#cause I don't hound her to read my stuff; she reads it on her own time

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Forbidden Fruit Spoils the Fastest

Pairing: Viserys I Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Crack fic, graphic description of decomposition, smut, mention of death and broken bones. Word count: ~1.2k

Summary: Viserys' chambermaid gets carried away.

Author's note: A request from my boo-bear @em-writes-stuff-sometimes - she wanted Vizzy in his rotting era, so that is what I have delivered. This is a crack fic - please don't read if you are easily offended. Community labels are for cops.

An existence endured in poverty denies you the sight of many things; fine clothing, rare jewels, even a roof over your head. It also stymies the opportunity for rot. Food is so scarce that it is devoured before it ever has the chance to spoil. Disease is rife in Flea Bottom, people pass well before they begin to experience the ravages of old age.

It is only when she finds herself a job within the kitchens of the Red Keep that she ever encounters the wasteful nature of those that live a life of abundance. Fruit, meat and cheese are all left on the side to spoil. She watches in fascination as peaches go soft, the skin wrinkling and collapsing in upon itself. The ghoulish green tinge that tarnishes meat as it lingers for days untouched mesmerises her. The little blue specks that grow upon the cheese seem to have a life all their own.

What isn’t fed to the hounds is simply tossed into the street, where it is either taken away by stray animals, or the poor of King’s Landing. She doubts that those residing within the Keep see a difference between the two.

The cook shrugs. “They will buy more,” he says simply when she enquires as to why so much is thrown away. “Days-old food is not fitting for royalty.”

The sentiment repulses her, yet the decay is fascinating. There is a strange beauty in watching something transform and break down, giving life to mould and maggots, becoming unpalatable.

She is moved from her position in the kitchens to one within Maegor’s Holdfast. With the deterioration of the health of King Viserys, more staff are needed to tend to the care of him.

The smell when she first enters his bedchamber causes her to take a step back. It is as though she has walked into a wall. It is nauseating, akin to the stench of the spoiled meat and fruit that they discard in the kitchens, but infinitely more powerful. Viserys is not ill; he is decomposing, a living corpse.

She is transfixed as she stands over him; he is frail, wasted away as he lays there, his skin mottled in hues of purple and grey. She wonders, if she pushed her fingers against his skin, if it would yield like the flesh of rotted fruit. It’s an arousing thought, but one she is startled from when another chambermaid instructs her that she will need to change the bed linens once the King has been lifted from the mattress.

Her throat runs dry as he is lifted away from the bedsheets, revealing the stain that his prone body has left behind, like the blood that leaches from a rotting venison haunch as it gathers flies. She notes that the scent is familiar as she plucks it from the bed. 

Do his attendants even bathe him anymore, or would his flesh simply slough away from his bones, making stew out of him?

As the weeks press on, she is given more responsibility in caring for Viserys. She is left alone with him once it is felt she can be trusted, tasked with delivering milk of the poppy to him from the Maester.

She takes a sip, allowing the bitter liquid to rest against her tongue for a moment before swallowing and assisting Viserys in drinking the rest, a faint grumble of gratitude escaping his throat as she tips the cup against his parched lips.

“Some for me, and some for you.” She smiles as she feels euphoria wash over her.

The diluted opiate makes the stench more bearable, allowing her to examine him more carefully. He does not speak when she lifts away the golden half mask that covers the right side of his face, simply lays there, barely lucid and groans softly.

The cavernous void in his skull where his eye used to be is a gruesome sight, but she is unable to look away. It’s hypnotic to be able to peer all the way inside of someone’s skull and her fingers twitch with the urge to poke around inside.

She resists, deciding Viserys is likely already in enough pain. It’s probably been an age since he last felt any pleasure. She doubts Alicent has touched him in years and the thought makes her pity him. Does he even have a cock anymore, or is there another gaping hole where it has simply been eaten away to nothing?

Before she has time to think fully about what she is doing, she lifts away the quilt that is laid over him. Nightclothes cover his body, yet she can tell he is in a sorry state. He is skeletal beneath the thin material and, as she pulls it upwards, the flesh not marred by lesions is grey, varicose and wilted.

She holds her breath as she reaches the apex of his rakish thighs, expecting the sight between them to horrify her. She is more shocked by the fact that the rot has yet to spread to this portion of him. It sits flaccid and pale against slightly sagging stones, nestled in sparse curls.

Taking him into her hand, she strokes him softly, her eyebrows raise in surprise when he slowly stirs to life against her palm.

“Once you are too rotten to be King, they’ll throw you away like last week’s pheasant,” she tells him matter of factly, watching as he becomes fully hard. He groans quietly. He’s not the largest she’s ever seen, but what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth. “I may as well give you a good time before that happens. Would you like that?”

“Aemma…” he rasps.

She furrows her brow, annoyance prickling hotly at her skin. “If I’m going to fuck you, you sickly old fool, you could at least use the right name!”

Sighing, she shucks off her small clothes before lifting her skirts and straddling Viserys. She spits into her palm, smearing it between her legs and over his length, positioning him at her entrance and sinking down.

She giggles as his face twists in an expression that is halfway between pain and pleasure, slowly beginning to rock her hips. Her eyes travel over what’s left of his face, attempting to piece together what he might have looked like before he began to waste away.

“I have always wanted to fuck a King,” she murmurs, picking up her pace, buttocks slapping against his thighs. “A pity the rot got to you before I did, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Moaning softly, she revels in the way Viserys stretches her, her eyes fluttering closed, not caring about the utter depravity of the act she’s committing.

A sickening crack causes her to gasp, feeling something give way beneath her. Viserys lets out a piteous cry of pain and she quickly scrambles off of him, throwing the bedclothes back over him and hurriedly putting her smallclothes back on.

Shit. I’ve broken the poor cunt’s hip.

Panic courses through her, her heart beats wildly against her chest. She rushes from the room, spending the remainder of the day busying herself with laundering sheets and bedclothes, until later that evening the news spreads like wildfire throughout the Keep.

King Viserys has died.

She is unsurprised by the news, smiling to herself as she continues her task of folding a sheet.

At least that rotten old fruit had one last chance to get it wet before being thrown away.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dargon Reborn! Chapter 4: Shadows Sleeping

I'm on the very extreme end of the Kinsey scale and I'd still be down with a threesome with these two, which says a lot about my survival instinct. But this post isn't about the sexiest way to die, it's about The Wheel of Time, all fifteen books plus a variety of side content and dammit I try to spoil it all as much as possible. If that's going to be a problem, don't keep reading.

This chapter has a wolf icon because Perrin's diving straight into the wolf dream.

So you will give it up, then. It is the best thing for you. Come. Sit, and we will talk.”

Ishamael has noticed that the boys never do what he says, so he figures it's time to tell them to do the things that would be best for them so that they won't do them.

No, just kidding, that would be competent of him and he's still in crazy pants mode until he respawns. He's actually trying to cause Perrin to take up the Way of the Leaf in the hopes that in about fifteen minutes, when the Fades arrive, our boy will be too stupid to immediately reevaluate his philosophy and let the Shadow kill him.

Perrin had not realized the axe was there, had not felt the weight of it pulling at his belt. He ran a hand over the half-moon blade and the thick spike that balanced it. The steel felt—solid. More solid than anything else there. Maybe even more solid than he was himself.

All of this is a dire warning sign since we're in T'A'R, but since Perrin doesn't know that yet, we can hardly blame him for not appreciating that symbolism.

“At least have a drink with me. To years past and years to come. Here, you will see things more clearly after.” The cup the man pushed across the table had not been there a moment before. It shone bright silver, and dark, blood-red wine filled it to the brim.

While most of the Fair Folk stuff in WoT is of course covered by the Finn, I think that the stuff about eating and drinking may well be ancient memories of what dreamers can do in T'A'R.

A gilded helmet, worked like a lion’s head, sat on his head as if it belonged there. Gold leaf covered his ornately hammered breastplate, and gold-work embellished the plate and mail on his arms and legs. Only the axe at his side was plain. A voice—his own—whispered in his mind that he would take it over any other weapon, had carried it a thousand times, in a hundred battles. No! He wanted to take it off, throw it away. I can’t!

Perrin's mistake is in thinking his situation is such that it's only a dream. I'm pretty sure it's Lanfear he's hearing, not himself, and that Lanfear has no more knowledge of Perrin's other lives than anyone else.

“Yes,” he whispered. Inside him, startlement fought with acceptance. He had no use for glory. But when she said it, he wanted nothing else.

Let the record show: When Perrin laments that Rand is better at girls than he is, the fact that Rand doesn't immediately turn into a glory hound at Lanfear's demand proves Perrin right. The jury is still out on where Mat fits into the rankings.

“You don’t know the half of what you are. Of what you can be. Come, share a cup with me, to destiny and glory.” There was a shining silver cup in her hand, filled with blood-red wine. “Drink.”

Pretty rare to see Ishamael and Lanfear on the same page. I'm not sure if she's only accidentally mimicking him or if they're working together for the same general purpose of pulling Perrin away from Rand (Mat, being further away and tainted besides, needs no special attention). Obviously even if they're working together Lanfear wants to screw over Ishamael as soon as possible, it's her nature.

Everywhere he looked, left and right, up or down, were more bridges, more spires, and railless ramps. There seemed no end to them, no pattern. Worse, some of those ramps climbed to spire tops that had to be directly above the ones they had left.

Some suggest that this is either the Ways in T'A'R or a memory thereof, but I think it's just convergent evolution and that Lanfear's gone to a dream shard the Forsaken made, unaware that Perrin's got the skills to follow her through.

On a bridge slightly below him, and much closer than the ramp where the woman had been, a man suddenly appeared, tall and dark and slender, the silver in his black hair giving him a distinguished look, his dark green coat thickly embroidered with golden leaves.

This is Rahvin, for the record.

Another man started across the bridge from the other side, his appearance as sudden as the first man’s. Black stripes ran down the puffy sleeves of his red coat, and pale lace hung thick at his collar and cuffs.

And Be'lal.

The first two men stood side by side, now, made uncomfortable allies by the presence of the newcomer. He shouted at them and shook his fist, while they shifted uneasily, refusing to meet his glares. If the two hated each other, they feared him more.

Considering Rahvin's raw strength and Be'lal's skills at subterfuge, their abject terror of Ishamael is pretty interesting. Are they only afraid of the modern him, stark raving mad from centuries of isolation, or was this how they would have responded to him in the Age of Legends as well?

A prickling in the hair on the back of his neck made him look up. On a ramp above him and to the right, a shaggy gray wolf stood looking at him.

Naturally this freaks Perrin the fuck out even though it's likely that the only reason he didn't die in the fireball Ishamael made was that the wolves "just a weave"-d it.

(Also: Hi Hopper! Who's a good boy?)

A sword, hanging hilt down in the air, apparently without support, seemingly where anyone could reach out and take it. It revolved slowly, as if some breath of air caught it. Yet it was not really a sword.

I beg you to remember that Callandor, no matter how many times Rand misuses it along the way, is not a weapon. It's not really a sword. It's a trap.

Callandor. Who wields me wields destiny. Take me, and begin the final journey.

Is Callandor just calling to anyone who can find it in T'A'R? Is it programmed to respond to ta'veren who find it there enough times because no one foresaw Mat and Perrin's existence? Of course not. Perrin is now pushing his way into a dream meant for Rand, same way he pushed his way into that private conversation. No wonder our other boy is so impatient, putting up with months of manipulation by the shadow.

The thought was clear in his head, but the thought was not his own. The Twisted Ones come, brother.

And of course, the Shadow descends to cause chaos while it's trying to keep Rand busy, to maximize his despair, and immediately after trying to get Perrin to become a pacifist, to minimize his response against them.

Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), they have no idea how to talk to Third Agers so none of their schemes fully work out.

Next time: The Twisted Ones!

[im-no-jedi]

sometimes I look at how quickly people are able to write and update their fics and I’m like how????? and then I remember that 1) I’m neurodivergent, 2) I’m not constantly at my computer, and 3) not everybody likes to proofread their fics like I do LOL

[trans-cuchulainn]

What are the major details that confused you about the Hound blurb? The major one that stood put to me was the "way of the farmer opposed to the sword" thing which felt very...un-Cú Chulainn. Also, if you don't mind expanding further, which details didn't you question/be confused by?

and also for anon:

okay so it is like. 2am so there are not going to be any sources here but i can't sleep so here goes!! i will go through this blurb line by line and give youse my thoughts

In 50 BCE,

reasonable. this is roughly the right time period for when the ulster cycle is set. maybe marginally earlier than i'd place cú chulainn, but i'm talking a few years, nothing to get worked up about.

Morrigan, the goddess of war,

fine. normally i'm wary of pantheonising impulses with regard to irish characters (almost none of them can be identified as a god of anything in particular, it doesn't work like that) but tbh the morrigan is like, the most plausible exception to that, so whatever. normally her name has the definite article attached to it because it's kind of a species term as well but whatevs.

has become restless as a long-lasting peace settles over Ireland.

dubious. closest i can think of to peace being reference in any texts is togail bruidne da derga talking about conaire mor's reign being like, prosperous and peaceful and whatever, and even there you've got díberg (plundering/reaving) which is what eventually fucks him over and starts the otherworldly hell spiral situation. that's roughly the right period here but conaire's doom proves you don't have to do much to nudge peace into war, and connacht and ulster are at each other's throats for years before cú chulainn comes on the scene anyway

Deciding the time of peace must end, she chooses Setanta, the nephew of the king of the north, to become her ward.

hmm. i mean. like, this isn't the WEIRDEST choice they could have made. it's still completely made-up, don't get me wrong -- cú chulainn has a lot of different foster parents in different texts and they don't agree with each other but none of them ever mentions the morrígan. but like, they do have a connection of some sort, as evidenced by their conversations. and there's that one moment in the r1 boyhood deeds where little cú chulainn is out on the battlefield and hears her (not sure which name is used here) calling out to him and it like. motivates him to do some deeds or whatever, and i guess you could extrapolate that into some kind of teaching capacity.

so like. could be weirder. if you're gonna pick anyone, you could do worse. still seems weird to me! but not on its own a major issue, i could get past this and consider it a Fun But Unorthodox Creative Decision

(the fact that she tries to seduce him in the táin probably wouldn't get in the way of this considering sleeping with his teachers/foster-mothers is far from unheard of where cú chulainn is concerned)

After a young Setanta slays the demon-hound of Cullan, he becomes known as Cú Cullan—The Hound of Cullan.

weird spelling choices, they could have at least bothered to use the genitive properly. also the hound isn't a demon, it's a ferocious watchdog -- making it sound all Otherworldly and Hellish like this kinda confuses the issue of why he would need to take its place. he needs to take its place because the cattle and people still need protecting because it is a watchdog!! but whatevs, again, it's a brief summary so they can't exactly give us all the details and this is not actively objectionable

As Cú Cullan grows older, it is apparent that an extraordinary power lies within him … and a great darkness.

ugh boring. this makes it sound like he's going to be ~tortured~ and angsty about it. give me an unapologetic murder teen please. is the ríastrad dark? sure i guess, if you're going to be boring about it. it's more like, grotesque neon in my head

When he chooses the quiet life of a farmer over the sword,

this would fucking never happen on like five different levels. obviously like anyone who has ever read anything about cú chulainn can see that this is not in his nature. he is never going to choose a quiet life. this is the kid who tricked his way into taking arms before everyone thought he was ready. also juxtaposed with the "darkness" comment makes it sound like he would Angst his way into this quiet life which. again. have you seen this kid. he is an unapologetic murder teen

the only thing i can think of that might make him temporarily want to walk away is connla's death which... depends where you position that in the timeline really, he does seem a bit fucked up by it and maybe he'd want a holiday although i can see that lasting precisely 5 minutes before someone pissed him off enough for him to murder them. but if he's being raised by the morrígan i can't see him going to train with scáthach so then he'd never meet aífe and therefore connla would never be born so that wouldn't happen. so like. whatever.

but also like. he would not become a farmer. he just wouldn't! it doesn't work! the ireland of the stories is super hierarchical, right? and this blurb has already fucking told us that he's the king's nephew (canon) so we can tell that being a farmer is Not His Place. when we see upper class figures becoming menial labourers in texts, like in cath maige tuired, it's because Things Are Fucked, Shit's Gone Wrong. people don't just decide to change their entire social class on a whim lmfao

if cú chulainn really wanted to turn his back on being a warrior he could probably make recourse to certain other Suitable Professions ... his grandad's a druid so he might have a route into that, though his dad's not so that might fuck things up a bit bc it's one of those things that's usually inherited. he does give "wisdom" in at least one text though and we also know he can write (he carves riddles in ogham in the táin) and he composes verses on various occasions so idk, maybe something in a poetic direction, though again, usually requires two generations of inheritance to be a real poet and not just a lower-class bard. warrior's kinda the main thing he's got open to him tbh. but farming? i'm not a legal expert but as far as i'm aware based on what i have read, that would fuck shit up

more likely an upset cú chulainn would just go off in search of an adventure somewhere conveniently far away until he'd calmed down (alba, or the tyrrhenian sea, or -- if we're going to get early modern about it -- somewhere like india, which frequently gets thrown into the texts with absolutely no cultural context and it's always hilarious)

Morrigan, angry at the betrayal,

of the entire social order, yes,

instigates an invasion of his homeland

i mean. if they intend this to be the táin then.... táin bó regamna does kinda make the morrígan responsible for it? not in the sense of triggering the pillow talk argument that it's in the book of leinster -- it's her getting up to her usual cow-nicking behaviours for shits and giggles. [note to readers: it is probably for more than shits and giggles but did i mention it's 2am]

but all in all, not particularly out of character that she would be at least some way responsible for this so i can vibe with this. echtra nerai also supports the TBR explanation with her fucking around with otherworldly cows and pissing people off so, yeah, whatever. the morrígan engineered this. sure.

and Cú Cullan must challenge fate itself

this is probably a controversial stance but fate feels like a difficult concept to apply to medieval irish texts. like are people sometimes Doomed? yes. there are prophecies, there are gessi, there's all manner of otherworldly fuckery that can trip you up. is that the same thing as fate? no idea. considering cú chulainn comes out alive from the táin though and his doom prophecies don't catch up to him for like, at least another decade, maybe 16 years depending on who you listen to, hard to see how that would apply here

to keep the goddess at bay.

again like she IS causing fuckery in the táin but also it's like... one time. really not the main character. but she or maybe just some crows, hard to say, do get implicated in the death tale so maybe they're doing what people often do and conflating the two? even though there's like 10-16 years in between them?

anyway as you can see i don’t think it’s wholly terrible / i’m not completely thinkshaming it. like, having cú chulainn raised by the morrígan is unorthodox but it could be a fun and creative direction so i don't object to it. making cú chulainn get sad about murder and choose to be a farmer is just fucking laughable tho, and makes me doubt their characterisations in general. so that's offputting and would probably make me think twice about buying it, if that had ever been on the cards.*

and of course sure, their cú chulainn can be a Sad Boy Who Likes Sheep, but that means he's not the cú chulainn of medieval irish lit / irish myth, because that cú chulainn is a feral murder teen who keeps killing his friends and also is way too high social status to ever be a farmer, and whose only relationship to livestock is as the watchdog who kills anyone trying to harm them (which is an important role on a farm! but like. not the same thing as Being A Farmer. mostly because it involves more murder and is essentially just an extension of his role as a warrior. or rather the other way around. he promises to protect mag muirthemne as a watchdog and this like. gets extended into him becoming its sole defender)

this has been my analysis of this blurb i hope you enjoyed it

it's now 2.30am i should try and sleep now that i've exorcised a few thoughts from my head

*as i mentioned in the tags of my other post, i don't tend to read graphic novels due to disability stuff. they're much harder for me to understand and follow than prose, to the point where some are incomprehensible, so i don't really enjoy them. there are a few i've read, but they tend to be short ones, and i'm usually not reading them in order, just admiring the art separately from the text. so it's unlikely i would read a graphic novel of this size anyway.

[hedjblogr]

If you count your Clones as your own characters, what is their preferred day to wind down after a stressful day? What kind kind day is stressful for them? If you don't, the same questions but for your sylvari. - moonlit-grove

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES this is gonna get long i am doing ALL my clones i made in GW2 not just my GW2 character ones

so in birthday order:

oh god ahah sometimes i forget i have a character called Armored Temmie. they are VERY stress when they cannot pet hoomin......... petting hoomin.... reliev STRESS!!!!! (in seriousness, being a temmie is very hard when you work at an interdimensional café and your boss is having you deliver donuts to scarlet briar in an attempt to divert the course of history. helping people out outside of work helps them wind down immensely)

Steben Uwuninu is just a lil boy! he’s a lil mans! (he’s a pre-Lapis Steven Universe AU i RP with a buddy, some tragedy in his backstory but he has the best family) sometimes he gets stressed when there’s a problem he can’t solve, and likes to unwind with video games, making music and exploring!

Tesco Value Eir (my first GW2 character clone!) is stressed out by the burden of her legend even if it’s not technically hers and likes to unwind through some lower-stakes hunting, or by doing some ice carving. and petting her many, many dogs, all of which are called garm. :thonk:

oh hey we’re getting into the Legacy of Kain clones now (the next 3)

Scion Kain gets stressed out when Raziel is getting himself into trouble (this happens often) and when things stop going to plan (this happens more often than he’d care to admit). he de-stresses by being a pain in everyone’s ass, reading and discussing ancient cultures and philosophy, going on rampages, and spending quality time with Raziel (which often just means being his personal pain in the ass)

Priestess Umah is just stressed all the time because the weight of vampirekind rests on the shoulders of a TOTAL ASSHOLE,,, but she unwinds through gentler exercise (soft martial arts type stuff), meditation and a bit of light reading. despite being fucking stacked and fighty as hell she prefers mental pursuits

Dionisie Audron is a weird one bc he’s both a clone and an OC for reasons i can’t go into 🤫 but i’ll talk specifically about the clone side of things. he finds it very stressful when people are not taking their jobs seriously and being thoughtless... and he finds massages, reading, and meditation very relaxing. also baths! he loves baths. nice smelling bath with some candles and incense and the stress just melts away

Goodwill Trahearne is my trahearne clone and while i don’t have a ton of stuff down for him, the most stressful days for him are the ones where it’s made clear just how much is expected of him - when the day’s work is through he likes to settle down with a good book, maybe pet a sylvan hound, and fall asleep in his chair because he stays up way too late and forgets to sleep until his body forces him to

Discount Canach is my canach clone, who i do have very solid answers for. his biggest stressors are when he can’t control a situation, when it’s completely out of his hands - for example, when a certain IDIOT TRIBUNE decides to RUN IN SWORDS BLAZING and NOT STOP AND THINK OF A PLAN. and he also gets stressed out when a planned controlled situation falls apart despite his careful planning. this can be something as big as a mission or as small as a half hour delay getting something/someplace on his worst days. he can be very high strung at times; the worst part is he’s very conscious of this

if he gets a chance to unwind after a day that’s just completely fell apart, one way he blows off steam is through snark actually! mutual snark is the best. it’s like a gentle venting of pressure. this man’s a damn pressure cooker, if you take the lid off too fast he’ll blow. gotta let him vent gently and slowly. he’d never admit it aloud to many but he also likes bathing, even if that means having water dunked on his head/ (people like doing this to him for some reason. something something watering their cactus.) he hates it less than he lets on. physically cooling down cools him down mentally too!

wew sorry that one got massively long but listen i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about canach specifically

OKAY next clone is Rythunk Brimstud who’s a rytlock clone... ish. i’m still playing with this idea rn but i actually had the idea that he might be one of rytlock’s younger cubs in an au where rytlock dies for some reason?? and he ends up invoking him as a spirit through the mists. and gradually uh. letting his late dad take over his body so he can continue his work because he feels like the world needs rytlock more than they need rytlock’s cub. 😥 (rytlock isn't actually super happy with this!! he's kind of pissed!! it's a constant struggle)

but yeah uh rythunk finds that whole living up to expectations thing stressful. he’s charr, and in the thick of it, and having to be both himself and his dad. every day is stress. he likes playing guitar to destress, and he’s actually pretty good at it! so a day where he can get a lot of guitar practice in is good, maybe just find a nice cliff and jam out to no one in particular

next on my clone list is Could Be Caithe... any instance where she's expected to work with others is stressful even if she's trying harder now, trust is a two way street and she's painfully aware she has not earned everyone's trust back yet and may never. and relying on others is hard.

but, if she gets to spend time exploring with no stakes, or listening to music, or any time spent with aurene - that's something very relaxing and relieving to her

Maybe Malomedies is my next clone - and to elaborate, he's somewhat divergent because he was blighted by Trahearne as a result of dying due to a series of very unfortunate events :> which is why his colours are off the shits and he looks quite different from his canon counterpart

his interests are much the same though! he loves stargazing, talking to others about the machinations of fate and the different constellations he's discovered and what they mean - in his own culture and other cultures! and different constellations other people have discovered too!

forgiving as he is, anything that brushes too close to his past trauma still causes stress. he can't set foot near inquest anything, and it's good to have patience with him if he's near or in any asuran settlements. it's gonna be a bad day if he has to deal with anything like that, or anything related to the branded for that matter. certain visions can also just set him off to a really bad start as well; he's had a habit of seeing deaths lately. :-)

and my last real clone, Precocious Aurene. she's actually a sylvari avatar for Aurene to explore relatively incognito and spend time with her family without causing a stir! and to just kind of... be a kid.

while in this avatar, it's stressful if people start getting hints of who she is or guessing - because the last thing she wants is for it to get out that she's doing this at all. and if the All is particularly loud, or an area is particularly intense with magic, it can become a little overwhelming for her

however part of the beauty of this disguise is it IS her stress relief - she doesn't have to be an Elder Dragon. she can just be... herself. she can just be a kid. she can experience the world like everyone else does, and anything she can do is wonderful

ooookay i think that's everyone! 8)

[scienceoftheidiot]

So you know what it’s wednesday you’re getting an infodump on Desden’s blindness.

Beware. I’m a biologist. I’m a nerd. And I’m a teacher. You know what’s coming, right ? 

I just reblogged an extremely interesting and great post about writing blind characters that I advise you to go and read now (I haven't finished yet) because it's just full of info and contrary to usual posts like that it's not guilt tripping or anything. I love this post and OP for this. However I've noticed there's a bunch of advices I don't follow myself and I felt like I could expand and why and how I think it's not a bad thing. Here's the first one : don’t make your character blind through an accident. Because drama. 

So yeah. Desden lost his sight due to some kind of accident. Which is thoroughly described by a mysterious bystander’s flashback in chap.3. So that’s not a spoiler. But how can a brick through the head make you blind ? 

Brain. Brains are evil. You know I got a PhD in biology : I am sad to admit I couldn’t go through with my love of neurology because it was competing with my love for bacteria and parasites that can kill you and happily live everywhere. Life’s though. No neuro for me, welcome to viral ecology (viruses are obligatory parasites, sue me). But not only can’t I help being a nerd... I have an uncle in my family who lost part of his vision from a brain haematoma (not due to trauma, but the result and how it works is the same). Who’s also a nerd. (And a PhD in physics cause like that’s what nerds do, right ?) And he explained in details how he lost his vision (and gained back some of it over time) to us.

If you cut blood supply to parts of the brain for long enough, this part will die. Logic. Head trauma can do that and more. So, what happened is that Desden’s visual cortex got cut from blood supply for a relatively long amount of time (he can thank the extremely cold weather of the day it happened, which makes your body turn into “low survival mode”, when the “accident” happened for 1) being still alive and 2) not losing more than most of his sight, some balance, and a bunch of memories). But the brain is a funny little thing and some times it does stuff (not going into the haematoma part, I’m not a doc, it’s long and not very relevant, but it has to be taken into account cause it’s what can make part of the lost sight reappear). So Desden was totally blind for a while, then his brain managed to get some of his sight back. Very little. 

But what and how does he see ? 

See, the brain is constructed so that the visual cortex’s position reflects the visual field you have, except in reverse. Sorry. I’m a teacher. I’m going to add a schema. But in French because I actually work with this (well. Nope. They changed the program but I have old program lessons lying around just in case) and I’m lazy today. Just look at the pretty colours. It shows you what I just explained very badly because I’m used to use schemas, but here’s what you need to understand. 

SOOOO. Basically make most of the colour disappear except for a very small part of blue at the far right of the visual cortex. Meaning that in the end, what Desden can see is an extremely reduced part of peripheral vision. Try to fix your eyes on a point in front of you and describe what is at the far corner of your left eye. Good luck. (and let me tell you I know I have extremely good peripheral vision myself, it’s still composed by what your brain KNOWS is around. From seeing it with the other parts of your field of vision. Because your brain is constantly MAKING UP what you’re seeing from a lot of information including past ones when you didn’t even think about it but your eyes brushed that part. Your senses are fucked up. Deal with it. Your brain is playing tricks on you right now.)

This is why, btw, he’s often described tilting his head on the right. He doesn’t have much control on his eye movement so he tries to get some info on people (mostly light and colours but since his visual memory is fucked up, it’s not very useful)

His eyes move. He just doesn’t really control them. In fact they’re often if not constantly moving because head trauma is often linked to the apparition of a nystagmus, which is a rapid eye movement to the side or up and down - my brother has that, vertical, did you know it existed ? well I do. A friend of my parents has a horizontal one that is a lot more visible. Constantly. She’s not blind, her brain compensates this. Brains are both evil and awesome. Deal with it.

Oh and his eyes are perfectly normal. Even quite pretty, as he describes them himself. He still wears sunglasses because his brain doesn’t like strong light which give him migraines, because it has a hard time processing visual info. 

His eyes also work perfectly (well as perfectly as they did before his accident, which is okay but a little nearsighted) which leads to the only thing that sounds like a superpower that isn’t one : blindsight. If you research it you’ll learn about people who can do absolutely crazy things like catch stuff that’s thrown at them or avoid most obstacles on a path while being totally blind, because BRAINS, AGAIN. Your brain doesn’t only process visual cues through the visual cortex; there’s a slight part in the “primitive brain” or “lizard brain” that does, too. So basically Desden’s body can see stuff but he’s not aware of it consciously. He’s NOT using it and he’s NOT as good as the people I cited above. But for example he has insights he souldn’t have on people’s moods, because his lizard brain picks their faces up. Not always, and it’s often more when someone’s in a VERY bad mood that SHOWS. And since he’s not aware of it he takes that as hints from his other senses. It’s NOT compensating for his blindness - if anything, it’s a silly trick. BUT I AM A NERD, REMEMBER ?

Anyway. Now you know. Desden still lost his vision through an accident which, as said in the reference post i’m refering to (haha) would be bad if it was used for drama but, in fact, I try to avoid most of it because apart from the accident, which is witnessed by someone else who is important to the later plot, nothing from Desden’s life before or after it is described in details. My novel starts 9 years after the accident. He’s got time to get used to being blind. 

*I* know everything that happened in his life, or most of the important things anyway, that lead to the opening of the book, but you will only get scraps of it because it’s not what’s relevant. It’s important for the construction of the character, but what I want to show here is not Desden’s journey through being used to being blind. It’s his journey through accepting his family heritage, which has nothing to do with being blind, and sharing it with the rest of his family while it stayed hidden to them until then because the person who kept this before him was an arsehole. There are a lot of plot points that are linked to Desden’s blindness, including said arsehole arseholery (I be good with words), but it’s not the point of the book. 

Y’all know I’m a Daredevil fan. That’s where I got the idea of a blind character (not only), but now erase that from your mind. Desden doesn’t have any superpower that compensate his blindness. He’s got pretty good hearing because he’s used to use it a lot more than when he was sighted. It’s not better. He loves music, but he’s absolutely tone deaf so forget the blind piano tuner/musician cliché (this is a joke in one of my AUs, in fact)(explanation : in France, which is the country I research for because I’m French and my story takes place in France, the most prominent school for the blind used to primarily teach people to become piano tuners during the 20th century). He’s got a very good nose, but that’s just how it is, and since I’m using my own experience of rediscovering my sense of smell after years of living with smoking people (don’t smoke) (yeah, even you, Desden) I know it’s not superhuman. In fact my own nose is pretty shitty compared to my mom’s. Who is a fucking hunting hound. Anwyay I digress. 

Desden often chases any comment that restrict him to being “the blind guy” by stating stuff he does or likes to do, like “I’m also a good tarot player but no one ever mentions that” or “my brownies are the best ones and I don’t even need to add pot to it”. This is how he feels about it. He’s blind. It’s okay, it’s part of him. But it’s not his sole characteristic. 

I think I’m done here. I haven’t touched on other people’s reaction to him that much, and if you’re interested you can ask questions. Basically remember he’s a 1,98m guy, with broad shoulders, and that’s the first thing you see from him. Also there’s his guide dog Kalinka. 

Lot more things to talk about, not that much time. So if you’re interested in knowing more, poke me, and I might write more about my character. 

Lastly and more importantly : if you see things that you can correct in this post, please do so. As I said, I’m a nerd, but I’m not a neurologist. I’m going the vulgarized version. And I like to be taught things. So if you see mistakes, tell me. 

Peace ! 

[ultramaga]

“Dear Sir - Don’t Let #MeToo Make You Afraid of Me“ Because if you are afraid, you might take defensive measures, instead of being a victim when it suits us. “Men appear to be afraid of me.” Feminists claim that men are the evil oppressors, yet Feminists are the ones in power, and men grovel and scrape before them. Who is oppressing whom? “ A male superior at work asked, “Is it okay to say that?” after complimenting me on a new pair of “funky” boots. “ Not at my former workplace. Compliments were banned, for fear of sexual harassment charges. Feminists put in the laws - then moved the goalposts for them to infinity. In the UK, this even extends to asking someone what time it is. “Another man apologized profusely after tapping my elbow. “ Feminists changed that to be assault, so at their whim, yes, they can destroy a man for tapping their elbow. If you see a Feminist about to fall into machinery, say nothing. It’s the only safe thing to do. " it’s more likely a sign that men are unsure of how to interact with women.” Record everything, and don’t talk to them alone. Yes, Feminists have succeeded in the goal of splitting humanity into two segregated parts. Well done. No wonder they are so keen on Sharia. “It’s an unintended consequence of the movement” Bullshit. Read “The Future is Female” to find out this has been their goal all along. They just want to keep men and women confused while they seize more and more power. " Lean In and SurveyMonkey found that nearly half of male managers are uncomfortable participating in mentoring, working alone, or socializing together with women” Only half? I guess the rest will learn. Do not mentor women, do not work alone or socialise with women from the workplace. In fact, at my old job, fraternisation was completely banned, to the point it occurred secretly only. Because women - generally - are heterosexual, and want men, and need men to make the first move, and without that cannot find love. There shall be no love in the Feminist Utopia.

Feminists do not experience love, of course, and cannot comprehend that need. They despise it in men, and think it is a result of the hypnosis of Patriarchy when they see it in women.

“ A recent Harvard Business Review study exploring the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements' impacts on creating lasting improvements in their organizations revealed some adverse reactions.” Only some? Dividing men and women, making them enemies, only has SOME ADVERSE REACTIONS? I have to wonder what the hell the benefits are to that, from a business perspective. I suppose you could sell both sides bullets? “Men and women are not talking to each other. The environment is becoming sterile and completely unenjoyable to work in,” Gosh. Who could have foreseen that?

" According to the survey, 65% of men indicated that since the movements began it’s “less safe” to mentor and coach their female colleagues. This unintentional consequence hurts the women the movement was meant to serve.”

World Ends: Women and Minorities Hardest Hit

Feminists will always spin anything that hurts men. They cannot stand seeing men being cared for. “Strangely, it’s men who aren’t doing anything wrong who are feeling needlessly nervous” Because the defence of innocence has been stripped away.

"why are so many men stumbling in their ordinary discourse and interactions with women at work? “ Because they know they are guilty until proven innocent - it is simply up to the whims of any woman as to whether they are sacked - or worse. Even with Kavanaugh, with years of failure from Feminists to find anything to destroy him with, they succeeded in poisoning the well of public opinion. Control social media, and you control the minds of the masses.

"Of course, there are bad actors still lurking in the office” Note that Feminists never admit the bad actors could be female? Only males are guilty, all women are victims, and feminists never, ever lie ... " this mistrust comes with a huge opportunity cost for working women — missing out on mentorship by men with valuable experience and skill sets to share”

If you are a woman who stood by and yawned while men had their rights stripped away, this is the future you deserve. If you are a Feminist, you cannot be surprised when the men you defecate on don’t want anything to do with you. "Imagine if someone watched you eat for week, and pointed out all the stuff that was unhealthy, but never thought to tell you about what was healthy. “ Except that they had no science behind their beliefs, just power, the power to hurt you arbitrarily. That’s what Feminism is - power without reason, power for its own sake, the power to cause pain and the lust to glory in that pain. "So, to all our male colleagues — it’s okay to compliment a haircut or outfit.” No, it’s a crime thanks to Feminism. Feminists will happily lie to you to get you to do it - then turn around and destroy you the second they feel like it. Look at how Mattress Girl acted, pursuing a man, and when he said no, pretending he had raped her. His evidence of her pursuit long after the alleged rape didn’t matter - she was supported by the University and he was hounded. "Don’t comment on how someone’s body looks, how their appearance makes you feel, or what someone should wear.” Stifle your feelings. Do not express emotion. Feminists hate that. It’s toxic masculinity for a man to ... act like a woman. " think about complimenting women for their work” Because that‘s what humans do when they are attracted to each other. Hello, work unit. Your output is: adequate. See. You. Tomorrow. [*robotic wave*]

"As for mentoring and meetings, if it’s feels uncomfortable to take a woman out to a drink, then take her to breakfast” Whatever you do, do not take her out for breakfast. There is absolutely no reason for this not to be seen as intimate behaviour. "lunch” Only if you are prepared to record it all or have a third party as a chaperone. "coffee” Oh yes, there is no possible way a feminist wouldn’t interpret asking a woman for coffee as sexual harassment. Jesus bloody Christ, this Reeves is an idiot! " If you are still uncertain, consider mentoring a pair of women or larger group and take them out together. “ Because it’s not like Feminists conspire when they want to get rid of someone.

" Let the mentee drive the relationship. “ I don’t think this moron understands what a Mentor IS. “Please tell me how often, when, and where you want to meet." Because women respect men who grovel and beg? JFC! "We need to work together more now than ever. “ You had a chance to do that. You made men your enemy. It’s a bit late to whine about it now.

Feminists decided long ago that men had no place in the world. Men are starting to wake up to that. And at some point, we are going to have to put their beliefs to the test.

But here’s the thing. It’s not the Feminists who are carrying the guns.