green eyes looking around quizzically in a way that makes his heart clench and Remus holds his arm with one hand and his wand with the other.

They eventually stop in front of fairly tall building, the walls are made of stone and a sign hanging outside reads ‘All’uomo selvatico.’ They look at each other and Sirius bites his lip before taking a deep breath and making his way to the front door.

‘Sera!’ The chirpy voice of a woman calls but neither of them really knows what that means so they stay silent.

They seem to have ended up in a tavern. The floors are hardwood, and there are a fair amount of tables occupied by groups of men loudly drinking and dining. Sirius shots one look at Remus and Remus nods. He clenches his fist, itching to hold Sirius’ hand but unsure how well that would go.

They make their way to the cashier.

‘Oh! Che creaturina!’ The same woman that had spoken before coos looking at Harry who was now dozing off against Sirius’ chest. ‘E che occhi! Che meraviglia! Come si chiama?’

Sirius uncomfortably shifts on his feet, not understanding her words but picking up he was being asked a question. The woman frowns at their silence.

‘Uh? Tutto apposto?’

Remus clears his throat. ‘Uh… Can… We… Room?’ He raises one finger, trying to be as clear as possible.

Her eyes widen. ‘Ah, Valentina! Abbiamo degli inglesi qui!’

Shortly after a younger woman appears next to the presumable owner of the place. She has long brown hair tied in a low ponytail and looks at them excitedly.

‘Yes! Hello, sirs!’ Her accent it thick and her speaking feels quite robotic but they take a sigh of relief, they could understand that. ‘Do you want two rooms?’

Sirius shakes his head. ‘One is fine.’

‘One it is then!’ She claps her hands before turning to the older woman. ‘Una stanza per la notte.’

The older woman nods and starts writing something down before leaning over to whisper something in the girl’s ear. Her eyes light up and she turns back to them.

‘What is his name?’ She points to Harry, now drooling on Sirius’ shirt.

‘Harry.’ They reply at once.

The older woman coos again and the cash register rings. Remus hopes they can get their hands on appropriate muggle money before sunrise.

[unrequitedloveletter]

All right! This post is something that’s been a long time in the making. I hit 500 followers early last month, and I’ve been trying to figure out a cool way to celebrate ever since. 

This is what I came up with! Requests for this are open until the 29th and will probably start coming out at the beginning of next week, with the latest I can think that the first one would come out being around next wednesday. 

The characters to whom this applies are the same as usual! Nikolai, Alina, Mal, and Zoya as far as Shadow and Bone goes, and Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Nina and Matthias as far as Six of Crows is concerned. Pin Hawthorne of Free Rein is included in this as well, as he always is. As for characters that I don’t normally attach to my events, we have Aaron Warner and Kenji Kishimoto from the Shatter Me series!

CONCERT LINEUP

TAYLOR SWIFT

invisible string- pick a verse, bridge, or chorus from any taylor swift song. Provide a character, and I’ll write a mini-song fic/blurb with each paragraph based off of each lyric sent in. Multiple verses, bridges or choruses can be sent in but to keep the fics relatively short, I ask that, per request, you don’t send in more than three. 

paper rings- weddings!! give me a character. a rough word count (10k is the most I’m willing to write, but if you want the fic to be a longer one, specifics are heavily recommended) and where you would want to get married if you were to get married! You can also tell me if you want it to be next level angst or to have the fluff scale turned up to eleven. Provide whatever specifics you want, and along with the fic, you’ll get a moodboard! You can mention if you want the moodboard to replace whatever gif I use as a fic header, but if you want it at the bottom of the fic and for me to include the gif anyway, just let me know!

lavender haze- AUS! You can pretty much pick any AU or combination of AUs that you want, be it a royalty au combined with your selection of the thousands of soulmate aus that people have come up with or a modern au with a coffeeshop au thrown in there! Anything is fair game, as long as you provide me with a character and whatever other specifics you can think to include. I’ll write three thousand words for this one, so again, the more specifics, the better!

long story short- all right! This one will be a fic set like, 5-10 years in the future! Flashback scenes can be included if you want them to be but if not, the past that got the characters to where they are will be discussed a bit through internal monologuing. This one is pretty much just up to the requester. The plot is your choice, the character is your choice, even the genre is your choice. everything is up to you and for the third time, the more specifics you add, the better!

message in a bottle- ships and moodboards! send in a brief description of yourself, your gender and fandom pref, and an activity you think would make a fun date night, and I’ll ship you with someone! 

CONAN GRAY

lookalike- this is the hurt/comfort freebie! give me a character, a hurt/comfort prompt or idea of your choosing, and a word count (for this one, the max I’ll write is 5k) 

fight or flight- headcanon freebie! Give me an idea you have that you want me to write headcanons for

the cut that always bleeds- this is the conan gray version of the invisible string prompt. Give me a verse, bridge, or chorus of any of conans songs and I’ll write an angst fic using that, with one paragraph for every lyric in each stanza. In the interest of keeping these fics short, I ask that you only send three stanzas per request

the story- long fics! These ones can take place at random points throughout different years in the characters lives, and they can follow pretty much any plotline! Want me to write a slowburn that runs across a decade or two? want me to show how the characters lives would progress throughout the run of five years or maybe a relationship a year before it begins, as it develops, and a year after something like a proposal or marriage? Theres a lot of potential for plots here, it’s entirely up to the requester! These fics tend to run a bit longer and the shortest I could see myself making one is 5k, with a max word count of 15k, so be mindful that these will likely run a bit on the longer side and thus, take me a bit more time to complete

grow- songs and moodboards! for this one, just drop this prompt into my inbox and tell me that it’s from this event, and I’ll make a moodboard based on how I percieve you/your aesthetic, or I’ll give you a list of like, ten songs that remind of me of you or that I think you would probably enjoy! (moots only) 

PHOEBE BRIDGERS

funeral- this one is the MCD freebie. Drop this one into my inbox if you want me to write some angst involving the death of a character of your choice

killer- this is AU’s but with an angsty twist of your choosing! Soulmate AU’s with near-death experiences, right person right time but with an unexpected twist that throws things off completely? Pick and AU and an angst trope and give me a character for this one. 

moon song- phoebe bridgers version of the invisible string and the cut that always bleeds prompts. Pick any chorus, verse, or bridge from any song by phoebe bridgers, and I’ll write a mini songfic with it. Again, in the interest of keeping the requests short, I ask that you send no more than three stanzas per request. 

punisher (copycat killer version)- this one, in contrast to the rest of the phoebe bridgers prompts, is a bit more on the hurt/comfort side. For this one, give me any prompt that you want! My only ask is that, if you take the prompt from another account, you credit them in your request, and that you keep the prompt within the realms of hurt/comfort or angst. Send in a character for this one, and I’ll write a thousand words for it. 

waiting room- this one is the painful angst freebie! Make it hurt, make it hard hitting. Have Character A watch Character B almost die. Make it as painful as you want, and with this one, the more specific you can be, the better! Depending on how much you include, these ones may also run a little on the longer side (3-7k as a minimum, 10-14k as a max) 

-

mutual tags: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @thebestieyoureinlovewith​ 

[broomsick]

Keeping an ear out for the High One (and other deities’) advice: a crash course!

Oðinn is known for his wisdom and knowledge, and often manifests himself in the form of omens. However, he is also famously deceiving: he will send you puzzle pieces and watch you try to put them together. His advice comes in handy in numerous predicaments, but it requires some sorting out. Understanding the High One’s messages often comes at a price, and I believe he will send you trials and setbacks if the lesson doesn’t sink in. Not because he is malevolent! In my opinion, he puts obstacles on our way so that we can learn by ourselves, just like he has. In order to help you guys figure out Oðinn’s messages, I’ve boiled down the basics to three major habits which I myself seek to develop. These apply to a lot of other deities, but I’ve chosen to illustrate them using Oðinn as an example because his messages are famously hard to decrypt! Now, everything in this post was written according to my personal beliefs and experiences with Oðinn and the Gods. The advice I give is that of a very humble polytheist, and in no way does it represent the absolute truth. Take away from it what you will, because I don’t claim to know the Gods more than any other.

Observation

Or catching any potential message

Learn about omens! I’m serious. Especially those that relate to the High One’s symbols, such as birds (crows, ravens) or wolves. If he talked to us directly, I believe he would encourage us to observe everything that surrounds us and to study it to the best of our capacities. May I add,

“The knowing guest who goes to the feast, in silent attention sits; With his ears he hears, with his eyes he watches, thus wary are wise men all.” Hávamál, stanza 7

Which is why I suggest to look at things: not only see them, but truly look at them. Observe the clouds’ movements, the grass under your feet and the feeling of the wind. Notice how people behave and try to guess why they behave so! Tune your ear in to sounds you’d never paid attention to before. Truly listen when people talk to you for sometimes, the High One will speak using their voices. Such exercises will accustom you to catch everything that goes on around you. Eventually, you will start to notice when something feels different, and identifying actual divine advice will become easier.

Discernment

Or identifying messages

I’ll go broader than just Oðinn for this step because I believe it applies to most deities. Now in my experience, divine advice often feels like its divine. You will know it in your bones. Physically, you may experience a chill or goosebumps. Time may feel like it stopped for half a second, just long enough for the actual message to sink it once you realize it is there. You might find yourself unconsciously mulling over whatever it is you have seen for the minutes or hours that follow. Yet as you’ve probably heard before, not everything is a divine sign. I think skepticism is a vital part of spirituality. People will see a bug outside and go ‘Loki’s telling me I should find work!’ or they’ll drive past a cat cafe and think ‘this is Freyja’s way of telling me I should break up with my boyfriend’. Now, I’m not saying we should constantly brush off signs as fake. My own way of looking at it is, does it really matter if they are? It isn’t necessary to try and interpret every possible sign. If a certain event reminded you of a deity and you think they might have sent you that message, then good! And if you’ve learned a valuable lesson thanks to it, then even better! Believing you’ve received a message from one of your deities, even if you’re not 100% certain of it, is harmless and even healthy. So long as you don’t take every potential message at face value. Same goes for the High One.

Application

Or interpreting the message

Time to reflect on the sign you’ve experienced! What lesson could you possibly learn from the event/the omen? If a particular message seems to arise, how can it be applied to your personal situation? Let me give an example. You’ve mysteriously lost your keys and are forced to go to your neighbor for help. They warmly invite you in their home, make you some tea and turn out a lot more pleasant than you thought they were. Thanks to this unexpected event, you could become more aware of the people around you, choose to commit yourself to your community, or simply try to not judge people with a single glance. Your eyes are drawn to a crow while you’re walking home from work, and you notice it take flight towards the sunset. The image feels strangely warm and comforting? This might be Oðinn’s way to make you notice the world around you, to tell you to breathe and enjoy a moment of tranquility. My personal opinion is that wether these were divine signs or not doesn’t matter, and there is no point trying to prove that they are either. If you learned something from them, them you can very well choose to believe they were sent by a deity because they just might be!

[nikolai-alexi]

I Have To Tell You Something

James isn’t sure how it happens. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have tears running freely down his face or didn’t feel the sob building in his chest.

He’s only left his table a few times in the last several hours, and he isn’t even sure most students are even aware this table exists. It’s his preferred table, tucked way back into the Transfiguration section of the library with a stained glass window behind it that casts red, green, blue, and yellow hues across his papers when the sun hits it. He’d only been gone for two minutes — if that — to exchange one textbook for another one.

When he got back to his table, one of his books, “A Finer View of Transfiguration and Its Unlikely Applications” by Margaux Twillfit, had moved from its place near the bottom of his precariously stacked tower of texts onto his parchment. That was…strange…he doesn’t remember moving it. He must have though, because even in Hogwarts, books don’t just move randomly. He shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of convoluted content and picks the book up to move it away from his crowded desktop. When he picks it up, a roughly torn bit of parchment falls from between the pages.

Scrawling, messy, and slightly smudged handwriting loops around a small stanza of a poem. He doesn’t recognise the handwriting, but something about it feels familiar all the same.

I Have To Tell You Something is scrawled across the top. He looks around before he reads the rest. He would hate to read someone’s personal note, but any sounds of other students are well away from his secluded corner. He looks down at the bit of parchment and begins to read.

I Have To Tell You Something.

I know you’ve been told the very opposite but hear me out

You are worth the hassle

You are worth the inconvenience

You are not exasperating

You’re not causing a fuss

Asking for what you need is not being difficult

Stop apologising for being human.

In the right corner of the parchment, there is — what most might assume — a small blob of smudged ink, but James knows better. He can barely see it, but there’s a looping curl of an R, followed by the sharp point of an A, and a forceful swipe of ink where a B should be.

He put this here.

He put this here for James to find.

He put this here for James to find because he know him. He knows how James struggles and knows how he worries and obsesses and panics and shuts down.

He put this here for James to find because he know him. He knows how James struggles and knows how he worries and obsesses and panics and shuts down. And because he cares.

Because he still cares. He still cares even though they aren’t together. He still cares even when they’re on opposite sides of the War. He still cares even though he tried desperately to convince James he didn’t.

Regulus still cares enough about him to hide this in a book — the book that Regulus often listened to James go on seemingly endless tangents about — and remind him to take care of himself and not retreat into himself.

James rubs his thumb over the dried ink and watches a tear stain the edge. He rereads the words over and over and over until his vision is too blurry with tears to comprehend the words any longer, but they’re burned into his eyelids now and he reads them again. His heart shatters for what feels like the millionth time since they broke up four months ago. He wants to find Regulus, wrap him into his arms, and steal him away from this hellscape they’re trapped in. He wants to, but he knows he can’t.

“If only being away from Greece could change the ending of their stories,” James whispers hoarsely, the sound grating against his own ears, “That’s the thing about their tragedies; someone always dies in the end,”

On the other side of the bookshelf, hidden from view and a fist shoved against his mouth to silence his sobs, Regulus Black does nothing to stop his own tears from pouring down his face. He dares not to whisper and bring James’ attention to himself, but he mouths the words he knows by heart into the air, like the action might soothe some of the gaping wounds in his chest.

“The man I loved beyond all others, that I loved as my own life,”

Perhaps comparing their tragedy to Achilles and Patroclus is a bit too on the nose. Perhaps the Iliad is not the right epic to summarise their story.

But James, with his hurt and rage and grief, plays the role of Achilles like no other could when the news comes. He tears his hair from his skull and begs the gods to bring his star back to him. He screams his throat bloody and his grief turns to blinding rage. He becomes ruthless. He will have vengeance on the one who took his love.

And Regulus? Regulus steps into the suit of Patroclus like it was made just for him. He sees when James begins to tire, even from the other side of the battlefield. When James goes into hiding, Regulus dons his metaphorical armour and joins the fight for real this time. He meets his end much the same to Patroclus. Alone.

James and Achilles meet their ends quite differently. One dies from an arrow shot from a vengeful price and guided into a heel by an angry god and the other by the hand of a man convinced he could be a god.

But really, in the end of it all, Achilles, James, Regulus, or Patroclus; it doesn’t matter. Because they all die. They all die long before they should. And they all die alone.

If only being out of Greece could have changed their stories.

If only being out of Troy could have changed their stories.

If only being out of that cave nestled in the Cliffs of Moher could have changed their stories.

If only being out of Godrics Hallow could have changed their stories.

But it didn’t. And they died in the end.

I Have To Tell You Something, friend.

The fairytales lied.

Love doesn’t survive a war or a great conquest.

It just dies at the end.

[amanufacturedheaven]

Pride Month Academia

Happy Pride Month! As someone who became fascinated with queer history many years ago, celebrating pride month in this way became comforting to me, and honestly, pushed me in the direction of the degree I’m studying now. Finding a legitimate academic route to learning about queer history can be difficult, so if any of you find the time, I thought I would make a list of my favourite pride month activities. We may not all be connected by blood, but our history and struggle overlap, I am only able to write a post such as this because our communal ancestors fought to let me, I can only hope to use this time to show them gratitude.

Something to note for the allies: your queer friends appreciate when you’re not completely clueless about our struggles and history, all it takes is 5 minutes to find resources on laws in your country/province/state, charities/organisations near you, queer icons, and mental health. Watch, listen, learn.

Thank you, without further ado:

- Research the history of homosexuality in wherever you live

- Send lavender to someone you love (or wear lavender perfume)

- Write a five-line stanza about a girl you made eye contact with for 6 seconds at a cafe

- Research secret queer societies

- Analyse Sappho’s poetry, and that of which she inspired

- Watch interviews from Stonewall attendees

- Watch queer cinema —> Maurice, Dead Poets Society, Milk, Carol, Summer of ‘85

- Write an essay about your favourite queer icon

- If you partake in other forms of social media, follow queer tribute/history accounts (@/queerloveinhistory & @/theaidsmemorial on instagram)

- Obsess over LGBT art, hang it around you room, stare at it for so long that Frida Kahlo is burned into your corneas

- Write a paper on your favourite queer icon, or one you want to know more about

- Translate queer writings from a language you’re learning

- See LGBT art in person at a gallery/exhibition

- Lastly, treat yourself, have some self care, take some time away from the internet, find a safe space that you can be yourself

Blessed be the mystery of love!

[psalacanthea]

That thing about Solas and the Inquisitor’s kid was going around again, so I felt like writing another one.  Solas deserves to have his stupid plans be called out by children. :P

Adaia   Ashalle  Cyris and Tamlen

...

“What does hooey mean?”

“What does-” Dorian’s approaching voice cut off, a sigh echoing down the spiral staircase.  “Spell it for me, won’t you?”

“H-u-e,” the other voice replied, serious in the particularly earnest fashion only a child could be.

“Hue,” Dorian clarified.  “It means a shade of color that has not had any black or white added to it– a pure color.”

The voices were approaching the rotunda, which could only mean one thing.  Dorian was trying to escape.  Resigned, Solas reached for the book he was reading and slid a scrap of paper between the pages, closing it.  Not a suitable volume for a very prying da’len to be looking at.

“Is blue a hue?  Is purple a hue?” the child’s voice asked doggedly.  Much like her words, as Dorian appeared in the archway, the small elven girl behind him was following like a tail.  Perniciously close.

“Yes, blue and purple are hues– oh look!  It’s your Hahren!  He’s so much better at fielding endless inquiries than I am,” Dorian lightly touched the girl’s shoulder, propelling her past him into the rotunda.  Solas gave him a flat look, and Dorian made a pleading gesture from behind the Inquisitor’s eldest daughter, clasping his hands together.  “Well!  This has been a marvelous hour, but I’m afraid I must be off to…report.  To Josephine.  About something I’m sure I’ll think of by the time I get there.”

The mage beat a hasty retreat.

Adaia half-turned to watch him go, solemn golden eyes thoughtful.  Her expressions were much like her mother’s, pensive in rest.  But behind the small frown was a six-year-old child possessed of a near-bottomless well of questions, as curious as her younger siblings were in their own unique ways.  Solas folded his hands together, watching as she clutched the worn book in her arms to her chest, tucking her chin atop it.

“Are there many words you don’t know in your book today, da’len?”

She pivoted to face him, hugging the book a bit tighter.  “Yes.  It’s not a learning book, Hahren.”

“There are no books in this world, da’len, that do not have something to teach.  What is it about?”

“Poems,” she said without pronouncing the ‘e’, approaching him with one last glance over her shoulder.  Her Dalish dress of brightly patterned, hand-woven cloth was rather dusty; she’d been digging through the depths of the shelves again.  “Is Dor’an mad?”

“No, da’len, he enjoys being exasperated.  That means frustrated.”

She shot him a look so dubiously suspicious that Solas had to stifle a laugh.  Adaia shook her head at him soberly, chin-length brown hair swinging.  Her voice was dictating but patient, as if he’d said something foolish.  “People don’t like being mad.”

“Everyone is different.  In this case, though, I believe he likes to pretend to be mad.  Do you like the poems?”  He took the book as she handed it to him, examining it with curiosity.  Verses of Nature; he knew instantly why she’d chosen it.  Ada had a particular fascination with insects and plants.  The little one leaned against the arm of his chair, arms barely able to reach to fold atop it.  

Adaia rested her chin in the hollow between her arms and chest, staring up at him with a penetrating air.  “No,” she admitted with a charming frankness.  “I like books about bones and mushrooms but there arn’t anymore. The poemtry don’t make sense.  D’you like poems?”

“Poetry,” he corrected out of habit, but didn’t correct her grammar.  Solas carefully opened the aged book, holding it so both he and the small child could look at it together.  It seemed to be a collection of nature poetry.  “Well, it may not be about bones, but butterflies and waterfalls.  Those are interesting things as well, da’len.”

“Where are the butterflies?”

“In the poem it says they are on the flowers, do you see?”  Solas asked, pointing to the stanza.  

“No.”  Frustration touched her voice and expression, and the little one gave a small huff, lips pursing mulishly.  “Not no seeing.  I see it.  The butterflies are dancing on the– the…”

“Roseate,” Solas supplied.  He took a moment to consider his audience, and then chose his explanation.  “Which means pink.  Pink like the dawn.  Do you understand what I mean by that?”

“Yes,” she dismissed.  Still, she repeated the word as if imprinting it on her memory.  Which, knowing Adaia, she was.  “Rosey-ate blooms.  Blooms means flowers.  Pink flowers.  It don’t say where.”

“You wish to know where the butterflies can be found?” he asked, understanding dawning.  When she nodded ferociously, he smiled.  “This is a poetry book, da’len.  It is for learning about feelings, not learning where to find butterflies.”

Owlish amber eyes stared at him with a gaze as penetrating as a dagger.  “Why?”

Once again faced with the eternal question, Solas sympathized with Dorian’s hasty retreat.  He knew the Tevinter mage was exceedingly fond of the serious, inquisitive girl, so she must have been at it for quite some time.  “Do you remember when your siblings were babies, da’len?  Did they often cry?”

“Mamae says babies are learning the world. It’s scary an’ new.  That’s why they cry.”

“What an excellent way to put it!” he agreed, not surprised that Inquisitor Mahariel had so concisely explained things to her daughter.  He had watched the way she spoke to her children, and it was much the same way she spoke to adults– simple, concise, and to the point.  “As we grow older, we learn there are many, many more things in the world than we ever knew.  There will always be new things to learn.”

Ada shot him a dubious look.  “Even Hahren?”

“Even Hahren,” he reassured her, finding that more true by the day.  “When you learn something new, do you like to share it with people?” He asked, already knowing the answer that her sturdy nod affirmed.  “When people feel things, they also like to share them.  That is what poems are for.”

“An’ babies?”

“When a baby is born, it only knows to cry when it is feeling new things, yes?”

“Yes,” Adaia said with a tinge of disgust.  She shook her head with a roll of her eyes, in a rather impressive mimicry of her father Darian.  “One time, one time Tamlen fell, but he wan’t hurt, an’ he cried anyways.  Cried an’ cried.”

“What did your parent do?” he inquired, rather than drawing her away from that tangent.

“Papa,” she corrected him firmly.  “He picked up Tamlen an’ he threw him in the air.”

It wasn’t the point he had been intending to make, but the da’len was, after all, only six years old, and there were limitations to a child’s comprehension.  “By throwing him in the air it made him happy.  Does looking at butterflies make you happy?”

Adaia’s lips pursed into a line as she seriously considered his question.  Her hands reached out, and she took the book from him again.  Solas relinquished it in silence, the pages rustling as Ada flipped through them.  He could practically see her putting together thoughts in her head, fitting together the pieces of their discussion into a wholly new conclusion.  It was a fascinating thing.

Granted, often the conclusion she came to…

“Poems are for reading when you crying,” she decided.

…was vastly different from the one he would expect.

“At times,” he agreed, fighting back the urge to try and explain the nuance to her.

“An’ you cry because things are un’aspected,” she finished.

Well.

That was a more insightful statement than he was anticipating.  “Yes.  When you feel new things, writing or reading a poem can help you learn about those feelings.  Do you understand?”

“I already know butterflies,” she decided, closing the book emphatically.  “It’s not un’aspected.”

“But do you know how to say how you feel when you see a butterfly?  Could you write a poem to tell me how you feel about butterflies?”

“Happy,” she said, closing the book emphatically.  “There!”

“Hmm?”

“There I said it,” Adaia declared, standing on her tip-toes to drop the book on his desk.  She dusted off her hands, and then thumped her fists on her hips.  “It’s easy, Hahren.”

Solas chuckled, amused.  “But could you say it in a poem, da’len?”

Ada stared at him, and then abruptly turned and bolted out of the rotunda, bare feet slapping across the floor.  In confusion, he watched the colorful little blur disappear.  Well.  Perhaps she’d tired of the conversation.  It had never happened before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

With a glance at the book of poetry, he went back to his own reading, shaking his head lightly.

He could not help but feel he’d done a poor job of explaining himself.

Solas had thought that was the end of the conversation, but after dinner a messy, wrinkled piece of paper had been left on his desk.  It appeared to have been written in charcoal, and a great many words had been smudged by a small hand.  Still, it was legible enough, and all the words were spelled correctly– likely someone had helped her.

It read:

There are butterflies in Amaranthine

They are white and some are blue

Daddy and Papa took me up up up the mountain

The butterflies are not here

The sky is blue

The clouds are white

I am only a little sad because

I can see the butterfly colors in the sky

There are no fireflies in the mountain

At night there are stars

So I will not cry

Solas read it over several times.  Strange, the sudden uneasiness he felt from the child’s simple, bare words.  It was an echo of the pain of many a long and sleepless night, thinking of what must be done, and what was to come for him, for this world...  

And for the shadows that remained.

A child’s innocent verse about missing butterflies should not rouse such emotion within him.  Unwilling to examine his own feelings, he put it away.  Still, it haunted him, and he went outside to clear his head in the night air, he stared at the stars that flickered in the darkness and thought of the shadows.  The echoes.

He felt things he was unwilling to feel.

Unexpected things.

It was an excellent poem.

[nbula-rising]

The Road Goes Ever On and On

The Road Goes Ever On and On

The Hobbits' Walking Song (several different versions)

by J. R. R. Tolkien

I. From The Hobbit

Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green And trees and hills they long have known.

II. Two stanzas from The Lord of the Rings

The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say.

The Road goes ever on and on Out from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, Let others follow it who can! Let them a journey new begin, But I at last with weary feet Will turn towards the lighted inn, My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

III. Upon the Hearth the Fire is Red

Upon the hearth the fire is red, Beneath the roof there is a bed; But not yet weary are our feet, Still around the corner we may meet A sudden standing stone That none have seen but we alone. Tree and flower and leaf and grass, Let them pass! Let them pass! Hill and water under sky, Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still around the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate, And though we pass them by today, Tomorrow we may come this way And take the hidden paths that run, Towards the Moon or to the Sun. Apple, thorn and nut and sloe Let them go! Let them go! Sand and stone and pool and dell, Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight. Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed. Mist and twilight, cloud and shade, Away shall fade! Away shall fade! Fire and lamp, and meat and bread, And to bed! And then to bed!

(Alternate verse)

Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate, And though I oft have passed them by, A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

[weaversweek]

"Baby shark"

Into the final week in the #FearOfMu21c project, crowdsourcing the greatest singles of the 21st century. Here’s an index post. And here's one with as many nominations (1) as the entire Ed Sheeran catalogue.

Baby shark - Pinkfong

Throughout this list, I've commented on the techniques of song writing. A good pop song is catchy and memorable and has hooks. A great pop song will use its limited time to go somewhere unexpected. A good song will convey its message; a great song will leave us in no doubt about its meaning. A good song will want to be heard; a great song demands to be heard again.

"Baby shark" is a great song.

"Baby shark" grew out of a campfire song, popular amongst the young people of Korea. The original writers have been lost to time, we do know that versions of the song were around in the late 20th century. Alemuel had a decent hit in 2007 with "Kleiner Hai", a German-language tale of a small shark that grew up and ate a diver. Other translations were made and released in the following years.

Back in Seoul, SmartStudy was founded in 2010. The media company released classic nursery and playground songs from their culture, crafts, puppet videos, and a collection of animations for children. With a pink fox mascot, the Pinkfong brand of animations and phone apps was successful in south-east Asia.

And then the Pinkfong company recorded "Baby Shark". It was successful in the original version, and a "dance version" of the video turned into a phenomenal success, the original clip has been seen an average of one-and-a-half times by every person on the planet.

"Baby shark" is remarkable in many other ways. For instance, it uses a tremendously restricted vocabulary. Eighteen words would be an unremarkable clause in a Lorde song, or a short album title for Fiona Apple. "Baby shark" uses precisely 18 words. Total. Across the entire song, just 18 words.

The song is written in G-major, with a change to C-major for the final stanza - two of the most common musical keys in pop music. To sing "Baby shark", you need a range of just half an octave, so even the worst voice can sing it reasonably (compare with other well-known tunes with minimal range: "Too many broken hearts", "G'd save the queen").

Lyrically, the song tells a story and circles back upon itself: it introduces the participants, encourages us care about them, takes them on a literal journey, and resolves it, imploring us to set out again.

Whether we like it or not, "Baby shark" has become an absolute staple of the pop charts. It's in the top 60 most-streamed music tracks almost every week of the year, and has gone from utter obscurity to something everyone knows.

"Baby shark" is the biggest cultural moment of the past ten years, and fully deserving a nomination for the century's Best 50 Songs. (But just the one.)

[who-needs-words]

@tolkienocweek | day 7: freeform | the Children of Rúmil & family of Curufin

It is commonly said that the children of Rúmil- the Rúmilonnar are as alike in face and skill as they are different in temperament.

This is perhaps a false statement.

While it is true that the eldest sister- Corcondil, named Vorindrúmil by her father and Turuaiwëre by the public had great distaste for other people. She much preferred the company of the birds she worked with. Considered the originator of falconry among the Eldar she was respected by elves across Aman.

It is also true that the younger sister- Turcanna, named Fincarúmil by her father and Tulcaquinga by her husband possessed a louder and boulder disposition than her sister. One of the foremost woodworkers among the Eldar she created many great wood works of beauty and function. One famous creation- the recurve bow and her skill when using it won the heart of her future husband- Curufinwë.

It is true that Corcondil was uncommunicative and Turcanna judgmental of many of her kin- but it would incorrect to say they had nothing in common.

For the two sisters both possessed a pride in their work equal to their renown. Both loved absolutely and once their affection was won where fervent in their loyalty.

Both followed the sons of Fëanor across the Belegaer and through many fights- both against kin and dark force alike. Both took new names in this new world- Corcher for the elder and Túbeng for the younger.

Both found their end in Doriath, fighting to claim what they believed belonged to their kin.

If you could go back to the forks of the road,

Back the long miles you have carried the load;

Back to the place where you had to decide

By this way or that through your life to abide;

Back of the grieving and back of the care,

Back to the place where the future was fair, -

If you were this day that decision to make,

O’ sister in sorrow! which road would you take?

-Nixon Waterman “Which Road?”

[ID: a character edit with fourteen image. Between each image is a styled tear. Overlaid is the above poem; a slightly modified version of the first stanza of Nixon Waterman’s poem “Which Road?”

Image 1: a pale, blood covered hand with a green rings lays dead in orange foliage.

Image 2: A castle on fire.

Image 3: a grey-scale photo of a south Asian women in white. She is facing sideways and stands in a stone hallway, holding a sword. A bird on flight above her.

Image 4: a south Asian women in organe and blue laughing as he holds a small boy in silver.

Image 5: a beach with red water.

Image 6: a dark haired women in a tan tunic shoots a bow.

Image 7: a black and white image of a south Asian women with her arm raised. Small white birds are in flight around her.

Image 8: a close up of a large ship on fire, wreckage is falling into the water.

Image 9: the two trees of Valinor against a dark background.

Image 10: two south Asian women sit next to a bed where an older south Asian man lays.

Image 11: a south Asian wedding. A close up of the bride and groom’s hands intertwined. Both are in white.

Image 12: a close up of a falconer’s hand showing the falcon with its wings spread.

Image 13: A pair of South Asian women- one in light green, one in blue-grey laughing together.

Image 14: 7 swords raised together. /End ID]