#but considering she's one of the most important i think that's apt

[cats-of-eden-valley]

And have the design for Petra that I've been fussing with for a week sffggf

(p. Princess)

[zukosdualdao]

hakoda being a genuinely loving, supportive father to katara and never invalidating her feelings but still comforting her is something that can be so important <3333

especially, as many as have pointed out, as it contrasts with zuko’s hollow reunion with ozai, getting conditional and tenuous praise while still nervous, knowing he’s on thin, dangerous ice, and on his knees in a pose that more or less looks like he is awaiting judgment.

one of the ways this really gets highlighted is that katara spends the episode needling hakoda. just a little, just here and there—he just heard me call you dad didn’t he? and it’s sokka’s invasion plan both spring to mind—and i don’t think even she understands why she’s doing it. she seems sincere and surprised when aang suggests katara’s mad at her dad. but it’s definitely there, and it maybe was there for a while, because there was a weeks-long time skip we didn’t see.

but there is never, not for one moment, a point at which katara thinks needling hakoda in this way might put her in danger, or a point at which the audience is supposed to be worried for her on that level. it doesn’t even cross her mind (because hakoda is a good and non-abusive dad), and the only reason it crosses mine now is because of how it contrasts with the zuko and ozai scene.

there is tension between them, sure—we see hakoda reacting with some sad/confused expressions but still appeasing her—but even as hurt and confused and angry as she does feel, katara feels 100% safe to express it all to hakoda without any fear of retribution or danger.

contrastly, zuko is… you know, i said nervous before, but terrified would be a more apt word. everything from his expression, to the ominous music, to the staging as ozai looms over him is supposed to show us that. he’s terrified. and the audience absolutely is supposed to be worried that zuko is in danger here because we’ve seen why he’s terrified and know he has every reason to be and that the situation is inherently tenuous at best: zuko would never and could never poke at his father, the way katara does hers in this episode, because it wouldn’t be safe to do so.

zuko spends most of his interaction with ozai completely silent, in fact, and when he does speak up—what did you hear?—he’s walking on eggshells to navigate the lie azula’s told, and the danger he’s finding himself in anyway.

also, just to be clear, this is not katara hate, i literally love her. i love that katara gets to act this way because it’s such an honest portrayal of a teenage girl with complicated emotions, and i find her reconciliation scene with hakoda to be one of the most cathartic scenes in the entire show. and like, i’m glad that she never has reason to even consider that hakoda might harm her in some way, because that’s not a situation that any kid should ever be in. the point is the parallel with zuko, who very much does have reason to worry about what his father will do, is as fascinating as it is tragic.

[infoglitch]

Bliss.

Bleiss found herself roaming the halls of beacon as she was trying to think of how to approach her sister without conflict but everything she thought of didn't work.

Weiss was just so fuckin stuck up that's why she cant stand her, she's too fuckin prissy

The thought ran through Bellameres head before shoving it away. She was nearly as grown adult and as much as she loved being right her sister was more important than her ego.

But oum damn it all why the fuck couldn't Weiss just relax around her and not foam at the mouth at everything Bleiss said!

Unbeknownst to Bleiss her feat brought her to a single dorm. Team JNPR's dorm... This was that arc boys team dorm, knowing how he acts it was probably full of losers. Bleiss knocked on the door and soon it opened to reveal the one and only invincible champion, Pyrrha Nikos.

Pyrrha: oh hello Weiss.. what's with the new look?

Bleiss just looked her up and down before trying to speak "calmly" and "dignified" considering this was that overconfident bratty bitch Weiss just LOVED to speak of.

Bleiss: Ms. Nikos apologies for the intrusion-

Pyrrha: I told you already Weiss call me Pyrrha

Bleiss looked at her somewhat annoyed.

Bleiss: apologies Pyrrha but you have me confused for my sister. I am Bellamere Givrése. Weiss' twin.

Pyrrha took a moment before snapping her fingers.

Pyrrha: oh yeah your her "evil twin". I guess on the surface the title is apt.. regardless what do you need Bleiss?

Bleiss: I'm here for Jaune Arc, Ms. ni-

Pyrrha: Pyrrha. I have a name, I'm a person just like you, not some deity.

Bleiss was a bit taken aback, she figured Pyrrha was some snotty stuck bimbo that was used for a one time sponsorship with some weird cereal... That she may have begrudgingly liked.

Bleiss: Pyrrha... So may I please talk with Mr. Arc.

Pyrrha: sure thing.

Pyrrha would lean back and shout into the dorm.

Pyrrha: jaune! You got a visitor. Its weiss' "evil twin".

Jaune: wait what?

Jaune popped his head out from the door frame as he held a box of cereal that Bleiss recognized instantly.

Bleiss: are you... Are you eating pumpkin Pete's?

Jaune: yeah... Any problem with that?

Bleiss: yes. It's the fact no one told me you had some pour me a bowl aswell.

Jaune was a bit surprised but nodded and soon both sat at a table with Bleiss scarfing down her bowl as jaune looked at her in awe.

Jaune: you alright? You act like you haven't in cereal in years

Bleiss stopped and swallowed what was left in her mouth.

Bleiss: right on the money knight, Vacoue ain't got a lot of food, hence the constant delivery of food.. plus the peice of shit who helped my mother conceive me never allowed us to eat "filth's food" .. winter did manage to sneak a few in for all four of us before she got all stick-up-her-ass.

Jaune: that... That surprisingly is sad

Bleiss: yeah.. but ah fuck that boohoo shit and fuck the old bag. He's a daft cunt and a sqwimp.

Jaune: I can agree to that.

Jaune brought up a fist right beside her as Bleiss fist bumped him. Meanwhile Ren Pyrrha and Nora watched in the background.

Pyrrha: I don't get how she's an Evil twin. Most evil thing to her is her language.

Nora: I like her, she seems fun

Ren: I have a bad feeling about her... Something is off with her disposition.. like she's hiding something.

Pyrrha: well if anything happens we'll be prepared... She better stop sizing jaune up though.

Fin

[perfinn]

dinner and diatribes

jaime lannister x oc

wc: 2.7k

summary: a bastard of house manderly, alarra snow, is assigned to keep watch over the northern army’s most valuable captive: ser jaime lannister. jaime supposes she’s as interesting as things are going to get for him here.

cw: very mild and canon typical fatphobia, otherwise nothing really!

read on ao3, divider by saradika

Jaime Lannister does not understand Northmen and their honour. 

They call themselves oathkeepers and no doubt consider themselves the very picture of honour and respect. Yet they treat him, the most important prisoner they’ve ever had their hands on, like a dog. (Actually, they treat their dogs better.) But in the same breath, they treat their bastards with some modicum of respect and give them a seat at their table. At least from what he’s seen. 

Jaime knows that if his father ever deigned to sire a bastard, he’d never so much as acknowledge the child. (He barely considers Tyrion a trueborn child, Jaime thinks rather bitterly.) But northerners, apparently, don't share a similar sentiment. Ned Stark’s bastard had shared a dining room with them when they went north to visit Winterfell, and now a bastard girl has been given the most honourable task of keeping watch over his cell– no, his cage. Cage is a far more apt descriptor for what he finds himself in. 

He’s not sure of her name, but one of those dreadful looking men-at-arms had called her Snow. He supposes he doesn't need to know anything else. Usually, he’d not put too much thought into a bastard. But this one is pretty, for a Northerner. And he has nothing else to do. Nothing else but stare at her and convince himself she’s pretty enough to waste time on. She has in her hands a needlework hoop, a thick fabric and a pattern he can't discern from his current distance. Curiosity born of sheer boredom gnaws at him, similarly to the hunger that gnaws at his stomach. She may be as good a distraction as any from his mounting starvation. Gods, he’ll be a rake by the time he gets out of this. 

“What are you doing?” His voice is rougher than he means it to be, more ragged than his usual charming, smug tone. 

The girl jolts with surprise at hearing his voice, turning her head to face him with her needle still poised in her hand. “I’m… not supposed to talk to you,” she says. Jaime can tell she’s trying to seem tough and stubborn, but it doesn't quite work. 

“No one’s around,” he says, inching forward as much as his chains will let him. “Give a poor man the time of day.”

She stares at him in silence a moment, glancing around to see that their corner of the camp is all but empty, save for a few men-at-arms who’ve dozed off into a half-drunk slumber. The great armies of the north, Jaime thinks with bitter amusement. This is who I let capture me?

The girl moves then from the upside down crate she’s been perched on to get closer to him, kneeling on the cold grass and lifting up the half finished piece to show him. It’s a long pattern of tridents in a sea of blue waves. A small part of a larger piece, Jaime supposes. 

“Tridents,” he says, dully. “What, for where we travel?”

“No,” she says. “It's a gift for my half-brother’s wife. Better to wear a trident than pillows.”

Jaime’s lips quirk in amusement at her disdainful tone. “Your trueborn brother?”

She nods. “Ser Wylis Manderly,” she says. “For his wife Lady Leona.”

“You're a Manderly?” scoffs Jaime, looking her over. “No, I don't believe you. You’re not nearly fat enough.”

The girl shifts, moving back to her crate with a discontented frown. “Well, I’m not a Manderly.”

Jaime frowns when she puts distance between them again. He shifts in an attempt to gain a more comfortable position, but chained to a post as he is, that is something of an impossible task. “I suppose not. You're a Snow. But still, Lord Manderly’s daughter are you?” When she offers him no response, he goes on. “You must look like your mother.”

She lifts her gaze to him with the sort of distasteful scowl only a Northerner could give. “Yes, I do,” she says. 

“I pity your mother,” he says, leaning back and enjoying the way her scowl deepens. “I’ve seen your father. I wouldn't want to have that on top of me.”

The girl scoffs, looking back down at her stitching and continuing the work, though more aggressively this time. 

“Did your mother give you a name?”

“Yes.”

“Is Yes a Northern name?”

“Is infuriating a Western trait?”

Jaime smirks. “I rather think so.”

The girl looks up at him, trying her best to silence him with a glare. “I’m done speaking to you. I wasn't supposed to speak to you at all.”

“Oh, come on,” he pleads. “Please. What harm can I do like this?”

“Wendel says you’ve got a way of talking that tricks people,” she says. “He said I shouldn’t let you do it to me.”

“Yes, I heard him. It’s hard not to hear him,” Jaime grumbles. “Alas, you cannot stop me from talking. I’m quite adept at pestering. I’ll talk until you decide that talking back will shut me up.”

“Do as you wish,” she huffs, looking back down at her hoop. 

Jaime shrugs, taking a dramatic breath in before beginning to speak. “So, who is your mother? A servant? A whore? A lesser noble lady that your father sullied then spurned? Someone else entirely? Although, I cannot think there’s many more options.”

“Seven hells,” the girl curses under her breath.

“I’ll settle for whore,” Jaime decides, making her shift and bristle. “I suppose your name isn’t actually Yes, is it? Is it Jeyne? Seems everyone is named Jeyne. It is as safe a bet as Jon for a male.”

“Gods be good, man!” The girl eventually exclaims. “You are like a high lady’s wretched little yapping dog!”

Jaime grins. That did not take long. “Tell me and I may stop.”

“You may?”

“I cannot make a promise I don’t know that I’ll keep.”

She looks at him, eyeing the grime on his skin with disdain. “My name is Alarra. And my mother was Wynafryd and Wylla’s wetnurse.”

“Ah, a wetnurse! I was remiss not to consider a wetnurse in the list of potential mothers. So, were you born to provide your nieces with more milk?”

“No,” Alarra hisses. “No, I was not. Do not dare imply my lord father forced himself upon her, you wretch.”

“Alright,” he surrenders, raising his hands as far as they’ll go. “Perhaps he was not so fat twenty odd years ago. But she must have been a beauty to make a loyal man stray.”

She glances at him with less venom then, setting the stitching down in her lap. “She is,” she says. “She's not dead, mind. She's in White Harbour, still.”

“And does she approve of her little girl marching south with the great Northern army?” Jaime asks, secretly glad she’s dropped her front of animosity. 

Alarra huffs, smiling wryly to herself. “Not exactly. But I wanted to do something with myself. So I asked Wylis if I could be of any help and he said I could join the army and help around the camp. I did not expect this to be the job I was given, but…”

“I’m a very important charge to have, Lady Snow,” he defends. When she’s not so angry or closed off, she really is quite pretty. 

“I suppose. I even got to speak to King Robb. Or, well… he spoke to me.”

“How exciting. And what did your boy king say?”

“Your king is a boy too,” she points out. “He said, ‘Watch him vigilantly.’.”

“Wow,” remarks Jaime, unimpressed. “You're all but his right hand woman.”

Alarra scoffs. “I didn't say he said much to me. But it is exciting, I suppose, to be acknowledged by a king when one is so far below him.”

Though he can't put his finger on why, Jaime feels discontented by the idea that she thinks herself so below him. It's objectively true that a bastard girl is leagues below a king– even if that king is an insipid child claiming dominion over the North, he’s still the trueborn son of a lord. But he dislikes that Alarra believes it. Has she no fire? No contempt for her station?

“You’re oddly silent,” remarks Alarra after a moment. “I had almost forgotten how you looked when you weren't talking.”

“And I think I have forgotten how you look when you’re not frowning. I much prefer it.”

Alas, it makes her frown again. Jaime wishes, perhaps for the first time in his life, that he had not spoken. 

“Do not mock me,” she says. However, she moves to kneel by his cage again. 

“I’m not. You're pretty for what you are.”

“That's not a compliment.”

Jaime frowns. He thought it was a compliment. He opens his mouth to speak again when they’re interrupted by heaving footsteps and someone clearing their throat. 

Alarra bolts upright, scrambling to her feet and turning to face the intruder. It’s a man-at-arms, carrying a bowl of something steaming in one hand and a cup in the other. He scowls at Jaime, but his face softens a might when he looks at Alarra.

Jaime is reminded of the twisting hunger in his gut as the smell of it reaches his nose. Stew, he thinks, and spiced wine. Gods, he’d debase himself for some of that. 

He can see Alarra smile up at the young man, and Jaime is not ashamed to say that the sight of her smile creasing her cheeks stirs something inside him, and is similarly unafraid to account this to the fact that she’s the only woman he’s seen apart from Catelyn Stark– who he can't find himself attracted to for sheer dislike of her. 

“That smells good,” says Alarra, approaching the man. “Better than what we’ve had.”

“Finally had a chance to send hunters out,” he says, handing her the bowl. “It's rabbit stew. Were you talking to ‘im?” 

Alarra glances back as the man jerks his head in Jaime’s direction. “Only in hopes of shutting him up,” she mumbles.

“Well, you’ll want to be careful with that one,” says the young man, northern accent thick to the point that Jaime can barely understand him. “‘Eard the others saying he’ll get in your ‘ead.”

“My half brother told me so,” she nods, taking the bowl and cup from him with quiet gratitude. “You needn’t worry. I’ve a strong resolve.”

“Aye,” says the man-at-arms, smiling at her. Jaime is amazed that he does not spit at the bastard girl and instead seems to look fondly upon her. “You’re stubborn blood. Still, don't you let ‘im make you any promises. Gods know he won't keep ‘em.”

Alarra offers the young man-at-arms a tense smile. “Is there any food for him?”

“He’ll get fed when the king’s wolf has had ‘is fill.”

Alarra nods, thanking him again for the food and going to sit back down after he's given her a gentle pat on the shoulder. Jaime watches Alarra, for once silent. He leans his head back against the post behind him, inhaling deeply like the smell of the stew might fill his belly. 

Alarra glances at Jaime a few times as she eats, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Jaime wagers a few silent guesses as to what she wants to say– Why did you kill the king? Did you really fuck your sister? Are you going to promise me gold so I’ll let you go?

“Has anyone fed you?” she eventually says, and Jaime is stumped into stunned silence for just a moment. 

He flounders for a response for a moment before landing, quite eloquently, on, “Er, no.”

Alarra looks down at her food contemplatively, then back at him. He’s stunned she’s even considering it. Thus far the best food he’s been given was rotting bread and dirty water. Jaime doesn't want a bastard girl’s pity, but he thinks he may just need it. He’d beg if she asked him to. Hells, he might do it unprompted. 

“When I’ve had my fill,” Alarra begins, glancing around. “You can have the rest.”

“Really?”

Alarra nods. “I’ll need to hand feed you. I can't undo your shackles.”

“At this point I’d let you spit it, chewed up, into my mouth and thank you for it,” he says. Alarra snorts a laugh, covering her mouth. A smile tugs at Jaime’s lips, despite the hunger and the cold, the sound of her laughing makes him feel just that bit warmer. 

“I’ll use the spoon,” she assures, smiling at him. Jaime wagers a guess that she won't need so much more to have her fill. Though much of her is hidden in heavy woollen fabrics and furs, he can tell she's a woman with some shape to her. She doesn't look like she’s ever starved, which he supposes is more than some bastards can say. She finishes her last few bites before shifting closer to him, gesturing for him to come that bit closer. 

Jaime comes forward as far as the chains will let him. He ought to be humiliated, he knows, at the prospect of being hand fed by a bastard girl, but it smells so good he cannot find it in him to mind. First she lifts the cup to his lips, tipping warm spiced wine into his mouth that he drinks greedily. The wine is dry and bitter beneath the spices, certainly no fine Arbour vintage. Yet, Jaime feels it must be the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

Alarra lowers the cup before he can drink his fill and a pathetic sort of whine leaves Jaime’s throat. Alarra frowns at him. “You’ll need something to wash it down,” she chastises. 

“I’m not a child,” Jaime says sharply. “I don't need a bastard girl telling me when I can and can't drink.” 

Alarra then deigns to poke him gently on the forehead, carefully avoiding the wound there. (Which Jaime thinks may be beginning to fester.) Jaime is too stunned to even protest. She lifts the bowl then, filling a spoonful for him. “You’re lucky I’m feeding you at all.”

Jaime presses his lips together, leaning his forehead against the bars. “You’re a strange sort of woman.”

“Why?” She lifts the spoon to his lips, and Jaime greedily takes it into his mouth. He groans at the rich taste of the sauce, the tender meat of the rabbit which melts in his mouth– again, not nearly the finest food he’s ever eaten, but it tastes to him now like the seventh heaven.

He chews and swallows quickly, clearing his throat before answering her. “You don't seem particularly bitter about being a bastard. You're kind. Doubt you’d ever admit it though.”

“This is not kindness,” she says, giving him another spoonful. “This is decency.”

Jaime makes the choice to savour this bite. He can see there's not much in the bowl, perhaps two more spoonfuls. He ought to make it last. He chews it slowly, watching her face. There's a crease between her brows as she frowns quizzically. Jaime wonders if she were to relax, would there be a line there from how often she frowns? Northerners do so much frowning, perhaps indeed this crease is the face she was born with. 

“Decency indeed,” he hums, contemplative. “People are very kind to you for what you are. Even Lady Cat did not spit at you.”

“A bastard is best if he’s useful,” she says quietly. “I’ve proven myself so as often as is possible. I do not laze about and expect for people to respect me because my father is a lord.”

“Yes, but even Catelyn?”

Alarra smirks, scraping him up another spoonful. “I repaired a rip in her ladyship’s dress faster than she’s ever seen, so clean she could not tell it was ever ripped at all.”

Jaime smiles. “A useful bastard indeed.”

She feeds him the last two spoonfuls and Jaime closes his eyes a few moments to savour the lingering taste on his tongue. He opens his eyes, gazing quietly at Alarra as she looks down to grab the cup of wine. He wonders, briefly, if he's ever seen a woman so beautiful. It feels as though Cersei couldn't hold a candle to the way Alarra looks in the waning torchlight.

(Some part of him is certain that this feeling is only so potent because she’s been the one to ease the ache in his shrinking stomach, but a larger part cannot believe anything but that she's some rugged sort of angel.)

She brings the cup back to his lips, offering him the smallest of smiles. “And you? You’ve been decent to me for what I am.”

“Well,” he says, swallowing the last mouthful with a contented smile. “I’m finding you’re not so terrible.”

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

I'm late today, and missed Sunday; sorry, all, it's been a long week for me.

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

She jerked her head up, barely missing his chin, and stared at him; a single tear escaped to draw a bright trail down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, then cupped her face in his palm. "I've talked to you about things that no one—I mean no one else knows about. You know everything that's important to know about me, good and bad, and if there's something I forgot, I'll tell you. Because I trust you. And because I want you to know." He wrapped his arms around her a little more securely; not so tightly that she couldn't escape if she wanted to, but enough to emphasize how much he loved her, loved having her close. Pressed his head against hers, breathing in the faint scent of roses from her hair; he just wanted to take a quiet moment to appreciate something that mere hours ago had been a distant dream.

Slowly, he felt her relax in his arms—not all the way, but enough that he thought they'd gotten past that particular worry. "I never thought of it that way," she murmured. "I just—you didn't have any choice in it. Wouldn't have blamed you for getting mad about it."

Sam took a deep breath, deciding to just face that problem head-on. "My temper scare you?"

"No." Cait sounded pretty definite about that. "I mean, I know you have one, but you seem to have good coping mechanisms for it. And the few times I've picked up on it getting loose—well, I figure Lillian would drive even the most controlled person to fits, so…" She shrugged, and he chuckled at her apt description.

"I was angry at the world in my younger days," he admitted, "but when Cora was born, I knew I had to get a handle on it. Ended up talking to someone about it for a couple years; got rid of some of it and better tools to deal with the rest." Now it was her turn to reach up and lay a comforting hand against his cheek, and he made a soft hum of enjoyment. "Mmm. Did me a lot of good." He turned his head to look her in the eye. "Regarding this—connection, I don't see any reason why I should be upset with you. Not like you did it on purpose, right?" She shook her head. "And it's not hurting either of us—" a sharp spike of worry jolted through him "—it's not hurting you, is it?"

He felt her tense right back up. "I don't… think so…" she faltered. "It's always seemed… right. Like—like that's how I'm supposed to be." She let out a bitter-half laugh. "Should I be scared that it doesn't scare me? And it's—it's all tangled up with the way I feel about you. Loving you." She ducked her head, half-burying her face in his shoulder, a note of shame entering her voice. "I've—I've never felt like this. About anyone." Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Love, desire, any of it—I never even dreamed it was possible. Not for me." He could hear the tears fogging up her voice. "Never thought I could be this—happy."

Sam just held her, rubbing his hand comfortingly up and down her arm and back, and letting his feelings do the communicating while he considered what she'd said. Since their first visit to Neon, he'd been keeping an ear out for things that might indicate one of her mental landmines. The most glaring sign was when she hadn't thought about something, which meant her comment about love and desire was waving all the red flags. It didn't surprise him—he already knew home and family were on the list—so he chose his words carefully. "Then I guess it's a good thing we both want the whole package, isn't it?" He smoothed her hair out of her face, relishing both the silken feel of it on his fingers and the soft sound of happiness she let out at his touch. "Gives us time to court each other right and proper." And time to work through the things someone didn't want you to know.

"Are you sure?" Cait whispered. "You couldn’t have expected me to be so… high-maintenance.” But Sam was also paying attention to how she was almost buried against him, like she was trying to soak in as much of him as she could. He wrapped his arm a little more tightly around her, reassuringly.

"Not gonna lie," he admitted, "if you were to say, 'Make love to me right now, you sexy beast,' I'd happily oblige you." She made a choked little noise that he thought was a laugh. "But Cat—I love you as you are. If all this is new to you, you should have the opportunity to enjoy it, figure out what appeals to you. I don't mind if we take some extra time to make you comfortable; it'll be time well-spent." He smiled down at her. "And even if this is all you ever want, then it's still more than I ever expected to find."

"I, um, don't think that'll be a problem…" she said, more than a little hesitantly.

"Dare I ask?" The question of whether he desired her, of course, had been answered for quite some time; his libido perked right up at even the hint that she returned his interest, but he shoved it right back down. Time enough for that later. "You've piqued my curiosity," he added.

Cait tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "I've had some… interesting… dreams lately." She grimaced a little—he was prepared to deal with her embarrassment, but she didn't seem embarrassed so much as uncertain. "It—took me a while to figure out why."

Sam waited a few moments. "You gonna finish that thought, darlin', or just leave me danglin'?" he teased her gently.

"Because I love you," she said softly. "And because… you see a person when you look at me." She closed her mouth tightly, as if afraid she'd said too much, the specter of what she hadn't said hanging in the air between them.

"Yeah," he said, keeping his eyes level on hers. "I do. A person who managed the epic feat of getting me to fall in love with her. A person who deserves every bit of happiness I can give her. A woman who loves me right back." He felt himself smile again at the thought of it. "Truth be told, I've had a few interesting dreams about you, too." That brought a blush to her cheeks, and she ducked her head back into his shoulder. "Hell," he let out a sigh. "Too much too soon?"

She shook her head quickly and muttered something that sounded like youdidnthavetotellmethat.

"Cait," he said softly. "Just say it."

"I already knew," she blurted out. "You've been having them since Denebola." When—oh, hell. When he'd realized that he loved her. When he'd pulled away from her, terrified of how far and how fast he'd fallen. When she'd retreated to the Eye, claiming nightmares.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice gone rough and tight with contrition. "I should've told you. I was…" he let out a sigh. "I was just afraid, because happened so fast. It was like I turned around and you were… so much more than I ever dreamed possible." He smoothed his thumb across her cheek again. "Why the blush?"

"Felt like I was eavesdropping," she muttered. "I mean, the inside of your head's supposed to be private. Surface emotions are one thing, but dreams… they're harder to keep out when I'm also asleep."

"Mmm. I can see that," he replied. Funny, though, how it didn't bother him one bit. "I meant what I said, love. Not going to blame you for what you can't help." And he couldn't help but tease her a little bit, try and lighten the mood. "And since you've already shared mine, we could always discuss your dreams." He grinned. "A little more of that turnabout and fair play business."

"You jerk," Cait started laughing, and he watched the faint hues in her eyes shift back to a good-humored blue-green. "You would, too, wouldn't you?"

"'Course I would," Sam said easily. "I have standards, you know. If dream-me isn't doing the job properly, well," he gave her a smirk. "Someone's got to rise to that challenge."

Her laughs turned into fierce little giggles—the double entendre clearly wasn't lost on her—and it purely warmed his heart to see her unreservedly happy for once. Her giggles faded into a bright smile and an intent gaze; her hand stole up to touch his face again, tracing the line of his cheek and caressing down the line of his jaw. He let out a little sigh of pleasure at the touch. "So soft," she said, in a voice of wonder. Her fingers trailed down toward his lips, and then paused—he could feel them tremble. "Sam… can I—" She breathed in unsteadily. "I'd really like to kiss you," she whispered.

[speedwalkingtheplanes]

Willow characters as D&D classes and races not because I can't sleep, but because I don't want to write tomorrow's session

Unlike my Percy Jackson version of this post, Willow has pretty clear ties to D&D, especially the 2022 show, so I'm not really going to be changing characters' races for this list. For all intents and purposes, they could be played in the world they're in, rather than adapted into a high-fantasy setting like I did with PJO. That said, I will be taking a couple of liberties with it, and trying to make it at least a little interesting. Same rules as the last one: minimal reflavoring, and no hombrew or unearthed arcana.

Willow Ufgood: Halfling Transmutation Wizard. Yeah, I know that all of the magic-users in the Willow-verse are referred to as sorcerers, but I think there's some nuance between how they use magic, and Willow, despite his intuition, certainly does not find his magic born within him. He doesn't necessarily have a natural gift for it, but rather finds careful study and many of years practice aiding him in becoming the magician he is by the time of the series, not to mention receiving a spellbook at the end of the movie. I struggled for a little while to decide what his subclass is, as we only really see him doing generalist magic. That said, war magic or order of scribes are out, seeing as he isn't a battlemage at all, nor does his spellbook play as important of a role as a scribe's would. So, considering his feats of returning Raziel to her human form, and restoring the Galladoorn warriors, transmutation feels like the most apt option for him.

Madmartigan: Human Swashbuckler Rogue/Battle Master FIghter. I had initially thought Madmartigan would be a champion, but thinking back on his fight against the Nockmaar soldiers, I think it's fair to say that he exemplifies the Art of War qualities that are so prevalent in the subclass. Swashbuckler is much more clear-cut. He nails one-on-one combat, and certainly has the high charisma necessary for the class, not to mention how he aids Franjean in picking the lock on the cage.

Sorsha Tanthalos: Human Hexblade Warlock. We don't see a lot of Sorsha's capabilities, so I'm gonna play flavor far more than mechanics with her. We know that she is a skilled fighter, and we see some of that, but I like the idea that her patron is her mother, and her pact ends after Bavmorda's defeat. She's certainly charismatic enough to trick Madmartigan into letting down his defenses enough to allow her a chance to escape from him, and was seemingly quite the leader in the quest for Elora, so I don't feel that this is too much of a stretch.

Rool/Franjean: Fairy Fey Wanderer Rangers. These two are interesting. I had almost made them gnomes, but I think them being fairies themselves (alongside the other Brownies) makes a bit more sense. They're definitely rangers, what with their affinity with animals, tracking abilities, and association with other fey creatures.

Airk Thaughbaer: Human Crown Paladin. We don't see a lot of Airk, but given that Madmartigan named his son after him, I think it's reasonable to put him on this list. He's kind of the ideal Galladoorn knight, fighting for country and fellow man against the forces of darkness. While I definitely think he's a paladin, other sublcasses might work for him.

Bavmorda: Tiefling Undead Warlock. Bavmorda being a tiefling is really only because she has the name "The Demon Queen." (And yes, I know that tieflings are infernal and not abyssal, but there isn't an abyssal race in D&D, so this is what I've got.) Her class and subclass seem pretty clear-cut. We find out in the series that she had made a pact with the Withered Crone, so she's clearly a warlock, though whether she's undead or undying is up for debate. In all honestly, they really aren't any different, and undead is just better.

General Kael: Human Berzerker Barbarian. Kael's so cool, but we also don't see much in the way of his combat ability. He's certainly very skilled, and he can also take a beating (the man took a sword to the face, and then kept fighting after getting stabbed), not to mention his shouting about "Now you die!" That feels very much like a raging barbarian to me.

Kit Tanthalos: Human Champion Fighter. Champion was my first choice for Kit, but I thought that I should dig deeper for her and kept trying to find something else. I've seen people say that she's a swashbuckler, or a battle master. I've even seem some people say that by the time she has taken the Kymerian Cuirass, she's gained three levels in artificer and become an armorer. And I hate all of that, because it's all too damn much. I think Kit's most important arc as a character is learning that she isn't the invnincible fighter she thought she was, and that her main character syndrome doesn't actually make her the main character. As far as that goes, I came back to champion, because I think the simplest fighter subclass conveys that journey really well.

Airk Thanthalos: Valor Bard/Oathbreaker Paladin. Airk is really interesting to me from a character creation perspective. He's clearly high charisma and low wisdom, and he isn't too shabby with a sword. He could very easily just be a paladin, and the Crone's corruption caused him to be an oathbreaker, but he's just too charming for me to not make him a bard too.

Jade Claymore: Human Samurai Fighter/Devotion Paladin. I've seen a lot of people say that Jade is a battle master, and while I see it, I think Samurai is a significantly more interesting choice for her. She's definitely not an average knight, and we can clearly see her wisdom in her fighting and her decision-making. As for paladin, Graydon aptly points out that her devotion is her driving force on the quest. If it's that important, than I'd say it counts as an oath.

Scorpia: Human Scout Rogue. There isn't a lot to go on for this one, unfortunately. She's clearly well-versed enough in combat to beat Jade, though I'd argue that she's simply a higher level. Being a scout would be beneficial for the forest-swelling Bone Reavers, and we see her have some skill with a throwing knife, which feels much like a roguish quality to me. (Ignore that Airk Thaughbaer also kills someone by throwing a knife.)

Thraxus Boorman: Human Berzerker Barbarian/Swashbuckler Rogue. I figured that Boorman was a barbarian/rogue early on, and was pleased when I saw some other people saying the same thing. I don't think Berzerker really fits him, but the only other non-magical barbarian sublcass is battle rager, and that fits him even less. (Seriously, there needs to be more non-magical barbarian subclasses.) It is possible that he never made it to three levels of barbarian, and just has a one or two level dip. (If i were to optimize him, it'd be two levels. That way reckless attack can be used to proc sneak attack at any opportunity.) I also don't think his rage is purely angry, but instead reflavored into sorrow that is masked with humor. As Madmartigan's squire, it makes sense that they would have the same rogue sublcass, and we definitely see Boorman's charisma shine through the series. Plus, like Madmartigan, he can pick locks. Ish.

Graydon Hastur: Human Lore Bard. Yeah, he's said to be a sorcerer in the show, but the man casts magic with his flute and gives other characters inspiring pep talks. If that doesn't make him a bard, I don't know what does. College of lore because he's very booksmart, and collects dead languages and ancient stories like an old lady collects little spoons.

Elora Danan: Protector Aasimar Divine Soul Sorcerer. And finally, the chosen one herself. I really wanted to make her wild magic, but divine soul unfortunately just makes more sense. I feel that of the sorcerers in the franchise, she's the only one that's actually a sorcerer. We don't know anything about how Raziel's magic works, so there's really no figuring her out, and Cherlindrea is more of an archfey than anything else. Elora, on the other hand, has an inborn aptitude for magic. She still has to practice, and reads Willow's spellbook, but that's more about control than power for her. As the child of the prophecy, and the one destined to defeat evil and unite the lands, it makes sense to me that she would be an aasimar, a divine being imbued with the power of celestials. She also has the chef feat.

There's certain characters that I left out, either because we don't see enough of them for me to properly gauge what they might be, or I think they'd be better with monster stat blocks than character sheets. But maybe I'll revisit this later and figure out characters like Silas, Lilli, and Ballantine. In any case, let me know if you disagree, I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks.

[wonder-worker]

Elizabeth Woodville and Elizabeth of York: Queenship

"As an English queen consort, Elizabeth of York, like her mother, had a web of family connections that became the focus of her major patronage activities" - Michelle L. Beer

"After the safe delivery of their eldest sons, both queens Elizabeth gave thanks by founding chapels. Elizabeth Woodville's was in fact eight years after the event and probably as much a thanksgiving to Westminster Abbey for sanctuary as to God for her son. The chapel was attached to the old Lady Chapel of the abbey and dedicated to St Erasmus, a saint invoked against birth pains as well as patron of sailors which made him an unusually apt dedicatee given the king's absence abroad at the time of Prince Edward's birth. Elizabeth of York's foundation was more immediately linked to the birth of Arthur at Winchester, a site chosen for her lying-in by Henry to associate his first-born with the legendary king after whom he was to be named. Here Elizabeth founded a chapel dedicated to Our Lady." - J.L. Laynesmith

"In 1499 Elizabeth of York wrote to the prior of Christ Church, Canterbury, asking for a literal carte blanche of presentation to the highly desirable, centrally located living of All Hallows, Gracechurch Street, London, for which Elizabeth Woodville and her husband had also wanted preferment" - Derek Neal

"Both queens were granted rights of presentation to canonries and prebends in the royal chapel of St. Stephen, Westminster." - Derek Neal.

"Most of the border patterns (of The Fifteen Os, printed by William Caxton and co-sponsored by Elizabeth of York and Margaret Beaufort) are of stylized flowers, mythical beasts, and semi human creatures, quite possibly reused from other books, but one is of a vase of gillyflowers, the emblem of Elizabeth Woodville, whose family had been such important patrons of Caxton, and just over half-way up the margin these flowers lead into a rose branch, crowned with the emblem of her daughter's marriage, the Tudor rose, as if in reference to Elizabeth of York's adoption of her mother's patronage." - J.L. Laynesmith

"In 1480 she (Elizabeth Woodville) petitioned Pope Sixtus IV to allow her subjects to enjoy the indulgences attached to the newly re-established feast of the Visitation, even if the office was recited in private. She also expressed to the Pope her desire for the 'devotion of the faithful of the realm for the [Ave Maria] to be increased more and more'. The Pope obliged by attaching indulgences to the use of the Psalter of the Blessed Virgin Mary and to the recitation of the Ave Maria at each Angelus bell. He also dictated that copies of the letter granting these indulgences be exhibited across the country, thereby ensuring that everyone knew not only of the opportunities to gain indulgences but also of the queen's intercessory role in their spiritual welfare. … Elizabeth's daughter, who of course shared her name saint, was apparently inspired by her mother to develop the devotions still further. Following her petition in 1492, the Pope granted 300 days of pardon to anyone reciting the salutation three times at each tolling of the Angelus bell.” - J.L. Laynesmith

"Elizabeth Darcy, the lady mistress of the nursery for Elizabeth Woodville's children, was appointed to the same post for Elizabeth of York's children, probably as a result of the younger queen's childhood affection for Darcy." - J.L Laynesmith

A couple of reasons why this interests me:

- Elizabeth Woodville was the first English queen since Philippa of Hainault to raise royal daughters, with almost a century and five other queens in between them. I don't think there's ever been such a huge gap in that regard before, which means that Elizabeth would not really had any direct precedent or source of inspiration to follow beyond what was ideally, conventionally expected. Clearly, judging by the fact that her daughter was widely considered a successful queen and emulated several of her mother's own activities, Elizabeth did her job well.

- There's a strange, persistently recurring trend in historical fiction and general histories that tends to make the relationship between the two Elizabeths contentious and/or distant, or tends to emphasize their polarity in whatever capacity, or tends to prioritize Elizabeth of York's relationship with her uncle Richard III and his wife Anne Neville than her own mother (and her own father, tbh). This speaks volumes of the vilification and negative depictions of Elizabeth Woodville in contemporary media, but also the tendency to use Elizabeth of York as a cipher for historians' own thoughts about historical figures rather than a historical figure in her own right. This is particularly prevalent in Ricardian and Ricardian-leaning media, the latest shining example being Alison Weir's "The Last White Rose". On the other hand, a few sympathetic Tudor analyses tend to (understandably) focus on re-evaluating Elizabeth's relationship with Margaret Beaufort and debunking the irritating misconception that they didn't get along. But in the process, Elizabeth of York's relationship and inspiration from her own mother gets lost and forgotten in the mix, when it should in fact be highlighted the most. It's frustrating, because Elizabeth Woodville was evidently her daughter's most important role model: Elizabeth of York was regularly at her mother's side during her childhood, observed her successful queenship for 17 years, and, as we can see, directly mirrored several of her mother's activities during her own tenure as queen. Interestingly, as the 5th quote shows, even when she co-sponsored a book by William Caxton with Margaret, Caxton himself clearly associated Elizabeth of York's patronage to her mother's influence. It's a shame that only a few specific historians tend to focus on the connection between mother and daughter, as I think there's a wealth of analyses to be made on it.

- While both Elizabeths were English queens, with a web of family connections that they used to their and the crown's benefit, their situations were definitely not the same and should not be treated as such. Their different status prior to their marriage meant that their respective families and actions were always going to be viewed and treated differently, for one. More importantly, though, Elizabeth Woodville was the first Englishwoman to be crowned queen. Her English family's advancement and involvement in national and local politics was to be expected, but it's important to keep in mind that it was not precedented. It simply hadn't happened before, and it wasn't expected to happen again. Elizabeth Woodville was very much a novel queen in that regard; certain aspects of her queenship were very unique and unprecedented for that time, and she was the one who established the precedent of using her homeborn family as a network of politics and patronage that all later English consorts followed. In contrast, by the time Elizabeth of York became queen, this was a comparatively more established and familiar practice, followed by two former consorts, her mother and Anne Neville. So, even apart from their differing status and the propaganda against them, it makes sense that their activities were regarded differently, both by contemporary detractors and subsequent historians. There's also the fact that Elizabeth Woodville and her relatives had far more direct power and involvement with the Crown Prince's council, household and administration than Elizabeth of York and her relatives did, which we know massively contributed to the commentary and/or criticism the former received.

Sources:

Michelle L. Beer, "Queenship at the Renaissance Courts of Britain: Catherine of Aragon and Margaret Tudor, 1503-1533"

J.L. Laynesmith, "The Medieval Queens: English Queenship 1445-1503"

Derek Neal, "The Queen's Grace: English Queenship 1464-1503"

[scndbrn]

                                                                   𝑨𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫  &&  𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀

tl ; dr  : he’s asexual but not sex repulsed , does find aesthetic attraction in other people , and only consents to sexual relationships with those he has a strong romantic attachment to ( good personality and strong intellect generally required ! )

i’m not usually one to make super long-winded meta posts about things , but being that this is something pretty important to me ( and also something i’ve noticed i’ve gotten a lot of questions about ) , i thought i’d give a go at discussing  aemond  &&  asexuality  . 

please note that some of the info i am about to dump on this topic is based solely off of  my  own  experience  , and the research i have done to discover my own identity. it is  NOT  meant to generalize the experiences of those on the ace spectrum ; it is simply meant to explain how this identity pertains to aemond , and how he experiences the world. :) 

first and foremost :  yes  ,  aemond  does  have  libido  . he can and does become aroused , and does experience and enjoy physical pleasure. that is to say , he  is  not  sex repulsed – meaning that he is not adverse to engaging in sexual activity , and as many of you know , can be rather enthusiastic about hitting the bedroom with his romantic partners. sometimes asexuality can be conflated with never having or wanting sex ( which  CAN  BE  true in some a-spec identifying folks ! ) , but in aemond’s experience , this is not the case. it can be said , however , that his sex drive is  low  compared to others around his age. 

with that in mind , let’s dive a little deeper :  does  aemond  find  others  attractive  ? the short answer : yes. the long answer : yes , but only to an extent. there are a series of traits that can be found in both men and women that aemond finds aesthetically pleasing , in the way that someone might find a certain painting style appealing , or might feel certain flowers are more beautiful than others.  there  is  no  sexual  desire  attached  to  this  kind  of  attraction  . so , for instance , aemond may look at alys rivers and think the dress she’s wearing is gorgeous on her , or that her eyes are the most beautiful he’s ever seen ; however , the fact that he’s found physical attributes about her which he is drawn to  does  not  indicate any desire to have sex with her. let’s go back to the flower analogy : you might think a rose that you stumbled upon in a botanical garden is the most awe-inspiring thing you’ve ever seen , but you don’t want to fuck it. aemond is like that , but with people , too.  

it is here that i will briefly note :  personality  and  intellect  are  far  more  attractive  to  aemond  than  any  physical  attribute  will  ever  be  , especially when considering a potential partner !

so  under  what  circumstances  does  aemond  get  it  on  ?  a great question ! if you are familiar with the term  ‘  demisexual  ’  , that would be a pretty good way to think of it ( though i would characterize aemond as being so far on the extreme end of disinterested in sex , asexual is the more apt identifier in my opinion ) ! in plain terms :  aemond  will  enthusiastically  consent  to  sexual  relations  with  those  he  has  formed  a deep  (  romantic  )  connection  to  . for the one-eyed prince ,  LOVE  AND  SEX  are deeply and inherently connected ; all that to say , he could have  love  without  sex  , but he could not have  sex  without  love  . i would attribute some of this to the values and belief systems he was raised with , but i will also say that , considering the world which he lives in , aemond has an overall pretty progressive view on sex. if a man can have women outside of marriage without repercussion , why then should it be any different for a woman ? while he might have no interest in any of this himself , he does not externalize his views and experiences on others by any means.

and finally , i want to address this :  in  your  headcanon  ,  did  aemond  lose  his  virginity  at  the  age  of  13  as  is  implied  by  the  show  ? i think you can guess my answer , and it is  NO  .  yes  , aegon  did  take aemond to the brothel on his thirteenth name day , and  yes  , aemond  did  go to a room with one of the working girls that night. he won’t lie to you , he was curious at first , and the girl which was selected for him by his brother was indeed very pretty , but when she dropped her robe , straddled his lap , and asked the  sweet  little  prince  what he wanted , aemond promptly responded , ❛  𝐈  𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍  𝐓𝐎  𝐌𝐘  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒  ,  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐈  𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐌𝐘  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋  𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍  𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄  .  ❜  the girl was duly compensated for her time ( which she mostly spent bored out of her mind as aemond recounted his current studies to her ) , and to this day aegon still doesn’t know the truth about that night.

so yeah , that’s it , that’s the post. if you’ve made it this far , thank you for reading ! as i said before , this is very personal to me ; asexual characters are not easy to find in general , but especially in a series rife ( and often gratuitous ) with sex. i think this is part of what attached me to aemond so quickly , and i’m so glad that all of the lovely people that i’ve spoken to so far have embraced this aspect of him and have been so willing to learn and work with me to develop some amazing plots && dynamics ! so thanks again , and outside of an ic response , i swear you’ll never hear me talk about  anything  this much ever again !

[datastate]

for the ask game - 3, 26, 27 :]

3 : which of the characters has your favorite design?

MAPLE!!! hands down. i love her very much. she was the first one who i actually saw in-game and my thought was 'cute...' - but! kanna is a close-second under that lens. i suppose my only issue w her design is how much more green there is, w little complementary color? :0 i really do enjoy designs that add in a bit more pink for her!! it adds enough variety to the palette to help her stand out. though i must admit, i'd still be biased toward maple because i really like dark reds/purples/blues contrasted with white :D

however, as for what it means for the characters, i also really do enjoy kai's! both his & reko's designs were what immediately drew me to them; i was immediately fascinated by how - despite being among colorful characters - their designs were primarily dark/with occasional red. i think for kai in particular, it does a nice job of showing how. simply he tends to 'live' & what he also asks others to focus upon: the gift the chidouins gave him. for as long as he lives, he has this to show for the chidouins' kindness of allowing him a life. everything else is meant to easily blend into darkness, &. it's difficult to describe, but i really enjoy fanart where this is. emphasized?! in the sense that the apron is what draws someone's eyes to it, but when you look just behind that, you can easily tell how. restrictive the uniform is by contrast. it's really cool to me.

26 : which YTTS pov are you most excited for and whose fondness event do you want to see with them?

i'm really excited for reko's!!! specifically - i really look forward to seeing her event with sara :'D (& alice of course, but. gestures. i'm very afraid. although there's very little you can do 'wrong' with that one as opposed to the other two povs' favored persons...)

i just. am truly fond of how reko tried to support sara before the room of lies switch happened; and afterward, how reko tried doing her best to also uphold the strength she saw sara strive for. it's less pronounced because we play as sara, but. i still appreciate the times that other adults, such as reko & q-taro & kai (which are other fondness events i'm really looking forward to), try to acknowledge/praise sara for her strength while also trying to reminder her that people will be here when she falls. they're so close to taking the responsibility from her, but for one reason or another, just... cannot. and don't wish to dismiss sara's ability (which is an insecurity sara does have, being one who must uphold responsibilities expected of her). q-taro steps up where he can, usually requesting keiji's help, and genuinely tried to comfort sara throughout ch2-1 - a lot of his attempts to help sara and make things right after shin's injustice was off-camera. and reko unfortunately wasn't given much time to really help out, what with the lingering disorientation from being captured. & of course, kai is. well. as soon as he no longer had that facade to keep up, he was dead as hell. SAD!

but i digress!!! i really enjoy reko's humor & easy-going personality, and i would love to see more of her dynamic with sara in a more casual setting; i think she'd do really well at encouraging sara and helping her come to terms with the fact that... even if her future isn't as 'set' as sara expects it to be, that's not anything necessarily bad. in a similar sense to kazumi, reko's also gone through a lot that she never expected she'd have to endure, but has come out a better person by the end of it. maybe kazumi's tale is more apt considering it had to deal with academic/future plans; but it's also very important for sara to remember that she does have the chance to really dig into hobbies and find joy in it... that, in a sense, it's important to have these things on the side that you enjoy and keep them out of a professional setting too. it'd be great to have work you love, of course! but reko had to fight to actually return to what she first loved about music at all, had to learn all over again what it meant to her, because of the expectations in the professional field. sara should have a hobby where she can let loose, people she can relax and be herself around, without having to keep those expectations... constantly using your show persona just makes it harder to connect with people. even if it's easier, it's worse for you in the long-run because... no one would get the chance to know you, what you love.

i just think it'd be really sweet for reko to show that balance of entertainment & professional future that sara wants. sara already has those sorts of reminders with jou, but it's still. very important to see it from someone who's gone through it and now knows what she's doing! jou's more someone who 'goes with the flow' and generally attends clubs to prepare for... well, anything. he wants to be a jack of all trades, in case anything he pursues falls through. it's very unstable and scary to live like that, even if he puts on his usual carefree front - cherishing the moment to moment. sara's mind doesn't often. work like that. and if she were to have more serious conversations about her future, i'm sure this would be very important to her and also bring her comfort for jou's future, too...

(& i know it's unrealistic, but... i'd really enjoy a q-taro and anzu fondness event. i'm writing one myself because i don't expect we'll ever be able to have those personal interactions with the dolls, or at least... not one that handles anzu's character well (considering the ministory forgot her introduction), but i do like thinking abt them as well :D)

(&& unrelated to the question but i'm SO sad we're not getting any further kai & mishima content. that's it. withering and dithering eternally now... it's okay i'll make more events in my brain.)

27 : whose miniepi do you want to see next?

nankidai please give me more kazumi lore please please please i've never asked before. how and why does he own an atelier. please tell me specifically what direction he was overly-ambitious in, and his crash fall and burning reaction to his own overestimation. i can already assume most of this but i honestly just want to see more of him i've NEVER asked before. pretty please.

[nemrut]

Manhua/Light Novel: Release That Witch

Been reading this since covid started and recently caught up.

Anyway, Fangkai Nage Nuwu or Release That Witch by the writer/artist duo Er Mu and Zhi Hua Wenhua is about an Engineer from I think modern day China who one day transmigrates into the body of Roland Wimbledon, the fourth son of the royal family, who before the protag entered his body was kinda considered the fuck-up, fail-son of the kingdom of Graycastle, who was sent to manage tiny shithole village in the boonies to not mess up anyplace important called Border Town. Or rather, there is a succession crisis of sorts, between the five children of the King and each were given a piece of territory to govern for 5 years and the one who proved to be the most apt at it would get the throne, but Roland was the one basically no one had any hopes or expectations in, so he was given the most worthless territory, and the original Roland was happy lazing away in comfort.

Now, the setting is a fantasy world stuck roughly in the medieval times, but there is magic which seems to solely originate in some women who are considered to be witches and are treated with hostility, fear and suspicion, and it is a capital crime against the kingdom and mainly the church to be one. They are very "one shall not suffer a witch to live" over there, and the second our protag becomes Roland, he was actually in the middle of one such execution, where a town was about to publically execute Anna who can control and produce fire and who used her powers to save her father from a cave-in accident in the mine he worked in.

There also exist special stones that people wear as amulets which can completely nullify a witches power, called God's Locket of Retribution, which is how normal people can match witches, at least to a point. The true manner of control though is that Witches are isolated, uneducated, poor and scared children and women who have the full power of the state, the church and the society turned against them, most of which do not understand and in fact fear their own powers and constantly hide it, so they are usually easily apprehended. Even Anna was turned in to the authorities by her own party whom she had just saved, so widespread is the fear and hatred towards witches in this world.

This is the world in which our protag who I will call Roland from now on since that is the identity he assumes almost immediately. Now, him being a modern, practical man is initially not really buying the witchcraft allegations and cancels the execution for now, which is shocking to the rest of the people since the prince wasn't really someone like that.

Roland decides to at least hear the witch out, and she explains the exact circumstances, all the while his two advisors are urging him to execute her. Roland, still unconvinced about the existence of magical powers dares her to show her powers to him and takes off the stone that prevents her from using her powers, after which Anna immediately uses her magic to burn through her chains and prison cell, firmly proving that magic is real and that hers in particular is immense. Having showed Roland what she can do, she still wants them to go ahead with the execution, knowing that she doesn't really have anything to live for, now that her own family has forsaken her and everyone hates her.

And now we enter the driving force and main theme of the story, because Roland refuses, gives her his jacket and tells her he will hire her, because her magic is incredible, and they can do some cool stuff with it.

So yeah, this is a technological uplifting/civ building story with very strong harem vibes, seeing that witches can only be female and Roland is quickly trying to gather as many witches under his banner as possible, because magic is fucking awesome and very, very useful, and many do, because (almost) everyone else hates them and wants to kill them.

There is interesting stuff there. Roland wants to create a place where Witches can live freely, because there is just a human gut instinct against the prosecution they face, but also partly driven but just how much of a fucking waste it is to kill people with magical powers.

So, with his modern knowledge of engineering and a lot of other stuff, and with Anna's control, precision and sheer powerful output over fire, they can slowly but surely industrialize. With time, more and more witches join, which opens up new tech branches and possibilities.

One cool thing is that the world building has some very fun building blocks. Witches are feared because sometimes their powers go haywire and do damage to everyone around them, but it is discovered that with Roland, because they use their powers constantly and hone their control, they do not have these issues, because most witches never use their powers out of fear for being seen and caught, which had the whole witch population in this negative feedback loop that and outsider interrupted. Another cool thing is that due to his scientific knowledge, he just knows a lot about the physics and chemistry of things, so when he imparts this knowledge or knowledge in general about the world, witches understand their own powers more and what they can do and reach newer heights. Once Anna learns what fire actually is, how it works, what chemistry is, due to that new understanding, she can do a lot more stuff now, simply because some stuff is just not something you can figure out without knowing a lot of stuff that simply didn't exist yet.

Furthermore, we also learn about the world itself, its past, the history of the Church, where the dogma against witches came from and what events have shaped the world as it is, and what exactly is going on in the world, where a lot of people are scheming. The Church is plotting to take over all kingdoms, three of Roland's other siblings are vying for the throne of Greycastle and the fourth, his younger sister, has seemingly gone radio-silent.

There is a lot going on there in this story. So if you like reading about tech uplifts, about someone explaining how to make gunpowder, steam engines, how to make concrete or explaining the periodic table, how to make cannons and railways electricity, especially by utilizing magic to do so, while also ancient conspiracies and institutional shifts are taking place and have taken place over centuries as plans to save the world from a demonic threat that is looming over the world, all of that is in Release That Witch.

Character wise, I have to say, I do not like Roland much. The saving grace of his character is that Roland is very much not magical per se. Almost every witch who has an ability that could be wielded in combat would stomp him, but even though he does not wield physical or magical power, in practice it is still very much a power fantasy because he is the most knowledgeable person in the world and he basically has the solutions to almost every problem thanks to his modern education. It makes more sense than in most other stories with a similar dynamic, that all the witches under his banner are absolutely devoted to him, grateful beyond belief, some even feeling romantic love for him, mainly because, well, in a world where there was no acceptance, not even tolerance and only fear and prosecution and dying a painful death at best, he created a space where they not only were accepted and allowed to prosper, but became respected and valued members of society, and even enjoyed to live in some of the more modern facilities he created.

Going from poor peasant with absolutely no future, to live with plumbing, electricity, food and shelter, respect, wages and the ability to learn and use their own abilities, yeah, that would make one fiercely loyal to the one guy who allowed for that to happen.

And while I said haremy vibes, Roland really only has eyes for Anna and she loves him right back, and Nightingale, probably my fav char so far, another witch also has feelings for Roland but knows he doesn't return them on the same level. There are no usual harem shenanigans going on, with the girls being comedically jealous of each other or arguing over boob sizes or whatever. There is this bittersweet air about Nightingale having this unrequited love, while also not wanting to ruin things. I said haremy because 96 % of the cast are ladies who are all super fans of the protag and while there are no Roland slips and lands face first on anyone's boobs or ass,

The reason i never quite clicked with Roland was that I just found him a bit insufferable and condescending, and later on when he meets his younger sister she is quite obviously not buying things. The Roland she knew was a petty, cowardly, pathetic skirt-chasing idiot who liked to drink, not someone who would champion the rights of witches and be able to produce incredibly technological and societal advances like that, and his attitude while trying to lie to her just rubbed me the wrong way, especially seeing that he could have been honest with her and nothing would have changed. No one in the world gives a shit about OG Roland, no one.

So yeah, I read a few of the light novels a couple of years ago, but have since then switched to the manhua, because the colored art is just neat and kinda better written and combat and magic looks cool and the exposition on the tech is more engaging that way. I also quite like some of the character designs and I will express a lot of interest in the whole conspiracies, the secrets behind the Church and its formation and the connection to the demon threat.

I just never clicked with the main char too much, and the story is obviously not for everyone. Still, there are a lot of upsides, especially if you want a tech uplift story. It is just a bit self-indulgent at times, and Roland attitude is just a bit grating to me. Also, some dream stuff happens later on, which I wasn't a big fan of, and yeah, there is some societal, political stuff and values imposed by Roland that I wasn't super fond of, especially since it is presented very non-critically with Roland just stating things as fact, but meh, that sort of stuff comes kinda with the territory. I would like it if there was like, in story pushback or consequences of Roland's rule, but since he is modernizing and effectively creating way better living conditions for everyone under his rule and has overwhelming military strength thanks to the magic wielding witches AND gunpowder weapons AND an actual navy and artillery while all of his enemies are levies and knights, the message very much is that Roland just rules.

Worth checking out at least. The Light Novels are completely, to my understanding, and the manhua has 500 chapters as of the time of writing, so there is a lot to read.

[felques]

Written almost a full month ago; just now getting around to editing it into something semi-presentable.

--------------------------

Though Gaius would be hard-pressed to call Wingul's general mood pleasant, he still spent more time with the younger man than any other in the country. Today was no exception, a break from meetings leading to a respite in Gaius' quarters.

"The chimera is an apt metaphor for us." Wingul had been smiling thinly, golden eyes focused on Gaius over the cup of green tea he had been sipping.

"Yes. The creature is steeped in the mythology of Auj Oule. It makes sense to carry those feelings forward into the next era of the country, does it not?"

Wingul's lips disappeared behind his cup as he took another sip, though his eyes remained on the older man sitting across from him. Without any sign of that smile, Gaius could focus on the fact that there was no humor in those eyes.

"What are you thinking, Wingul?"

"Nothing of import. I find it amusing how shallow your use of the metaphor ultimately is. But you never struck me as particularly poetic."

Gaius frowned, unsure what to think of what was potentially an insult. "Care to share, then?"

Setting down his cup, Wingul slipped a bun from the box to his side and plated it, sliding it across the table to his king.

"You know, of course, that we took our names after elements of the chimera. Its wings, its horn, its stinger, its fangs."

Gaius nodded, carefully taking the dumpling and considering whether or not to eat it while Wingul continued speaking.

"The chimera is a creature of war. While some myths claim it to be a natural creature, most describe it as manmade. How, we do not know. Special artes? It hardly matters. The fact of the matter is that it serves a purpose as its individual parts and as a whole. Upon the chimera's back, a new country arose -- that which we call Auj Oule."

Wingul drank more of his tea, watching Gaius not eating his food.

"Don't be fussy with your food, Gaius. We've been over this."

Gaius wrinkled his nose at the sudden switch in topics. "I am not being fussy. There's no spice in this, right?"

"Of course not. Now eat."

When he realized that Wingul was not going to continue with whatever expansion on the metaphor he had planned, Gaius shook his head and began eating.

Wingul reached for the teapot, his voice wry as he refilled his cup.

"It's for the best that you are not so poetic. Someone needs to be grounded and keep looking forward."

"That was what I vowed to you and the others, yes."

Wingul hummed his agreement but said no more.

* * *

The chimera can lose its horn, its stinger, its claws, its wings. It can and will fight regardless, with all of its strength. Yes, it is powerful with all of its tools, but each aspect of it can be broken, can be taken away.

Gaius grimly looked across the room, watching Wingul as he ordered away a number of soldiers and spies. They had much to deal with, now essentially in charge of both Auj Oule and Rashugal. First had been Jiao, and now Presa and Agria. The Chimeriad was reduced to one member -- the first to have taken on a name in honor of the creature of war.

"I want you to return to Auj Oule and continue running operations out of the capital. Or whichever city you find will allow for easier communication with our forces stationed here in Fennmont."

Wingul did not look over as Gaius spoke, his eyes scanning over written reports. "And what will you be doing, Your Highness?"

Gaius frowned at the lack of confirmation. "You know what I will be doing. Maxwell and her group will undeniably be making their move soon."

Wingul set down his papers and scoffed. "And you intend to meet them with that spirit that has taken a liking to you? That is folly and you know it, Gaius."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Wingul. She is an acceptable partner in battle. Her power is undeniable."

The mention of power brought about a cross look on Wingul's face that Gaius was surprised to not see fade from sight a few seconds later.

"The truth of the matter is that she is unpredictable. Her loyalty is questionable. What if she were to turn against you?"

"It's not like you to sow dissent, Wingul."

The younger man scoffed, golden eyes flashing as he allowed his annoyance to properly surface.

"You don't know what I have done for you and this country, Gaius. It's already foolish how much you have been doing alone -- including going to that other world by yourself."

"What would you have me do? We cannot lose this momentum."

Wingul's silence was sour and utterly poisonous. With an abrupt shake of his head, he coldly responded. "I want you to think on what you are saying, Gaius. For as long as you live -- hopefully a long time, given your decisions at the moment."

"I disagree that this is a bad course of action, Wingul."

It wouldn't be the first time they reached an impasse.

"As you say, Your Highness."

But it would be their last.

* * *

Robbed of its horn and stinger and claws, the chimera stands with only two options before it: fight or flight.

The option to fight is the obvious choice to the steadfast creature, taking to the skies for every advantage it can still use against its enemy.

But wings are fragile. They break more easily than any other part of the chimera.

Wings broken, the chimera plummets to the earth. A stalwart protector of the land. A beast of many battles, always sensing war on the horizon.

A remnant of an era best left in the past.

Upon the dead chimera's back, a new country would rise and flourish.

The people would call the unified land Rieze Maxia.

[lyndonriggall]

Why I’m Performing in The Pillowman in Five Days

Time moves quickly. I think it was only a moment ago that we had months ahead of us to rehearse, and yet that expanse of time has receded as swiftly as waves on the shore. Somehow, I have very quickly reached a point where I have only five days before I will be acting on-stage at Launceston’s Earl Arts Centre, for the first time in fifteen years. I am playing the part of Katurian the writer (originated by David Tennant in the 2003 premiere of the play, and most recently in 2023 by Lily Allen) in Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman, directed by Mitchell Langley for the Launceston Players, which also stars Travis Hennessy as Tupolski, Lauchy Hansen as Ariel, Jesse Apted as Michal, and Renee Bakker, Michael Mason and Eva Cetti in various roles. As the play begins, my character is dragged in for questioning by the police. He writes powerful—but very disturbing—short stories, and it seems that someone is bringing those short stories to life.

Wouldn’t it make sense that he has something to do with it?

It all sounds pretty grim (and in many ways it is), but if you are at all familiar with McDonagh’s writing then you’ll know that he can be relied upon to strike an electrifying balance between horror and comedy. His works include The Lieutenant of Inishmore (2001), A Behanding in Spokane (2010) and Hangmen (2015) for the stage, while more recently he has made his name as the Academy Award-winning writer and director of In Bruges (2008), Seven Psychopaths (2012), Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017) and The Banshees of Inisherin (2022). While The Pillowman is undoubtedly one of the darkest plays I’ve ever come across, it is also one of the funniest.

A year ago, I probably would have considered it unlikely that I would find myself here. In fact, I find it pretty unlikely even now, just days away from opening night. So why did I want to be part of The Pillowman? Aside from the obvious strengths of the team behind the project (who have taught me so much, whilst also giving me the delightful and terrifying challenge of trying to prove my right to share the same stage as them), this is a play that is very close to my heart. In 2008, in my Year 12 Theatre class, my teacher Nicole assigned me Tupolski’s famous railroad tracks monologue as my assessment piece, which I also later performed at a college academic awards night.  Ambitious creature that I was, I wouldn’t dare perform something like that without first having its context in the whole work. She lent me a copy of the play—the first time I had seen one of those strange slim paperbacks with no picture on the cover (this one was orange, as is the copy I am learning my lines from now). I went home and read it. I was laughing, I was shocked, and I was moved, all in equal measure. Oh, of course there’s something special about a work of literature that finds you on the cusp of a new phase of life, and most of my favourite books are books that I found (or that found me) that year. But aside from Shakespeare’s Hamlet (which I also discovered just before finishing school, and found myself falling into, and have since found it very hard to clamber back out of), The Pillowman swiftly became my favourite play, and Martin McDonagh my favourite living playwright. There have been a number of times on this blog where I have talked about the challenge of balance, how we prioritise and choose what to spend our precious limited time and our creative resources on. For me, the only thing worse than having the burden of auditioning for The Pillowman, being offered a part in it, and rehearsing and performing it, was the horrifying thought that someone else might get to do it in my place.

And so, here I am.

In my teaching of English, one of the most important concepts that I discuss with students is that of an “invited reading.” What I mean by this is not merely what the author (or even a character) says, but what the audience is supposed to take away as its meaning. Bad things happen in literature, but the existence of evil as a narrative element is not necessarily an endorsement of it, even if it might be tempting and easy to think so. In our inattentive world of click-bait headlines, out-of-context soundbites and addiction to outrage, it can be very easy to mistake a single puzzle piece for the whole picture, and while it happens constantly, it happens at our own peril. This is the very essence of what The Pillowman is asking us to consider: what stories are we allowed to tell? How do we shape the audience’s understanding of what we are trying to say? Can we shape the audience’s understanding of what we are trying to say? Should we be expected to? In the end, is it even fair to say that stories mean anything at all?

In a prescient update relating to the show’s themes, on World Poetry Day last month, PEN International released “War, Censorship, and Persecution,” an international case list for 2023/2024, highlighting the latest challenges for writers in global conflicts and emphasising the need to safeguard freedom of expression, especially in war-torn regions. The report documents 122 cases of writers facing harassment, arrest, violence and death worldwide. This is why the tale of Katurian still matters: because we do not yet live in a world where you can be sure that a story will not cost you your life.

A few days out from opening night, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was a little scared. There is never a moment where I am not on-stage in the play. Playing Katurian as a return to performance is the theatrical equivalent of “having another go at swimming” by throwing myself into the churning waters of the Atlantic.

But that’s the point, isn’t it? I’m scared. Oh yes, I’m scared. But I have a story that needs telling.

The Launceston Players Production of The Pillowman, directed by Mitchell Langley, is on-stage at the Earl Arts Centre Wednesday 24th April at 7:30pm, Thursday 25th April at 4:30pm, Friday 26th April at 7:30pm, and Saturday 27th April at 2:00pm and 7:30pm. Tickets are still available at Theatre North.

[gravitascivics]

ENTITY OR INCREMENTAL

If readers are of the mind, think back to middle school (or if you are as old as this blogger, think back to junior high).  Ask: is intelligence or how well they did at school the product of inborn intelligence or from figuring out how that learning game was played?  American psychologist, Carol S. Dweck, argues that this basic distinction in how people see intelligence plays a big role in how likely individual students will perform at that level of instruction.  And, consequently, how they will be likely to experience success from that point on when it comes to schooling.[1]

          This blog last addressed Dweck’s work in a posting, “A Middle School Challenge,” back in 2019.[2]  It reports how this psychologist labels each view.  The “I’m just smart or I am not” view is given the name entity theory, while “I just have to figure out how to learn this stuff” view is named incremental theory.  She claims these two views or theories prevail among students.  Students tend to see intelligence either one way or the other.

The first, entity theory, sees intelligence as a given amount a person has from birth.  The more one has, the easier it is to learn new material or content.  It is judged to be a fixed, tangible, or concrete quality, and is part of what makes a person who he/she is.  People either have it or they don’t.

On the other hand, the other view, incremental theory, Dweck describes as malleable, changeable through effort, and has a dynamic quality.  In short, in this second view, people can become smarter or more intelligent.  Yes, it calls for people to work at it, but such challenges take on a puzzle quality and have a higher likelihood of being experienced in positive ways.  And making mistakes in the process can even be given a positive slant since they are opportunities to advance learning.

Asking middle school students, through her research, Dweck found that “entity” students tended to agree with the following statements:

“The main thing I want when I do my schoolwork is to show how good I am at it.”

“I mostly like schoolwork that I can do perfectly without any mistakes.”

“I have to admit that sometimes I would rather do well in a class than learn a lot.”[3]

Whereas incremental students were likely to agree with:

“I like schoolwork that I’ll learn from even if I make a lot of mistakes.”

“It’s much more important to me to know new things in my classes than it is to get the best grades.”

“I like schoolwork best when it makes me think hard.”[4]

Ask any teacher which set of biases they wished their students shared, and this blogger believes they would overwhelmingly want their students to see schoolwork and learning through the “incremental” lens as reflected in the above quotes. 

Yet, this blogger believes that most teachers do not see this distinction being based, at least in part, on how their students view or understand intelligence.  As a matter of fact, he also believes that many, if not most, teachers share in the entity theory of intelligence themselves.  If true, this can be detrimental in many ways, including ones in which they – and their students in upcoming years – view civic concerns.

For example, if intelligence is a set element of one’s makeup, is it determined by biological factors?  Can those factors be related to such classifications as race, gender, nationality, and the like?  While the emphasis of this posting is not on these concerns; in passing, they seemed worth considering.

But overall, incremental students consistently chose options reflecting exhortation of effort.  While entity students tended to choose, when it came to schoolwork, options of avoidance, alternative options to study and work such as avoiding subjects or courses, and even entertained cheating on tests.  Incremental students were more apt to seek out the challenges involved.  The next posting will apply these distinctions to the concerns of civics more directly.

[1] Carol S. Dweck, Self-Theories:  Their Role in Motivation, Personality, and Development (Philadelphia, PA:  Psychology Press, 2000).

[2] Robert Gutierrez, “A Middle School Challenge,” Gravitas:  A Voice for Civics, October 11, 2019, accessed February 3, 2024, URL:  https://gravitascivics.blogspot.com/2019_10_06_archive.html.

[3] Dweck, Self-Theories, 33.

[4] Ibid., 33.

[hellmouth-manor]

PRECIOUS || RUBY || FINALE

[♪♪♪]

“I meant what I said. I’m not mad at you.” 

Freshly returned to life, Ruby looks just as she did when she first walked through the manor doors. Well– not exactly the same, right? There’s the blonde hair and the familiarly vivid blue eyes, of course, but there’s much about Ruby that will never look quite the same ever again. The spent time at Hellmouth Manor will linger on her like ash- Ever-present in the sharp edges of her haircut. In the little scratches and bruises persisting from one accident or another. In the smile she brandishes now, despite it all. 

“But that’s not going to stop me from thrashing your sorry ass.” 

It’s Micah that comes to mind first. How they both lied to each other, shamelessly, when they first met. Brick walls made of fear and shame, that seemed to crumble so effortlessly once the two of them actually started talking. The warmth of that memory spreads to her fingertips, and she feels something… rough. 

A large gemstone, glittering ruby, in the shape of a heart floats between her hands. She sees herself reflected in the grooves and the bevels, distorted images staring back at her. Relentless and stubborn and angry and all the other pieces of herself that she had tried to cut away. 

But it isn’t just her in the reflection. There are images of the chaos in the room around her. The heart becomes overwhelmed with light and sound and the faces of the most important people in her life. 

Shoji shines the brightest, of course. The kind of radiance that she wants to be jealous of but, truthfully, just wants to see it glow brighter. She’d compared him to the Sun once, and how apt it feels even now. Warmth that reminds her that there is always room for joy, for laughter, and humor in her heart, no matter how dark it gets. 

Mirai and Olwin come into view on either side. Mirror images of the sin of Envy, and her compatriots in that regard. When Ruby holds the heart against her, she can feel the sincerity of Mirai’s hand, assuring her that she wouldn’t have to be alone, teaching her that tenderness and gentleness are not signs of weakness, but a kind of strength that eclipses any show of raw power. And Olwin- it’s nice to put a human face to the name. It suits him, she thinks. It’s a name she’ll always associate with bravery, with resourcefulness, and a truly undying spirit. 

Hisashi comes into view next. There's a part of her that’s still quite wary of the man. Miranda, too, and the image of her brings a soft smile back to Ruby’s face. One who showed her the importance of baring one's fangs, to live for oneself. And the other who showed a patience and understanding that Ruby didn’t deserve, but will remain endlessly grateful for. 

So many beautiful faces. So many new pieces of her life. Oh, how she hopes to one day have the strength and character to rival Minami. Or a levity on par with Kamiya. Hell, even the composure and tenacity of someone like Arisa. 

Whether she considers them friends or not, everyone here in this manor is someone important to her. All of it, all of them, are a part of her now. 

Moreso than the manor itself, the people inside of it have changed Ruby.

And then there’s Alou. The centerpiece, as it were. One could argue he is the most important person of them all. Were it not for him, she wouldn’t be here, and she wouldn’t have any of these people- these connections- to begin with. But, when Ruby sees Alou reflected in the heart, she starts to press it against her palm, squeezing until shimmering, spider web-like fractures start to form across its surface. 

“This is where it ends for you.” 

Slowly, bits and pieces of the gemstone start to fall away. Chips and shards break free, and an intense, almost fiery sort of light starts to spill from somewhere deep inside of it. 

“But, for me…? This is just the beginning.”

Ruby closes her fist, and the heart shatters. Pieces of useless rock fall to her feet and scatter apart- shiny, but unimportant. No, the important part was always what was locked away deep inside. 

To be honest, she had half-expected it to be completely empty. Something spills out, though. Heavy, but comforting, and long enough that unwinds all the way to the floor. A chain- intertwined metal links of cobalt and scarlet. Another very important person comes to mind and Ruby, under her breath, asks her sister for one last favor. 

“Hey, Sapphire, lend me some of your confidence, won’t you? For real, this time. Not just some silly little mask I can put on to feel better about myself.” 

She tests the chain’s weight in her hand, swinging it over her head in a wide arc. It almost feels effortless, but it brings up another smile as it reminds Ruby of the long ribbons she and her sister used to play with when they did gymnastics together. The next swing tests the chain’s length, and it clears the length of the room easily, winding and tangling itself around one of Alou’s wrists as Ruby keeps the tension of the chain pulled taut. 

“Whatever happens to you, after this…” 

Another flick of her wrist, and the chain rearranges itself to wind across several of Alou’s limbs. 

“I hope you’re able to find peace. Love, too. The real kind, I mean.” 

Once more, Ruby pulls the chain tight, allowing gravity and physics and the crushing weight of her resolve to do the rest of the work. 

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be in this life. Better luck… next time.”

[deathdxnces]

» — IRELIA AND THE NAVORI BROTHERHOOD.

before the navori brotherhood became what it is, they were simply part of the resistance opposing noxus after the invasion. not all of the resistance became the brotherhood (some went with zed, and are part of the order of shadows; others, i imagine, moved on to other groups or left behind the fighting altogether), yet the brotherhood clearly developed from the resistance, and it seems particularly tied with those surrounding its leadership.

but before irelia was involved with that leadership, she was just one of the countless ionian children who lost their families during the war. unlike most others, she had a very unique power, but one she didn't fully understand nor entirely controlled at first, i imagine. moreover, with her family dead and her village occupied by noxians, she didn't have anywhere to go. while the placidium and her dance teacher might have been considered, that was a long way from where she was, and would involve crossing most of navori while foreign invaders were terrorizing it in their attempt at conquest.

instead, i think she stayed closer to home, but that her wandering, aimless as it may have been, led her to the growing resistance (by chance or nudged by ionia, even irelia isn't sure; she would bet on the latter, though). she was around 11 years old at the time, and they took her in as they took any other ionian that wanted to join them. wanting to fight back noxus was enough; being one of the people affected by the war, i imagine, and willing to contribute to the group in anyway, would have been enough.

it's important to point out while ionia had defenders in the monasteries and other similar martially apt orders, like the wuju, the resistance in navori was more of a makeshift group. there were certainly people with formal combat training (like zed) but most of them likely were only taking up arms for the first time and out of need. either way, they were some of the few actively fighting. i doubt any of the children taken in by the resistance wouldn't have ended up being exposed to further violence and death, but that isn't all they would've been exposed to. they were children, and these were the people keeping them (at least more or less) safe. the people who were fighting; likely the people they looked up to. and that definitely impacted their views and tolerance (or lack of it), at least to a point.

in irelia's case, she joined them after her family was murdered, when she was 11, and would remain with the resistance until the very end of the war, when she was 16ish. this means throughout a critical period of development and growth, including the formation of values, a personal code of ethics and identity, all of which would have been influenced by the people around her she looked up to. she was old enough to remember and look up to her father and brothers, and that definitely influences her views and beliefs, but for years she was living with the resistance, and it was them who looked after and who she'd have looked up to, then. their beliefs and values would certainly also influence her during that development, and i think they're deeply tied to how she deals with noxians, even beyond her personal resentment.

while the resistance wasn't yet the brotherhood, it was its foundation — and when we look at the brotherhood, it is a violent, extremist, militaristic and ultra-nationalist group, said to have grown worse after the war. at its core, however, i think it makes sense the seeds for that were already there. it's likely the resistance defended militarization; they would certainly have tried to organize themselves for armed conflict, given what they were facing. an invasion like that would certainly have increased the sense of nationalism and a national identity with shared culture, despite ionia being quite decentralized until then. they might not have been as extreme and violent, but they were fighting back, and many of them (like irelia herself) likely resented noxus greatly for their losses.

that resentment, and even the initial violence she was forced to commit to survive, but the drive to fight back, as well, would likely all have been easily fostered in her by the adults around her, considering how they would act and feel. irelia might have grown to see things in a less black and white manner if, following her losses, those around her had helped her see not every noxian is to blame, or that they are also people who bleed and suffer and feel and not a plague to be defeated. that wasn't what she had, though. those around her were much more likely to be aggressive and hateful toward the noxians in the first place. i don't think it was even just not being taught different; i think it's outright being influenced to hate and resent and fight back violently against the invaders, all ideas that would've found fertile soil to grow in the heart of a child who lost everything because of the noxians.

The Brotherhood warrior took a step down the hill. “We promised to find you, the xiir, wherever you might be in the First Lands. We promised to hunt you, stalk you, to cleanse our homeland of those who have destroyed the balance between the twin realms.” The Ionians roared, raising weapons, many of which coursed and shivered with magic. “We make these promises to all those you have taken before their time, those whose limbs you have taken, whose peaceful dreams you have stolen and replaced with terror and broken memory. These promises we will keep, so long as our hearts beat life within us!”

in sisterhood of war, members of the brotherhood attack the group of noxians the story follows. the above excerpt is part of it. their actions are, of course, way more brutal than their speech suggests; but i feel the speech is an important indicator of the ideals they would have originally had, and when you look at it, none of it sounds unlike what irelia believes, actually. hunting noxians and cleansing the land of those who destroyed it? yeah, that's definitely her default approach to dealing with noxians. promising to fight back and make the noxians pay with their blood for all the hurt they caused? absolutely in line with how she thinks and acts.

i don't think that's by chance, or even just a result of similar experiences during the war, given how much time irelia spent with the resistance and the age she was at the time. the foundation of their views is the same because they come from the same place. considering those are described as young brotherhood warriors, i think that only supports the idea of the influence the resistance and what became the brotherhood had on irelia (and the other children they took in). they were taught to hate and answer violently. they were taught to look at the noxians as not deserving of respect, as less than human, as something to be hunted and killed, because that would be justice for all they are to blame for. (and why would a child who lost everything because of noxus not listen? why would they not see it exactly that way, after what was done to them?)

“This ground pains you,” he taunted. “The xiir you lost, would you like to see them again?” As if on command, a young Ionian who had remained halfway down the hill began to sing. It was a lilting, haunting melody, a tune that no living thing should be able to make. It stilled the Noxians for an instant, the absolute wrongness of it. Erath’s footing slipped as the earth shook. Tiny things appeared up from the ground, like seedlings but pulsing with a sickly, intermittent unlight. Erath realized after a moment that they were fingers. Soon hands emerged, arms bursting through the soil. Insubstantial silhouettes of ragged men and women clawed their way up from below, dressed in incorporeal rags of Noxian garb, all radiating the same cold spectral darkness. “The dead here are not at peace,” hissed the Ionian, grappling with Teneff.

[...]

“Insanity,” snapped Marit, flinging blood from her glaive. “Ionians claim to revere the dead, and yet do this?” “We aren’t their dead,” murmured Arrel. 

but sisterhood of war also shows just how much more extreme the brotherhood grew to be, regardless of that shared foundation of ideals. amidst their extremism and cruel violence, they have no qualms about desecrating the dead, at least as long as the dead aren't ionian. they claim to condemn the noxians for the damage they caused, including upsetting the balance between this world and the spirit realm, but they themselves do stuff like this that can't possibly not mess with the balance as well. and while irelia isn't particularly a fan of The Balance as the kinkou preach it, she is very aware and respectful of the natural and spiritual worlds around her. yes, she hates noxians and would rather see them suffer; she wouldn't be okay with something like that being done, however, not even if it's targetting only the noxians.

still, reading the part with the necromancer and the conversation about how the noxians 'aren't their dead', i was reminded of one of irelia's lines — bury them in noxus. this land won't have them. and i think there's just. a very fine line between the path she followed and what she could have been — that she could have become more like them, if she hadn't been so set on her ways and influenced by the beliefs of her family before, but the fact it was so close is still evident in some of her beliefs and approach to things. she wouldn't actually cross the line and desecrate the noxian dead, despite having no issue whatsoever with ensuring any noxian in ionia will be dead soon enough; but she doesn't really respect them. it's not about respect toward them because they're dead, or toward their spirits. it's about the act itself, because ultimately she's very much saying what she thinks when she says the noxians aren't good enough even to serve as fertilizer.

when irelia chose to fight in the placidium, despite most ionians considering the war lost already, that was a desperate last stand and a personal choice in the sense of her being incapable of not taking action for something she believes in. but i think it was also likely enabled and encouraged by the environment she was in, and in which she had been in for the last 3 years. sisterhood of war also makes a point that even when they're losing, the brotherhood doesn't retreat; they fight the noxians until the noxians die or they are killed. and again, it's very much aligned with irelia's mindset (especially at 14). she might die, but at least she would die trying to take down some noxians along the way.

i also think it's worth noting that, after her unlikely victory, i think they would only have tried to influence her more. she became a leadership figure, perhaps the only one possibly capable of uniting ionia as one permanently. there's no way people around her didn't try to use it, maybe not for themselves, but for their ideals and goals as a group. and they wouldn't have been outright rejected even if irelia could tell they were trying to push her in a certain direction, because ultimately who else did she have to turn to? people expected her to lead the entire war effort. of course she'd take the offered help from those who had been fighting from the start, she just wouldn't do it blindly.

unfortunately for them, she is not easily manipulated. unfortunately for her, they didn't take her decision to leave very well. irelia left the resistance the moment she considered her job done, and in part that's absolutely because they likely were already pushing for increasingly aggressive approaches she didn't agree with. after she left, they turned aggressive because she was considered too soft. after that, the brotherhood was led by kusho and nowadays we don't really know if they have a leader, but they became increasingly extreme in their methods, and definitely harm ionians as much as they harm noxians. it's a line irelia wouldn't cross; she'd never disregard ionian lives the way she does noxian ones. it's not that she wouldn't kill ionians (she did and she will again), but rather that it takes something dire for her to do it, dire enough as her own survival being at stake, and that even then she's very harsh on herself for doing it, and even then she's compassionate and caring enough to ensure the ionians killed by her blades are treated with all respect.

given time, the divergences between her and the brotherhood became really obvious; i think most people who don't know the resistance became the brotherhood, and that irelia was associated with them, would likely find it rather surprising. but honestly it doesn't take much to see there are similarities as well, and they're never more blatant than in her disregard for noxians and the dehumanizing view she has of them, or the ease with which she deals with violence.

they influenced who she grew up to be. and i think she frequently wonders if she could have influenced them toward a better path if she had used her position of leadership in the resistance for that, instead of leaving. which isn't fair of course because she was a teenager already facing so much more responsibility than she ought to, but isn't that precisely the reason why she takes every burden as her own and blames herself for not carrying it effortlessly? regardless, her history is very entwined with the navori brotherhood, i think; and continues to be, considering they're still trying to kill her for not being the leader they wanted.

[incomingalbatross]

(Ficlet) A Group of Librarians Is a...?

“Hey!” Cassandra said, breaking the always-precarious silence of the Annex. “So, you know how we’re all basically official Librarians now, so this is basically the first time there have been a bunch of Librarians at once...” She trailed off.

“Yeah, so?” Jacob prompted.

She beamed, tenting her fingers together. “So we need a collective noun for Librarians.”

Eve looked up from her desk, eyebrow raised in cautious curiosity. “A collective noun?”

“You know!” Cassandra bounced a little. “Like ‘a murder of crows.’ ‘A parliament of owls.’“

“A flock a’sheep or herd a’cows, if you want more basic ones,” Jacob clarified. He grinned. “Or an ‘argumentation of historians.’“

“Ooh, ‘argumentation’ would work for Librarians, too,” Eve said immediately, smirking.

“Rude,” Ezekiel chimed in. “How about ‘an awesomeness of Librarians’?” He held up a hand before anyone could answer. “Nope, never mind, sounds lame. Also I’m the most awesome one here, of course, so... not really accurate representation.” He shrugged apologetically.

Jacob threw a wad of paper at him. “You’re right about the sounding lame part, at least. We need something classy. What about... a discovery of Librarians?”

“A fantasy of Librarians!” Cassandra suggested. “Because magic!”

Jacob and Ezekiel both pulled faces.

“A trope of Librarians,” Jacob suggested instead.

Ezekiel looked skeptical. “Mate, I don’t even know what a ‘trope’ is.”

“You—how do you not know what a trope is? You’re a Librarian!”

“A cool one. I’m guessing that’s not cool.”

“Not—” Jacob gathered himself together. “A trope’s like—like an archetype, but different. They’re the building blocks of stories, okay, they’re important.”

Ezekiel gave the impression of considering this for a moment, pursing his lips. “Eh.”

“Why are we talking about tropes?” Jenkins had paused mid-passage and looked into the room, with an expression that said it was against his better judgement but he was doing it anyway.

“We need a collective noun for Librarians, apparently,” Ezekiel told him. “I’m thinking...a mystery of Librarians. Because we’re mysterious and we solve mysteries!”

“Hm.” Jenkins wrinkled his nose. “I’ll admit the workings of your mind are certainly a mystery, Mr. Jones—” Ezekiel beamed “—but it’s not the word I would choose.”

“An adventure of Librarians,” Jacob suggested.

“A victory of Librarians!” Cassandra tacked on.

Jenkins looked disapproving. “Very self-aggrandizing. Anyway, I should think the answer was obvious...” He smiled benignly. “The most appropriate choice would clearly be a nuisance of Librarians.”

“I like that one!” Eve said cheerfully, giving a thumbs-up without bothering to raise her head from her work.

Cassandra scowled at them both. “Boooo.”

“Can’t do that one anyway,” Ezekiel said, phone in hand. “Nuisance is already reserved for cats.”

“What? No.” Cassandra looked taken aback. “Cats are a clowder.”

“One thing can get multiple names.” Ezekiel was typing something. “For instance, thieves can be a ‘den,’ a ‘gang,’ or a ‘mob.’“ He frowned for a second. “Although obviously ‘den’ is the best one. Anyway! Did you know Wikipedia’s got a whole list of these?” He looked up, grinning again.

“Ooh! What about a ‘code’ of Librarians?”

Jacob shook his head. “Too confusing. Sounds like a code Librarians have. Here, lemme see that list—”

A sharp sound echoed through the Annex. They all turned automatically to Eve, who had clapped her hands together for their attention.

“I’ve got the perfect collective,” she said with a smile. “A group of Librarians—named for what they are best at and most prone to, in all the world—is a distraction of Librarians.”

They stared at her. Ezekiel raised a finger. Cassandra frowned. Jacob opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“Ooh,” Jenkins murmured appreciatively. “Very apt. A masterstroke.”

“Now hang on!” Ezekiel protested. “That’s not fair, you can’t just decide—”

Eve smiled sweetly. “I’ll tell you what,” she cut in. “If any of you can remember what you were doing before this conversation started, I’ll withdraw my suggestion.”

“I mean—”

“We—”

“Well, uh...”

Silence fell. Three Librarians’ gazes suddenly went elsewhere.

“Uh-huh." Eve went back to her work with a shake of her head, still smiling. “That’s what I thought.”