#cursed number notation

[michaelrotonal]

cursed number notation 16

1 = A

2 = AB

3 = B

4 = BA

5 = ABC

6 = BC

7 = BCA

8 = AC

9 = C

10 = CA

11 = ACB

12 = CB

13 = CBA

[moltensmusings]

Team Shadowgear headcanons/rewrites for fun. Note, it'll be a bit lengthy:

Levy, Jet, and Droy all get orphaned by the same monster attack on their village. Some older fairy tail mages save them from the destruction and one of them keeps the group housed even until modern day.

The trio have a sibling bond and are intensely supportive of each other, capable of knowing which areas they aren't great at and who excells.

The placement of Jet, Droy, and Levy's guildmark was chosen by levy, but the name rather than just being decided by Levy, was heavily debated among them for about a year before they settled on it.

In celebration of them going on their first mission unattended they get ear piercings. Almost like a rite of passage/adulthood. This was a Jet request as he always wanted some. (Note this is why I always draw them with the same piercings.)

They specialize in curse breaking, historical notations, and general collection of knowledge. Very much not a combat based group, often they go with other mages/groups for support and recon.

Levy has a habit of hoarding books. Droy and later on freed are the 2 who help her go through and remake books/rewrite them to help avoid rot that comes with older transcripts she finds.

Levy knows how to cast magic through sign language which is an incredibly complicated skill and can make script magic unstable of the mage isn't practiced enough. It's quicker to cast but trickier to get right.

Jet has to get specific magical shoes that are reinforced and sturdy due to his magic constantly wearing them out. He got so bummed about this that it leads to a decent portion of the guild spending a week helping him figure out how to preserve what he has.

Droy is the only one in shadowgear who can handle spice. He makes his food far too spicy and has learned to make separate portions for Levy and Jet.

Droy is the most friendly and easy to get along with in the group. It's not that they others are unfriendly, more that they get lost in their own worlds at times and aren't as focused on proper human connection. Though there aren't many close friends of Droy in the guild.

Jet has a more questionable sense of humor, he tends to find comedy in really tense and dangerous situations.

Juvia joins them a few months after getting into fairy tail due to a growing friendship with Droy as she takes up gardening as a hobby to try and figure herself out.

Gajeel joins a few weeks later, he actually would've become a bit more friendly with Jet since Makarov would've had both of them working on information gathering. Also Juvia wanting to work as a team with gajeel again.

Juvia bought Gajeel his guitar he always uses and considers herself his number one fan since she supported him even before joining fairy tail. She will fight people on it.

There is a lot of bad blood and tension between Gajeel and Levy at the start. She outright hates the man and doesn't take it easy on him causing him to have to work overtime to prove his intentions to improve and change.

When Lily does join he initially feels intensely awkward due to this hatred and an understanding that he should not involve himself and try to quell things. He tends to just pretend he can't hear or see anything since he knows how best to mind his business after years of politics and service to nobles.

Levy agrees to let Gajeel help her during Tenrou mainly because he's the only teammate who won't take it easy/will push her and it's the first time there's a clear amount of trust between the two of them enough for it to almost be said they're friends.

Juvia gets approached by Makarov before tenrou Island to see if she'd actually be willing to test for S-class, and ultimately, she refuses. Makarov wants his kids to improve but is also supportive of them figuring things out on their own and taking their time.

Droy grows various foods for the guild and guides plants into reinforcing damages the guild sustains. Him and Laki work overtime during the timeskip to keep the guildhall standing and develop a friendship.

Juvia starts a clothing line during the timeskip. Mainly, it's for children, though she also has a fair bit of exceed customers. She also makes custom dolls when requested to match her patrons.

Jet works mainly on infiltration and information gathering over the timeskip. Becoming closer with Warren, Vijeeter, lamia scale and the trimen as they all search out the missing members of the guild. He avidly refuses to accept anyone has died. Chico also assists in the efforts by conversing with spirits and making entirely sure none of the members appear after death.

Droy is naturally fat but was dieting and unhealthy with trying to stay slim, his focus shirting to caring for the guild means he goes back to his natural weight and is the most content he's been in years in spite of his grief.

Juvia post time skip is one of the main mages that keep the guild standing due to just how terrifying her abilities are. While the guild does have squabbles with rivals who want to take over the territory, no one is keen to cross her and she often calls some rain to make a point if people get to bold in their threats to the guild.

Jet started learning languages over the time skip. He and droy had a rough understanding of some prior to tenrou Island due to Levy's insistence, but as he runs more missions he does begin taking it more seriously. He's nowhere near Levy's level or knowledge, but he has a few learned by the time the tenrou crew returns.

Juvia knows how to speak 3 languages. What would be the equivalent of French, Russian, and English.

Droy is able to clock almost any plant and explain it's good and bad effects. He gets very excited about it and often rambles.

Droy, Jet, and Juvia typically try meeting for meals at least once a week just to catch up and keep the bond tight. They meet more often then that when Jet isn't on missions.

There's a noticeable shift in Gajeel and Levy's dynamic post Tenrou. Nothing explicitly romantic at first but Jet, Droy, and Levy see the beginnings of something and start a betting pool on what they think will happen. Most of the guild gets involved.

Pantherlily is fantastic with kids and considered the guild babysitter by most. He's the most easily able to handle being rough and grabbed.

I know I have more but that's my list for now. Featuring a height chart:

[dragonprincedrabbles]

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[blatantescapism]

So, David Reeve did the calligraphy, but the linguistic system is by David Salo.

Now unfortunately, unlike the LotR movies, the Hobbit movies are just not all that great.

One of their bad choices was to double down on the racist and ableist tropes in their portrayal of the Orcs.

Tolkien wrote that the Orcs spoke “crude jargons, barely sufficient for their needs, unless they were curses and insults”, and David Salo extrapolated that they should be “disorganized and inconsistent” (source)

and by golly, they absolutely succeeded in making the shittest, least internally consistent numerical system possible.

Take a closer look: the spoken words for the number “30” as given above have a completely different syntax / counting base than the written system.

Out loud, the Orc says “three tens”, so that’s counting in base ten. Just like English.

In writing, the Orc indicates one set of thirty with six strokes each of value 5, which means they’re using hybrid base units.

It’s a tally system without internal consistency! Below the line you can’t count past 4, but you can distinguish 6 strokes above the line??

You’d think that if your writing system has a unique indicator for “thirty”, you would also have a unique spoken word for “thirty”.

but nooooo

Basically, Orcish numbers have all the same problems as French numbers, but backwards and worse.

(Comparing French to Orcish below the cut)

Let’s take a look at the number 97 in English, French, and Orcish.

English

uses Arabic numerals 0-9, written in base ten.

97 is how we write this number.

the numeral nine is in the tens place, and the numeral six is in the ones place.

We would say “nine-ten seven”, but over time our mouths got lazy and we turned the word “ten” into the “-ty” suffix. So we say ninety seven.

French

Spoken French uses a mix of base 10 and base 20.

The number 97 is said “quatre-vingt, dix-sept”

which translates literally as “four-twenty, ten-seven.”

For clarity, we can write this as (4x20) + 17.

If the notation system was in base 20, there would be a unique, stand-alone, single symbol for the word and concept of “seventeen”. (There would in fact be unique symbols for every number from 0 to 19.) Let’s use the euro symbol (€) as a placeholder for that nonexistent symbol. Got it? “€” is now officially pronounced “dix-sept”.

In our hypothetical base-twenty numeral system,

4€ is how the French would write this same number.

the numeral quatre is in the vingt place, and the numeral dix-sept is in the un place. You say it exactly like it’s written.

97 (in base 10) = 4€ (in base 20).

Irl they use base 10 of course, so there’s a bit of a mismatch between what is said and what is written, but at least the mental math factors evenly.

Orcish

So we know that David Reeve’s spoken Orcish uses base 10, because we see in the translation above that they count by tens. They indicate 30 as three tens (ishor-pog).

I did some digging about, and found a few more numbers to add to our vocabulary:

1 = ash (both Yrksk and Black Speech)

2 = bun (Yrksk)

3 = ishor (Yrksk), shre (Black Speech)

5 = krak (fan consensus)

7 = ombi (Black Speech)

9 = nugu (Black Speech)

10 = pog (Yrksk)

1,000 = tunum (Yrksk)

So 97 (nine-ten seven) translates directly to “nugu-pog ombi” in spoken Orcish.

You’d expect their written system to likewise indicate that there are nine units of 10, plus seven.

But instead,

you have to write “three units of 30, one unit of 5, and two units of 1.”

When you boil the tally system down, each of those units has a different location or “place”, so you’re essentially writing “312”.

97 = 312.

(9 x 10) + 7 = (3 x 30) + (1 x 5) + (2).

nugu-pog ombi = ishor-ishorpog krak bun.

Let’s try a different number, like 51.

51 = 121.

(5 x 10) + 1 = (1 x 30) + (2 x 5) + (1).

krak-pog ash = ishor-pog bun-krak ash

Let’s write the numbers from 27 to 37!

52, 53, 54, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 110, 111, 112!

how the fuck are you supposed to do arithmetic in this world

i've been rewatching the hobbit movies since i haven't actually seen them properly since they came out so i just started the desolation of smaug, and i was reminded of this message apparently written in the black speech

i always assumed it was just some random scrawling to look spooky but i decided to look into it, turns out it's actually a fully developed writing system!

was designed by david reeve, who did all the calligraphy and a lot of the art for the movies (and even ROP apparently)

there's even some other samples of it on props that were made for goblin-town!

it's very cool, i never knew about this before :3

[jonathankatwhatever]

This is almost too delicious. It’s 26 Mar 2024, and the part change I made last night filtered into my process this morning. The impulse was obvious: take a look and see if I still looked good to myself, knowing there would be some change. As I was working through the alternatives, and sometimes cursing my thinned hair as I uncovered the max of what I look like with as little hair as could fit this length for the sides and back. I have been working toward something in the middle, I think, because long hair is a bother for me, can’t stop playing with it, worrying about it. That’s a detail in Storyline, that Jo grows out her hair before, following those impulses generated by the identification with G. And I like playing with my hair somewhat, so too short is too far, and would be replaced by other worries about my appearance. These may be more annoying than the ones I experience now.

At some point in this I suddenly realized this was me in the mirror when I was young. The same discussions. The same back and forth. The same worrying. The same fracturing of perspective into perspectives: this is me, but not if I look at me like this, and then this is me because that’s the state I can visualize as an End, rather than the transitional states where I may look stellar to myself, where I may be carrying the pose off perfectly in my eyes, however I am actually doing it in the room. In the xyR. That’s a good one: the conception of an xyR is that there’s an Actuality occurring within a gsSpace. It’s a room because that draws boundaries to and from the Actuality. Like no one but you know what goes on in the room, but others have ideas about it. Imagine a child in a room and it’s easy to see how a parent comes in and out, and how the connection to that room exists when the parent is not physically there. That visualizes an xyR well: the Actuality is whatever is within that Room and whatever connects to that Room, meaning it also serves as a memory store. It is xyR to reference this is gsSpace.

The construction of gsSpace should now be getting obvious. Take a look at the M-set: it is all the complex values which converge to 0 when the process is to take that complex number square it, add the number to that result and square it, over and over. That is making grid squares at each level. And those are the grid squares which - this is the difficult part, right? Getting out what the process itself means - draw a path to and from that point to 0.

Now comes the super challenging part: how do I express what that 0 means in terms of twisting K’s? Oh here is a good place to note the K notation uses the small k notation for iteration up to a certain amount and capitalizes it to indicate grid squares. Grid squares are constructions up to a certain amount. This includes infinite series since we use n-1 as K. You know, I’ve never thought about that and maybe this is a good detour so I can avoid thinking about the hard question. The n and k and n and K switch is fundamental to D-structure.

I’m trying to pull up the infinite process and finite results conversations. I believe that sentence suffices: the idea is that the creation or generation of gs is an infinite process, which we describe (and here a bunch of words appear, like from a book), and the products of those processes is necessarily finite. I just realized that really is true because we construct D3-4 and D4-3, meaning the directional movement of D-structure building up from and into D4 as D4 builds up and onto D3. That onto signifies the direction of motivation. So a complicated Thing has D4 effects internally from external application within the larger Thing.

These all express through the Regularization process. I used to think that would turn out to be the silliest idea in history, which of course means it’s crucial. Dots and dashes. Okay, just saw a connection: the flailing arm works because Triangular appears in the twist which hides that axis. And that occurs in the 0-1-0 gsSpace, to that 0 which is the 1.

Among my many strange thoughts these days of certainty and uncertainty was that we represent the 1 that inherently divides into pieces, meaning the external direction, and that we are trying to communicate better with those that develop within, whose perspective is from within. I can barely believe how comprehensive and yet simple the images have become.

Let’s go back to the M-set. This is difficult. It’s an identity check: are you in or out, converging or diverging? We see the boundaries of converging in the colorings of what is not in the M-set but is close.

Oh gosh, I’m seeing the primal experience of the separation of me from the family. It’s amazing to think I was seeing this as a child and now I can identify how that worked and why it happened. It’s a projective plane level. It’s Attachment. That 0 Attaches to me in the Storyline. And that generates exactly what we’ve described in so many ways.

It gets deeper. The 0 Attaches to me because I’m 2 Things and that reveals the actual mechanics of the connection between 2T as the internalization of the exterior perspective. That also provides the essential Pathways for inspiration. Both good and bad.

I need a break. This is fun and somewhat exhausting. I’m seeing why the Boundary is a Boundary. Very cool.

[ranohikken]

#1 Game Goal, Assets, How to Play

Here I go over how my thoughts on how the game should go. Similar as possible to Decked Out, but modified to be more like a boardgame so there's no real-time events. There will probably be some overlapping explanations as I go into more detail on the assets themselves in later posts, but I'd rather overlap than omit something important.

So this is more of a tool to go alongside dnd rather than being a written module campaign like curse of strahd. More like inserting dnd into a board game. It might work, it might not. Will have to test. After the cut I go right in with how I think the game will work.

Aim of the Game:

Run the dungeon, collect artifacts, survive, upgrade your deck, do higher difficulties until you can escape.

Assets:

Boards

Dungeon Board: Where the Room Cards are placed. There are twenty spaces on the board. These are labelled from A1 to E4. Level 1 connects the Hub area in the corner to the Dungeon area.

Room Board: When players are in a room, they are placed on the Room Board, which acts as a map and allows them to move on a grid and see their surroundings such as the environment or enemies.

Cards

Room Cards: x20 Lvl 1, x20 Lvl 2, x10 Lvl 3 cards. Room cards contain a preview of a room that the players will explore. Each card is placed face down on the appropriate difficulty board, and the closest one to the waiting room is flipped up when the players enter the dungeon.

Each card also shows four pathways, one on each edge of the card, and the players decide which pathway to take and flip over the card in the chosen direction, then flipping the room card they were just in face down again. Room cards will have 1-4 pathways that are red. These can close off when Hazard is played.

Clank Cards: A deck full of Clank cards. 20 Clank cards are shuffled into the players’ deck at the start of a run.

Player Cards: These cards are for players to purchase and use. There are three main types:

Normal: These cards are played when drawn during the dungeon.

Ethereal: These cards are removed from the deck after being used and can only be used again if purchased again.

Permanent: These cards activate automatically at the start of a run.

In addition, there are tiers of cards going from Crown, Common, Uncommon, Rare and Legendary.

Artifact Cards: These are drawn by the Dungeon Master at the start of a Run. They are separated into lvls 1, 2 and 3. The number of Frost Embers awarded for retrieving the artifact is written on the card. The location of the card is written as A3, C4, etc. and relates to the notation on the board. They also show locations where Ravagers spawn.

Treasure

Crowns and Fragments: These drop throughout the dungeon during a run. Four Fragments can be converted into a Crown, which can be converted into Gold. Gold can be used to purchase items and Crown Cards.

Keys: These sometimes drop with other Treasure drops. A key is required to access the next floor when doing higher level runs.

Frost Embers: These also drop throughout the dungeon but are separate from Treasure. The main way to acquire these is to retrieve an Artifact and return to the Hub alive. These can be spent to buy more powerful cards.

Monsters

Cruel Monsters: Spawn when sufficient Clank is generated. These are forces of nature that deal a lot of damage, cannot be killed.

Ravagers: Large, hog-like monsters that charge at you when they see you. There are a certain number on each floor and spawn in locations depending on the Artifact. These will follow players to new rooms unless they lose sight of them.

Vex: Only spawns at Max Clank. Hostile ghosts that fly at players relentlessly.

Wardens: Only spawn on level 3. Blind, but can hear very well and shoot sonically charged shriek projectiles.

Room Monsters: These can appear in certain rooms when the players enter. These will not leave the Rooms they were found in. In general, they are significantly weaker than Cruel Monsters.

___________________

My main concern right now is I might potentially have too many card types. I plan to make some visuals as far as the board and cards go so that it makes more sense. When I do that I might make this post again but with pictures to make things clearer.

___________________

Setting up the game.

Shuffle the Room Cards and lay them out on the Dungeon Board face down in the appropriate levels.

The players are given a deck with three cards in it: Treasure Hunter, Ember Seeker and Moment of Clarity.

This deck is what they will build throughout the game by buying cards with Frost Embers.

The players start the game inside a Hub area that has NPCs which can sell every dnd item at the normal price. They also have their starting equipment.

Before running the dungeon, the players should prepare their items and deck.

The players are given a deck with three cards in it: Treasure Hunter, Ember Seeker and Moment of Clarity.

This deck is what they will build throughout the game by buying cards with Frost Embers. When the players finish preparations, they can run the dungeon. First, select difficulty level: 1, 2 or 3. This determines what level of the dungeon the players must reach. Second, the Dungeon Master draws a card from the Artifact Deck of appropriate level, which tells the coordinates and Frost Ember reward.

__________________

Running the Dungeon.

Players shuffle 20 Clank Cards into their deck. The players are not allowed to see the deck during a run (as Clank Cards have a different coloured back).

When the players enter the dungeon, the DM only tells the players if the Artifact is North, South, East, West or in between two. Each time the players enter a new room, the DM again tells them.

When entering the dungeon, players begin in the bottom-left space of the board and flip the card over. Each Room Card represents either a social, combat or environmental scenario that the party must resolve. After doing so, they can choose which direction to go. After deciding, they flip over the next Room Card and flip the previous one face down. When players acquire the artifact, they must return to the Hub with it. Players can return to the Hub without an Artifact, but any other items acquired such as Treasures or Frost Embers will vanish. During a run, players must be wary of Clank and Hazard.

Depending on what Artifact was drawn, Ravagers will spawn in certain rooms. If a Ravager sees a player, it will pursue them until it either kills them or loses sight of them, even chasing across rooms.

____________________

Clank

Clank is an effect that builds up over time. It has no effect until it is maximised.

Some ways Clank can be generated include (but are not limited to):

Drawing a Clank card from your deck.

Each time a new room is entered, 1 Clank Card is drawn from the Clank Deck.

After finding the Artifact, 3 Clank cards are drawn.

Certain cards will cause Clank cards to be drawn when played.

When an hour passes in-game, 2 Clank cards are drawn.

Clank cards are placed on the side of the board. When w0 Clank cards are in play, it is Max Clank, and no more cards are drawn any deck until the run is over. When Max Clank is reached, one Vex spawns for each player, and they will pursue and attack the players through the dungeon.

Clank can be prevented with Clank-block cards. A card with Clank-block displays a number of how many Clank cards it can block. The next Clank cards drawn (up to the number of Clank-block shown) are placed on top of the Clank-block card and do not count towards Max Clank.

Clank resets at the end of a run.

Hazard

Every time a room is entered, or an hour passes in-game, the players gain 1 Hazard point. When a Hazard point is gained, the DM flips a coin for each Hazard point. If the coin is Heads, nothing happens. If it is Tails, the red Hazard door(s) marked on the Room Board closes off and can no longer be traversed through. Hazard Points reset at the end of a run.

Artifacts

Artifacts are obtained in the room that they are designated to. The room will have either a social encounter, combat or environmental puzzle to solve. When solved, the usual reward is replaced with the Artifact. Players must return to the Hub with the Artifact to get any reward.

Treasure Drops

Each time the players enter a new room, a coin is flipped number of times depending on the dungeon level. If it is heads, the room contains Treasure. The DM rolls a d6. On a 1-5, they find that many Crown Fragments. On a 6, they find a key. Cards can increase the amount of Treasure found as well as how many coins are flipped.

Crown Fragments have no value on their own and vanish upon returning to the Hub. However, four Crown Fragments can be combined into one Crown, which can be taken out of the dungeon. Crowns can be spent at the Crown shop or converted into Gold Pieces (GP). 1 Crown is equivalent to 100 GP.

Keys cannot be used at shops but are required to access higher level floors. Keys must be brought to the correct Room Card that contains a Staircase.

Frost Embers

These can only be acquired by retrieving Artifacts or with cards that generate them. When the players return to the Hub, they can spend them on cards or other exclusive items. They cannot, however, be stored. When a new run is started, any unspent Frost Embers vanish.

Cards

These can be purchased from the Frost Ember shop in the hub. The more cards added to the deck, the less likely you will draw a Clank Card and the more likely you are to draw a beneficial effect instead. Decks can hold a maximum of 40 cards and a maximum of 5 of the same card. Should the players acquire more than 40 cards, they must select which cards to leave out when they enter the dungeon.

___________________

This is where I start mixing it in a little bit with DnD. In a typical campaign setting, you get gold from doing quests and stuff. In this one, you get it from running the dungeon and returning with the Artifact. I wanted it to still feel like DnD and so not be as defenceless as actual Decked Out. Important to note, Ravagers and Vexes can't be defeated, so their weapons and stuff will be mainly for Encounters in the Room Cards.

_______________________

Finishing a Run.

After the players successfully return to the Hub with their Artifact, Frost Embers and Crowns, they convert the Artifact into Frost Embers and can spend them to buy cards and other exclusive items at the Ember Shop. Crowns can be spent at the Crown shop or converted to GP to be spent on dnd items.

Frost Embers cannot be stored and vanish when starting a new run. GP and Crowns can be stored and saved up.

How to Win

Successfully returning from a run is all well and good, but it’s not quite enough to win the whole game. For that, the players must save enough Frost Embers to purchase a Black Key. The Black Key must be taken into the dungeon on the highest difficulty level and brought to the correct Room Card containing the Door of Victory. Entering the Door of Victory brings you to the final level, and only by completing the final level can you truly escape Decked Out…

_______________________

Again the part about GP is for the dnd part. If I make a standalone version of this I may remove it entirely.

I'm not really sure how to order these segments. I think I need to actually talk and explain to someone out loud like I'm trying to teach them how to play so that I can work out what order to do it in. Again, I think visuals will help so I'll work on those soon.

That's all for now, next post I'll try to do this one again but with pictures accompanying it.

[mathildeaquisexta]

A very quick post about Rousseau and music :

When he started gaining fame (just after his Discourse on the Arts and Sciences), Rousseau had been through multiple short-term secretarial and preceptor jobs. He quit to make a living by copying music and composing his own works, as he wanted to be independant and make his own money (towards the end of his life he accumulated something like 9 000 pages of compositions). He even created a musical notation system using numbers (which did not have the expected success). He wanted to keep his creative freedom and not depend on a rich benefactor, so he refused a pension of Louis XV. When he was working on the Encyclopédie, he was responsible for writing LOTS of definitions relating to music.

He also made a Dictionary of music in 1767.

So then in 1752, he presented an "Intermède", a short opera, in Fontainebleau, in front of the Royal Family : Le Devin du Village, it's available on spotify if you want to listen : click here. Le Devin du Village was a huge success, as he recalls :

"The day after, Jelyotte wrote me a letter where he detailed the sucess of my opera and the enthusiasm in which the King was : all day, he says, His Majesty never ceases to sing, with the most out of tune voice of the Kingdom"

There also were negative consequences :

The opera started a small war, the "Querelle des bouffons". Basically, Rousseau loved Italian music very much, his work was greatly inspired by it and he thought it was better than French music, he explained his vision in his Lettre sur la musique française which aggravated the controversy.

And now I must make a small digression to talk about Rameau. As Rousseau explains in chapter V of the Confessions, he learned music in self-taught from childhood, and by studying the writings of Rameau whom he greatly admired. And as Rousseau has some sort of curse where all his favorite stars become his enemies, after Voltaire he has a quarrel with Rameau who did not like his articles about music in the Encyclopédie. However, their drama will remain quite light and courteous compared to the insane stuff happening with Voltaire.

It's just that Rameau represents the excellence of traditional French music and the Querelle des Bouffons consists of an aesthetic opposition between those who want French music to keep its form and monopole and those who want French opera not to remain frozen, to change and allow influences from other countries to be introduced.

A large number of musical compositions written by Rousseau have been compiled at the Music department of the Bibliothèque nationale de France. Another part is among the manuscripts of the Library of Geneva. Le original script of the Devin du village is fully available on Gallica: here

Today I learned Rousseau composed music and even heard one of his work on the clavecin !!!!

In a music + theater adaptation of Diderot's Le neveu de Rameau with Nicolas Vaude (who played Robespierre in Les Visiteurs: la révolution) as said neveu

It was delightful, Vaude as such charming charisma and energy Les Visiteurs wasted his talent !!

[kenlvry]

hiii hello if requests are open again can i request stan, kyle, and kenny making up with reader after a fight? ☺️ i love your works sm!

making up after a fight

an, HELLO YES REQUETS ARE VERY OPEN thankyou sm 🤭🤞 im reading this while listening to boombayah yall . gn reader ( use od girlfriend in kyles oh and 16/17) also their kinda a bitch but its all good in the end

kenny

you two fought again, i mean it wasn't the first time, you two don't usually fight and when you do its intense. you just found out mans still hasn't deleted some of his hoes contacts and still talks to them like???? you brought it up and he immediately apologized but you wanted to explanation, you bring up how this has happen before and he still hasn't deleted em "look baby i was lazy, i dont even talk to them" he said walking closer to you. you brought this up when he's with the others, and it got heated. it ended with you flipping him off and going back home, " we're not helping you again this time btw". you blocked him everywhere and refuses to meet his eye at school. you thought abt it and maybe you overreacted, you decided to apologize and search for him everywhere, then you saw him talking with alot of girls and you couldn't be more angrier, you confront him then and there "wtf ken?? this is literally what we talked abt? if you want to cheat atleast make sure i dont find out" you ran away, you were so devastated how could he? after everything :(( . immediately running to your room crying and cursing kenny out, your mother then knocks and opens your bedroom door "kenny is here honey, should i let him in?" "no let him die out in the cold ma" your mom shrugged and left, few seconds later the door reopened at it was kenny "what do you want?" you rolled your eyes and he walked over to you on your bed "please hear me out" "im not even kicking you out js talk" you said sitting properly on the edge of the bed "look babe about the contacts, i keep their numbers on my phone because i ask them abt girl tips.." he said while looking down in shame, you scoffed "are u joking? thats so obviously a lie" "check my phone then, you can scroll until the top of the chat" he said giving you his phone, and it's true, its mostly "what do i do if she has her period" or "what do girls like as a gift" and "if she says shes ok but put notation at the end what does that mean" you laughed at how cute that was but then you remember earlier, you immediately glare back at him and he understood "i asked them how to comfort you, im not good at this shit bae" you laughed again and he inches closer to you "i would never cheat on you, i love you too much and you know that" kissing you and you kissed back smiling in the kiss.

kyle

again, you two aren't one to fight bc there was nothing to fight abt, but recently all he talks about is cartman and he won't shut up about him, cartman this cartman that youre sick of it, so you talk it out with them. "what do you mean i talk about cartman all the time? i wouldn't give that bitch any of my time" he said looking at you from his computer, you sighed "our past three convos is about cartman and how you cant stand him, earlier at school when we walked home tgt you talked about him, yesterday all you could say was how cartman was this and cartman was that, am i your girlfriend or is he??" you scoffed, "look can we talk abt this another time? I'm about to 1v1 cartman and loser has to do what winner wants" he said turning back to his computer "this is literally what im talking about! you are so caught up abt him you dont even pay attention to me, have you even see my text to you?" he sighed "i did, about the ice cream right" you couldn't believe him rn "my fucking pet hamster died kyle????" you can't stand this shit anymore you left slamming the door at him. sheila asked you to drink with her but you just ignored her, what the hell is wrong with kyle? he could've atleast replied about your pet hamster, he knew how much it meant to you. at school you wouldn't even stand near him, you talked with the girls and sat near tolkien and you walked home with tweek. you got a call and it was cartman, the cause of your fight "what is it" "yo dawg, kyle asked me to tell you to meet up with him at the pond" you were confused "why" "idk, but bring protection, im sure he didn't bring any" he said laughing and you rolled your eyes ending the call. you put your jacket on and went out to the park, from afar you see him on the bench swinging his feet. "kyle?" he stood up "oh uh y/n, here" he gave you flowers and motioned for you to sit down, "im not good at this um" he played with his thumbs and was looking nervous ,you laughed a little "take your time". he sighed "y/n im sorry, I should've paid more attention to you and not cast you away like some stranger, im really sorry about your pet hamster too, i know how much he means to you." puting a hand on your thigh while looking at you he smiled, you smiled back "well it's going to take alot more than just a simple sorry" you said sarcastically and looked away , he laughed "well then, should we watch a movie?" he stood up and so did you. that day you two watched a movie and had the best dated ever.

stan

recently life has been real shitty for stan, with his dad being a dead beat who won't shut up about his farm, cartman being a bitch in general and kyle not understanding what he's going through, its rough for him. he takes it out on you, he'd randomly lash out on you then say sorry which isnt even a good apology, he would ignore you and your texts and reply in two days time. you have had enough and went to his house to talk about it with him. "i dont get mad at you and i dont ignore you, your making things up y/n" you sigh softly at his remark "stan if i were to ask people what they think about us they would say we're just friends and not in a relationship, thats how much you fucked up" he stood up from his chair at your remark "how much i fucked up?? maybe you shouldn't have texted me so goddamn much , maybe you shouldn't bother me when i'm clearly in a bad mood, how is it my fault?" "this is exactly what I'm talking about, I didn't do anything and you act as if i committed third degree murder" he scoffed "fine then what do you want? to break up? if thats what make you so happy then we are over" he said and going back to his game "fuck you stan, you couldn't even try to communicate with me, i know ur going through some shit rn but that doesn't give you the right to take it out on me im not ur toy." you left his house and went home, can you believe the audacity this boy had? you blocked him everywhere and deleted his name in your bio, when people found out they comforted you, some even flirting with you, you dont want to be associated with him anymore. he however realises how much he fucked up and was regretting every decision he did that day, he tried to talk to you many times but your friends would always block his way to talk to you, you could care less. you went home alone one day and can feel a presence behind you, you walk faster each second and to one point running with the man running after you "y/n!" he yelled and you immediately recognise the voice, you look back to see stan panting with his hands on his knees, you sighed rolling your eyes "what now stan?" "please, just let me explain" you stayed silent. "im.. im sorry, i should've talked to you about the things i was going through, i was just going through a hard time and yes its not an excuse i know, i didn't talk to you about it because i was scared you'd tease me so i isolated myself thinking it was for the better but instead it created something worse" his eyes were glassy and he sniffled. "I can't forgive you just yet yk" crossing your arms, "i know, so please be my mine again i will make it up to you" his desperate face was the cutest and you agreed, he took you out on many dates and was replying often, he opened up to you and you two always helped each other when needed. he couldn't imagine loosing you again and he's going to make sure he doesn't anymore.

[michaelrotonal]

cursed number notation 12.

1 =

2 = 1

3 = 10

4 = 2

5 = 100

6 = 11

7 = 1000

8 = 3

9 = 20

10 = 101

11 = 10000

12 = 12

thought i'd give y'all an easy one this time.

[officialscaramouche]

Three is company— a gift for @ambers-glider ‘s fic here! I told y’all I’d get to writing today!!!!

EDIT: Tomo is the friend (Tomo is short for tomodachi which is friend in japanese)

pairing: Kazuha x Gorou x reader

tw: a couple curse words

wc: 2,178

You squatted around the fire with your colleagues, eating your food straight from the can. “[Y/N]!” You hear your squad leader call out from his tent. You turn to look at what he wanted and note him standing with a messenger from the base of operations you just left. He waved what looked like a white flag. It piqued your interest, you had to admit, stretching out your legs with your can in hand.

“Yes, sir!” You salute, slapping your ankles together in form.

Your squad leader extended his hand, exchanging an open letter with you. “A letter. From the resistance,” he says simply. “From the second in command himself.”

It didn’t take the second sentence for you to know who it was. Of course, Kokomi was the leader of your resistance— all of you worked for her. But her second in command was none other than the tricky Gorou, known for his sly and mischievous ploys. “Thank you, sir,” you salute once more before dipping to tear into the letter.

It sucked that none of your mail could go through unopened, but it made sense considering that any one of you could be shogunate spies. It was a small price to pay for your cause, even if the letter was a bit personal.

[Y/N], it read. I hope this letter finds you well. After yours and Kazuha’s leave, I dove into my work to try and distract myself from the aching in my heart. Seeing many of my comrades fall in the recent ambush made me long for you more. I cannot ignore it much longer, so I have written to both you and dearest Kazuha in hopes that we may once again be reunited. We should all be returning to base in two weeks for the monthly review. Please find me there. I look forward to seeing you. Gorou.

“Oh?” A voice came behind you. “Everyone wondered what was going on between you and the shiba boy. I guess this proves true?”

You pulled the letter to your chest, scowling at the man who sat beside you. “Do you need something, sir? Why is my business important to you?”

He smiled, throwing an arm around you. “Damn, I was just curious!” You shook his arm off of you and turned your back to him. “I’m sorry that we have to go through your letters. But I’m sure you understand.”

You frowned as your eyes scanned the letter again. “I do,” you sigh. Bringing the letter to your nose and breathing in the scent. It smelled like otogi wood. It smelled like him. “But it does suck that everyone in command knows about my affairs.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

You peer over your shoulder and glare. “I do mind you asking.” You hissed.

The two weeks went by painfully slow. Your team was sent to do reconnaissance once more after the ambush that Gorou mentioned in his letter. While it wasn’t your team that was tasked with scouting that area prior to his arrival, it was your command team that got in trouble for it. Everyone was expected to do seamless work and the weight was on your team’s shoulders.

You double checked your field of observation; replacing your traps, checking the knots, and notating all of your activities. Signing off and turning in your report, you packed all of your equipment and belongings and darted out of the camp.

It was good to finally be back on base. All you wanted to do was get into your room and hop into the shower. You weren’t about to meet your exes sweaty and covered in dirt. You step inside and stop at the front desk. “Welcome back [Y/N],” the receptionist greets. “What number did you reserve?”

“Twenty three,” you slide over the key, lugging your duffel bag onto the table. You unzip the bag and fish for your personal belongings as the receptionist grabs your locker key. “I’m returning the reconnaissance pack and some gear.”

The receptionist scratches out your name on the clipboard and pulls the bag across the desk. “I heard you’re meeting with Master Gorou and Lord Kazuha.”

You slap your forehead with a groan. “Ugh, does everyone know?”

“Not everyone. I heard from Master Gorou himself. He told me to tell you he’d be in his office.”

“He’s here already?”

“Since seven this morning. He seemed rather eager to meet you.” The receptionist hands you the forms you signed to borrow the equipment. “Sign and date, please.”

You take the pen off the desk and begin to scribble on the document when the door slides open with a ding. “Oh, [Y/N],” a calm and melodious voice says. “What great timing!”

You shudder at the voice, turning slowly to confirm your suspicions. “O-Oh, hi Lord Kazuha…I just got back.”

The samurai walks up and places a hand on the small of your back. “Is Gorou here yet?”

“Yes,” the receptionist answers, taking the clipboard back from you. “He should be waiting in his office.”

“Great,” Kazuha smiles, grabbing your belongings off the desk and ushering you away with him. “Let’s go, shall we?”

You twiddle your fingers nervously as you walk. “I haven’t showered yet, my lord.”

“Oh that’s alright. I haven’t either.”

That wasn’t the point, you thought, reaching the elevator. “Well, I was hoping I could stop at my room and shower.”

Kazuha pushed one of the buttons on the elevator panel. “We’re already here, though.” You scratch your head and frown. “It’s okay,” he continues. “Master Gorou won’t mind.”

“Why do you smell like incontinence?”

You bury your face in your palms as you listen to Gorou and Kazuha speak. “Because I’ve been hiding in the trenches,” Kazuha laughs, opening his arms for a hug.

“You know I have a strong sense of smell,” Gorou whined as he embraced the samurai. “And [Y/N],” you look from between your fingers and notice the warm smile and faint blush on Gorou’s face. “It’s so good to see you too.”

The shiba boy walks up to you and pulls you into a tight embrace, his face nuzzled into your neck. “You’re stinky too.”

“Hey!” You shout, your hands reaching to wrap around him. “Kazuha didn’t want to stop at my room.”

Gorou pulls back and gazes into your eyes, his hand coming to cup your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ve been waiting around anxiously for both of you. Come,” he gestured, extending his arm out. “Please sit with me. I’ve got cookies and tea.”

Kazuha tucked his hands into his sleeves and grinned. He knelt down on the tatami pillow, sitting down on his knees and reaching for a cookie. You followed suit next to him, sitting back on your heels and taking the teacup from Gorou after he poured some tea. It was nice and light until Kazuha took a sip from his cup. “Why did you ask us to come here?” He said with a smile.

You stiffened at the question, your hair standing on end at the suddenly uncomfortable mood. You thought it was obvious why he arranged this meeting, but you guess that Kazuha wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

Gorou rubbed the back of his neck. “I mostly wanted to apologize,” he explained. “Whether or not you accept my apology is not my concern. But I do hope that we can agree to reconcile.”

“It’s very uncomfortable walking around after my superiors have gone through my mail,” Kazuha continued, closing his eyes as he sipped on his tea. “You could’ve at least been a bit more subtle with the delivery.”

“That was part of the problem, though.” The two of you watched and listened closely as Gorou spoke. When the three of you parted ways, it wasn’t on the best of terms. Being in each other’s presence was awkward enough as a result, but hearing him explain his side wasn't something that either you or Kazuha cared to understand. “Keeping both you and [Y/N] a secret was a problem to me. I understood that it would become a hindrance if people knew, but I couldn’t even hold your hand in public.”

Kazuha was silent as he spoke. Gorou and Kazuha had been a thing before you were introduced. But from the beginning you felt that things were tense between them. Being an outsider, the problem was more obvious than it was to them but it was something you felt they needed to work out. That’s why you left.

“And while it was okay for a bit,” Gorou continued, looking away as his words began to choke in his throat. “It was painful to love someone who didn’t even want to be called my ‘boyfriend.’ I don’t think you realize how embarrassing it is to say ‘oh, Kazuha’s my not-boyfriend because he doesn’t want to be tied down by titles.’ I understand that you don’t want a serious relationship but it felt like you didn’t care.”

“I was grieving,” Kazuha kind of snapped, his fingers curled into a fist. “Do you not understand that? My real boyfriend killed himself!”

“Am I not real to you?! Am I just your rebound to fuck and forget?! We are all grieving, Kazuha! We all loved Tomo! What about [Y/N], huh?! Is [Y/N] not real to you either?!”

Kazuha slammed his fist on the table. “Neither of you give a shit! Neither of you care about how I feel!”

Gorou stood on his feet, looking down at the man across from him. “Who was the person that begged you to stay, huh?! Throwing yourself into battle at every chance you got and then turning your back on me!! How dare you say I don’t give a shit!”

The three of you sat in uncomfortable silence after both men refused to say anything else. All you did was sit there and listen, not really feeling as if your opinion mattered. You weren’t in the relationship for very long anyway, why would you have anything to say?

Kazuha looked away from the both of you, while Gorou’s eyes focused on him. You sat with your hands in your lap, waiting for someone to say something. “What do you think, [Y/N]?” Kazuha said finally, not looking at you.

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Gorou said, sitting back down and reaching for your hands. “You were a part of the relationship too.”

“I’m not sure though…it didn’t feel like I was.” Kazuha looked over his shoulder, his cheeks wet from tears he had been hiding. “I wasn’t even a part of the conversation. You left—” you said, pointing to Kazuha. “—and you ignored me.” Then pointing to Gorou.

You crossed your arms with a huff. “Kazuha didn’t even try to talk it out, and Gorou wasn’t patient enough. Neither of you had any care about how I felt. I don’t even think you guys care now! All you want is for me to agree with you and argue with the other! But you’re both wrong! We all loved Tomo, Kazuha. It’s not fair that you shut all of us out. And it’s also not fair to Kazuha to try and force him to get over it so quickly! Everyone grieves at different paces. Just because you’re more used to your friends dying doesn’t mean he has to!”

They were both silent again as your words soaked in. You were right, of course. Gorou thought about the things he said and how he could’ve done it differently. How he had pushed Kazuha away instead of helping. And Kazuha thought about how selfish he was being. He wasn’t Tomo’s only friend and he wasn’t the only one who cared about him.

Then the silence was broken. “I’m sorry.”

Both of the men turned to look at you with confused expressions. “Why are you sorry?” Kazuha asked, grabbing your hands and pulling you close to him. “It’s not your fault.”

Gorou came around and joined in the hug, wrapping his arms around both of you. “Yeah, [Y/N] it’s not your fault. We’re the ones who fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“No,” Gorou shook his finger. “I said I was going to apologize first.”

“Well too bad!” Kazuha shoved a finger into Gorou’s chest. “I said it first!”

Gorou laughed, pinching Kazuha’s cheek. “No, [Y/N] said it first!”

You pushed them away from you and chuckled. “Now that you’re both feeling better, I was going to say ‘I’m sorry is what you should say to each other.’”

Kazuha tucked your hair behind your ear with a soft expression, before Gorou swooped in and peppered your cheeks with kisses. “Promise you’ll work on it?” You asked.

Gorou and Kazuha looked at each other lovingly, leaning in to kiss for the first time in a long time. “We promise.” They said at the same time.

[shematria]

In the late bronze age¹ and throughout the biblical period, the practice of Gematria was a formal system of mathematics. Gematria had strict rules and conventions that regulated how calculations were composed and read, just as our formal system of math does today.

You may ask how the ancient Hebrew speaking peoples accomplished this with only the alphabet? That's a great question because at that time there was no notation for arithmetic like +, -, ×, ÷ and this happened before the Arabic numbering system (0, 1, 2, 3, 4 etc) was invented².   In those ancient times all the letters of the alphabet represented numbers, and parts of speech were used to separate calculating values from calculating indicators. Nouns were used for their values, and some verbs and prepositions were reserved to indicate types of arithmetic. For example, to bless ברוך indicated a multiplication by 2, while to curse ארור meant to divide by 2. 

“See for YHVH has given you the Sabbath upon that he gives you in the day the sixth bread for two days.” Exodus 16:29   Some nouns were restricted from the count, and these were called middot (measures). These were words like: day, week, year, name, word, shekel, and all types of weights and measures. Middot included some unusual words that we wouldn't think of as measures today, such as: sons, and daughters.

Another feature of the formal system was that some nouns had set values by convention, rather than representing the sum of their letters. These were usually words that were related to the pictorial origins and themes of the alphabet. For example, the letter Beth came from the pictogram of a house, and so the word בית meaning house has the set value of 2 like the Beth. Nun came from the pictogram of a snake, and so the word נחש (nachash) meaning snake has the set value of 50 like the letter. עיניים meaning eyes has the set value of 70 like the letter Ayin which came from the pictogram of an eye.

All these features meant that gematria in the Bible was a formal system of math that readers of the time knew how to decipher so that the exact calculations of biblical writers were understood by biblical readers.

In all ancient societies the practice of numeracy is acquired before literacy, often by a significant margin³, and before Hebrew letters were corresponded to phonetic sounds that could be recorded, they were numbers. The numbers of the alphabet were assigned to specific yet broad themes which corresponded to how the ancients perceived the ancient world. These themes were matters that were thought to be in the experience of all human beings like day, night, the sky, birth, death, etc. These were all arranged into a diagram, alternatively called the Seven Palaces or the Merkabah (Chariot), and this was used for correspondences. The Merkabah was made a restricted study by the Sages, so little mention of it was made in the Talmud. This restriction also covered the main ciphers used in the Bible, with the exception of the Standard Cipher (Mispar Hechrechi).

GEMARA: The Gemara poses a question: You said in the first clause of the mishna: Nor may one expound the Design of the Divine Chariot by oneself, which indicates that the topic may not be learned at all, and yet you subsequently said: Unless he is wise and understands most things on his own, which indicates that an individual is permitted to study the Design of the Divine Chariot. The Gemara explains: This is what the mishna is saying: One may not expound the topic of forbidden sexual relations before three students, nor the act of Creation before two, nor may one teach the Divine Chariot to one, unless that student was wise and understands on his own. - Chagigah 11b:8–9, The William Davidson Talmud.

The ancients would have just called their system of math מנה (manah) which means to count. The word Gematria was borrowed from the Greek word meaning geometry, as in practical terms this meant land measurement and it was probably intended to refer to mathematics.

"The ancient rabbis were well aware of this use of geometry. It is to it that, in Pirkei Avot or “The Ethics of the Fathers,” Rabbi Eliezer Hisma was referring when he said, “Tekufot [calendrical reckoning] and gimatriya’ot [geometrical algebra] are side dishes to wisdom.” Gematria thus came to mean the algebraic solution of mathematical problems, and eventually, simple arithmetic and the calculation of the numerical values of Hebrew words. This is the sense in which it entered Jewish tradition, in which both it and the technique it designates are still widely encountered today." - Philologos (The Forward, 2013). 

The Gematria ciphers for the Hebrew Bible were transposed to the Greek alphabet by Jewish converts to Christianity and they were used in the New Testament. Soon afterwards, the New Testament cipher was lost by Christian Churches, to the detriment of general biblical exegesis.

In 1900 the Biblical Ciphers were re-discovered by Aleister Crowley, who transliterated them to our modern alphabet and used them in Liber Al vel Legis and other of his Class A texts. Aleister used his knowledge of the Merkabah and the biblical ciphers as the architecture behind the Qabalah of Thelema.

In 2015 the biblical ciphers were rediscovered by the Noachide and Thelemite cryptographer Bethsheba Ashe, the creator of this calculator, and she spent the years following deciphering the ancient hebrew formal system using scientific method. She has presented the results of several years of biblical decipherment in her guide to the study of gematria throughout the ages: 'Behold! The Art and Practice of Gematria', which will be published by Aeon Books on the 31st October 2023. 

[1.] The oldest example of gematria is in the Mt. Ebal Curse tablet. ASHE, B. (2023). Behold: The art and practice of gematria. Aeon Books. pg 21-22.  [2.] The History of Mathematical Symbols: https://encyclopediaofmath.org/wiki/Mathematical_symbols [3.] Overmann, K. A. (2023). The materiality of numbers: Emergence and elaboration from prehistory to present. Cambridge University Press.

[dawn-of-worlds]

Four become three and many become one

(Fittingly, Haebarik has 5+3+2d6->6 = 14 power at the start of turn 14)

(summary at the bottom)

An eternity ago, four Ataila pledged to keep the peace between the realms of Lekesh. Four Ataila, immortal in body, who rejected all land and titles, and swore to only keep the peace between realms.

Now, only three remain. Vainaa, Atai-scholar-diplomat of the Seekers, has long disappeared, taken to an unknown fate by a crew-turned-traitor. None of Palk can guess their motives: few would respect them if they knew.

The Ataila, who pledged to only procreate to replace one of their number, have not done even that.

Uulaa has grown morose and melancholic over the years, and as the Free City rules itself, he spends his days gazing out over the rooftops and the starry sky beyond. He swears that the stars used to be brighter to any who care to listen: few do.

Mianen, the Great Renouncer, has little sympathy left for the Azure Reach. Wagons and ships loaded with treasure pass by their lands, destined for the Free City, for Seeker lands, for those Penitent more equal than their tenants. What good are such riches? What good is it to travel over the waves, to risk life and limb, all to enrich some sedate trader? No, Mianen has no desire to reward the princes of Palk with a new tutor, and prays that Vainaa will elude them forever.

And Koskela... Koskela has seated on the ruling council for centuries on end, serving amidst countless transient human priests. The Atai is tired of their endless petty politics, yet unable to abstain from them. Their own opinions have long since ceased to matter: all of import are votes, shifting alliances, shady favors, and backroom deals. To grant the Seekers, rivals for control of Rasira, a new immortal diplomat would be political suicide, and so it is not done.

And so the Azure Reach remains without Atai-diplomat. Decades pass, generations, centuries, the peace growing ever more shaky, dozens of small disputes going undefused. A raid on some border farms ends up spiraling out of control, and before long the Builders' labor draft is turned to martial purpose.

Already, troops are amassed by both realms' rulers. Already, what ships the Builders command are being organized in a navy, their many orders pressed into service. In Palk, trading vessels are refitted for battle, treasuries emptied to call mercenaries from afar. The Penitent declare neutrality, some joining either side as medics; the Free City, after a vote, elects to stay neutral too.

(Command City 2 pt for both Palk and the Glorious City to raise an army.)

Some do not await war. A number of the Azure Reach's citizens fear their lords cannot protect them, and thus band together in uncertain exodus. They flee through the southern strait before passage becomes forbidden, intending to sail south and find refuge in distant lands.

Alas! The notorious storms of that region get hold of their ill-prepared ships and blow them far southeast, into the foggy Sea of Spires. The ships that survive at last run aground on an island, bigger and flatter than most in that sea, big enough to survive on.

Somehow, they do just that.

The fog saps their memories and sense of self, but not their resolve. They turn their great ships into improvised homes, quarry stone, gather scallop and seaweed. As they feel their memories slipping away, they improvise notation systems, on wood and sail and stone, and place great instructional memorials along their streets and walls. Crafts can still be practiced, homes repaired, fish caught. Their little civilization endures.

The mermaids, mercifully, leave their town alone. Perhaps they are appeased by the sight of large boats, beached and upturned, yet still crawling with crew. Perhaps they find it unusual enough to satisfy their urges. Perhaps, instead, what they find strange is everything else about the town.

Its name? It has none, but sailors of the Reach have taken to calling it the Cursed City of Ceret. And many sailors have had the chance to learn of it: some say that all ships lost in the mist are fated to sail by this place.

It looks like a normal fishing-town at first, save for the large living-ships that remain its largest buildings. But those who set foot ashore will quickly note how each inhabitant wears a smooth wooden mask, each identical to every other; a practice they adopted to spare themselves the pain of seeing the face of a spouse or brother or friend, and not remembering the name to put to it.

And indeed, those of Ceret no longer try. They lack all identity, all sense of personal property, all knowledge of outside the mists. They labor, they love, they sing and dance and paint, but nothing endures, no given name is remembered, no bonds are forged. They take off their masks only to eat, and never near others, and so each believes his own face to lie beneath each mask.

Those outsiders who arrive are treated with a mixture of interest and fear. Sometimes they are chased out, sometimes hidden from, sometimes traded with: Ceret's attitude to outsiders endures no longer than the memory of its denizens.

The sole constant that all visitors note are the desperate exhortations of all locals that these newcomers please wear masks, please take one, this was made just now, wear it, have it, keep it, cover that, i know not whether i saw it before but I know I knew it, once, and it hurts, put this on, please.

All stories of Ceret end with one warning: stay not too long, or you will accept the offer.

(Command Race 3 pt. to found the city of Ceret in the Sea of Spires. As usual, Omaera can command this place as if it is her own.)

(SUMMARY: With Vainaa gone and diplomatic relations breaking down, Lekesh prepares for war. Both the Azure Reach and the Glorious City raise an army. The Free City and the Penitent remain neutral. A refuge fleet from the Azure Reach drifts into the Sea of Spires, where they miraculously manage to survive and found an amnesiac mask-wearing society without property, family, or personal identity of any kind, though probably somewhat more short- and mid-term memory than the mermaids, and a more complex civilization as a result)

(Haebarik has 14 - 3 - 2 - 2 = 7 power left)

[dsknsk]

Sinners & Arknights character music - Faust x Reconnection

A haughty soul, an unapproachable air and an unparalleled intellect. A riddle she won't allow you to solve unless she lets her guard down.

Under the cut are notes about the drawing, because there is a lot.

The original artwork had very little for me to salvage, so I made something from scratch. The notes on the walls are real chemical notations and excerpts from Faust (in German).

Tyr-Gly-Gly-Phe-Met (YGGFM), C27H35N5O7S = Met-Enkephalin

75909-25-0 = CAS number of Met-Enkephalin

701.32 = molecular weight of Met-Enkephalin

Tyr-Gly-Gly-Phe-Leu (YGGFL), C28H37N5O7 = Leu-Enkephalin

58822-25-6 = CAS number of Leu-Enkephalin

535.27 = molecular weight of Leu-Enkephalin

Chemical notation on the bottom right = the structural correlation between Met-Enkephalin and Morphine (C17H29NO3)

Chemical structure and formula on top right = Dopamine

Chemical structure on the left = Leu-Enkephalin

Literal translation of Faust excerpt on the far left:

Cursed be, from now, the high opinion

Which the mind surrounds itself with!

Cursed be the blinding of the radiance,

Which pushes on our senses!

Cursed be what fools us in our dreams,

The fame, which kept carrying the name!

Cursed be, what allures us as possessions,

As woman and child, as knave and plow!

It's an excerpt from a long 'list' of curses. Here Faust is reflecting on how none of [her] previous life choices and dreams brought [her] happiness or satisfaction.

Literal translation of the Faust excerpt on the middle left:

Woe! Woe!

You have destroyed it,

The beautiful world,

With mighty fist,

It is ruined, it falls,

A halfgod you have slain,

We carry

The fragments into the void

And lament

The lost beauty.

More powerful

Son of the earth

More beautiful

Build it again,

In your own bosom, build it again!

New way of life

Start,

With clear sense,

And new songs

Will be heard from there!

In Faust I, Mephistopheles' minions taunt Faust with these lyrics, encouraging [her] to go out into the world and be that 'More beautiful son of the earth' who destroys and rebuilds the world.

Literal translation of Faust excerpt on the top middle right:

You must know!

From one make ten,

And let the two go,

And three make even,

So you're rich.

Lose the four!

From five and six,

So the witch says,

Make seven and eight,

So it is done:

And nine is one,

And ten is none,

That's the witch's one-times-one!

This is a riddle known as 'Die Hexeneinmaleins', a 'spell' used within Faust itself. It is a 'parody' on the concept of an 'einmaleins', (lit. 'one-times-one'), which is a multiplication table taught to elementary school students. It is also a way of saying "the very basics," similar to "[something] 101" in English.

The way she is holding the broom in front of her makes it somewhat look like she's riding it, like a traditional witch.

[worldsentwined]

Drabble challenge, Cemeteries of Amalo, either 33 or 61! (love, celebros)

(Omg, how did you know that sending me a Tumblr prompt is THE way to get me to write for a new fandom? Works every time, even though the words got away from me and this is far too long to be considered a drabble. Anyway, have some Thara and Iäna shenanigans. Prompt list here).

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

"We beg your pardon?"

Oh, damn. "I ought to beg yours," I said, tearing my eyes away from the disaster on my office floor to fix them on the far more pleasant sight of Thara Celehar. "Cursing at a prelate. What must you think of my filthy mouth?"

From the blush climbing to the tips of his ears, I imagined his thoughts strayed in the same direction mine did. Filthy mouth indeed, Iäna, I could almost hear him say, 'tis thy mind that needs cleaning. I'd startled him into formality, though, and would have to work for the privilege of intimacies, spoken or otherwise.

"I thought you were Thoramis," I explained. "He left to fetch tea, but in truth I think he wished to distance himself from...all of this." I offered a sweeping gesture to encompass all of it: the scattered papers, the ink spots on my favorite shirt, my snappish mood. I had perhaps shouted a bit more than was reasonable when the incident occurred, and did not blame anyone for wishing to stay away.

Thara stepped closer. "What happened? Did inspiration strike?" I supposed the chaos in front of me could look like the throes of creative genius, if one looked at it from a certain angle. Sheets of paper covered in writing fanned out from where I knelt. I'd gathered them into loose piles, but the process of sorting them out had only made the mess more pronounced.

I sighed. "Something more sinister, I'm afraid. The window was not as firmly latched as I could have wished, and now a breeze has made a shambles of my new opera."

“Oh dear.” He surveyed the scene anew. “I don’t suppose you numbered the pages?”

“Nothing so convenient.” I hadn’t even made a clean copy yet.

“And your pen lacked the decency to leave a distinctive blot behind.” He picked his way through the farthest-flung pages, occasionally pausing to pick one up, and lowered himself to the floor across from me. “We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“We?” Now I was the one surprised, and warmed by a kinder emotion than my previous anger. “Thank thee, Thara, truly, but,” I hesitated, seeing his color rise again. I’d dropped into the intimate form of speech without meaning to; so much for my delicate dance around his feelings. “But canst not read music, canst thou? And know’st not what order the story goes in.” 

Undeterred, Thara spread his handful of pages in a clear space. “Then you’ll have to tell me about it as we go, and check the musical notation yourself. Now,” he held a page out to me, “who is this ‘Tamoro’ and why is her heart ‘broken beyond mending’?”

And so I found myself spending the evening on the floor of my office, regaling Thara with the tale of a doomed love affair between a noblewoman and her father’s bodyguard while the two of us attempted to piece my opera back together. He gave the task the same attention and care he showed in his witnessing: insightful questions, delicate hands smoothing a creased corner. I found my own attention wandering more than once, watching him. Even so, what had seemed an insurmountable task gradually shaped itself into a manageable one. 

“Thou’rt a wonder,” I told him, as he set the last page of Act Two in place. 

“Me?” Thara shook his head. “I’m not the one who wrote an opera!”

“No, but shouldst give thyself credit for saving one. Or at least its composer’s composure.” Oh, that was a good line. I made a note to save it for a future opera, then returned to the matter at hand. “Truly, Thara. Allow me to thank thee for all thy help. Art hungry?” The hour had grown late, but the Torivontaram would still be open. Or any number of places; it mattered not where we went, only that I not let this time with my prickly prelate pass sooner than it must. 

Presumest much, Iäna. Canst lay no claim to him, however much thou desirest. This time it  was my own good sense talking.

Unaware of my selfish wishes, Thara considered. “I…could eat,” he ventured, “but you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I said, impulsively reaching across the space between us to lay a hand on top of his. He froze, and I did too; my large hand over his smaller one, resting on the stack of paper that represented our evening’s work. There was something poetic in that, but I lacked the presence of mind to put words to it. “Please,” I whispered, “Thou didst not have to help me either, but didst anyway. At least let me feed thee.” Even if that is all thou wilt allow me to do for thee, when thou deservest everything. I left those words unspoken, but he must have read some of them anyway. As I waited for his answer, his ears turned pink, gaze still locked on our hands.

“All right,” he said at last, voice so low I almost missed it. “Take me to dinner. After telling me an entire opera, you must be hungry and thirsty as well.” He slid his hand from under mine and stood, then reached out to help me to my feet. “And…Iäna?”

“Yes?” He hadn’t let go of my hands. I wasn’t going to let go either, though I surely should.

The smallest of smiles played over his lips. “Needst not beg my pardon for thy filthy mouth. I’m rather fond of it.” 

[bibliocratic]

How about Jon Martin and the cursed trip to IKEA?

Thanks for the prompt! :D

I’m sure this absolutely could have been read as like ‘IKEA is not-so-secretly a Spiral domain’ but this non-Euclidean hell-hole is of mortal making I’m sure of it.

(I love and fear you IKEA, never change <3)

 --

“I simply don’t see the reason why we’d ever need them.”

“If we have guests over!”

“We’ve never had guests over.”

“One day we might!”

“And over for what?”

“I dunno! Dinner or something, make a night of it.”

“Martin, neither of us can cook.”

“Well, we could learn.”

“Alright, fine. Pushing that to one side for the moment, my question is why do our hypothetical guests require a different set of fancier cutlery? What’s wrong with the ones we’ve got at home?”

“I mean, nothing really, just… well, it’s a thing, isn’t it? Having some nice stuff to bring out if people come round.”

“Will we be moving on to the fine china aisle next?”

“Maybe! Ha, ha, don’t give me that look – Why not splash out a little? At worst, we just have more forks and some extra knives.”

“…Alright, fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Before I come to my senses. But I reserve the right to refuse guests the good cutlery if they’re undeserving.”

“What, are you planning some rigorous questionnaire they’ve got to pass first?”

“Absolutely. Come on then, the fine china awaits.”

--

Alfonse has never really been one for home improvement. He’s got a rolled-up stick of posters that he’s dragged around from his old room to student digs to slightly nicer student digs since he was a teenager, their corners creased and dotted with blue-tack stains. He’s had the same chipped plate, chipped bowl, chipped cup set since uni, and has been belligerent about swapping them out for anything less likely to shatter the next time he puts it in the dishwasher. But it’s their first flat together, and it feels real, and grown-up, and kind of scary, and he thinks that it’s important to get this part right, to set their life together off with a different start than the other places. Meaning that now, somehow, they’ve got a squeaky-wheeled trolley full of pillows and a cheese grater and storage containers that aren’t see-through plastic boxes and honest-to-god frames for his Quentin Tarantino posters. He’s finding himself entertaining the rather luxurious thought of buying a large and leafy potted plant to brighten up their cramped living room.

Tom is in his element here, and he’s put on his ridiculous reading glasses that Alfonse says make him look like Dame Edna, peering over their chunky glittery frames to inspect the ballroom’s worth of lighting they’ve found themselves amongst. He’s humming as he does so, making notations with the pint-sized pencil they collected at the door. Alfonse is entirely content to let him take the reigns on this one.

He idly people-watches for a while, making noises of interest at another floor lamp when it’s expected of him – the students clearing out the kitchenware section, lugging around the straining blue blags, the parents with children who have been swayed by the toys – before he catches sight of a man circling the desk lamps. Glancing down at his phone, gnawing on his lower lip with some discontent before he glances up and around the terrain before frowning. He swings his phone in an arc, giving the hope of it a hopeful tap, muttering a comeoncomeoncomeon under his breath.

His mobile gives a chirpy buzz, and the man almost hits himself in the ear with the force of answering.

“Where are you?” Alfonse overhears. “I can’t… Jon… Jon, you’re breaking up, yeah, the signal’s… Jon. I’m by the lamps… The lamps. Lamps. I’ve got the trolley, yes, yes – you… hello?”

Alfonse hears a very emphatic fuck’s sake before he decides to go back to Tom and leave the man suffer in private.

--

Sinead’s planted herself on one of the sofas in the well-lit display areas and has committed to not budging an inch for at least ten minutes. The fabric is a cheery yellow, and it suits the colour-coordinated pretend living room, but she’s not sure she’d choose it herself.

She’s getting a headache. Mel’s off with her nephews and nieces over in the kid’s bedroom section and she just needs five more minutes before she can look at another floral wallpaper or toy car bed.

She’s disrupted from massaging her temples by an irate-looking man with some rather intense eyebrow game throwing himself down on the half-egg-shaped armchair nearby, letting forth a truly impressively disgruntled sigh.

“You look like you’re suffering,” she offers, because she is and she wants to know someone else is too, and he nods peevishly and gives another irritated noise.

“I didn’t realise there’d be so much drama involved in buying a sofa,” he grumbles.

“Amen,” she agrees. They share a quiet moment of strung-out solidarity as they sit moulded into the seat cushions.

“… What’s that one called?” the man asks after a moment of stewing in his own mood.

She shrugs but picks up the tag and squints at it.

“Brathult? With one of those… those A’s that have the little bobble hat. Apparently, it comes in yellow, blue and green.”

“Comfortable?”

“Not bad.”

“Hm.” For a while he goes silent. Then he points out two sofas tucked into different displays and artfully layered with appropriate throw pillows; the first, a stocky black number set upon a sleek wooden frame that serve as its legs, the second, a dense cuboid of cushions currently being looked over by in fastidious detail by a tussle-haired man wearing a t-shirt covered in lots of small cartoon cacti.

“Between that one and that one,” her companion in furniture-based suffering says. “What do you think?”

Sinead studies them carefully.

“The second.”

He huffs. It was clearly not the answer he wanted.

“Why?”

“Not sure. I guess, yeah, it’s not as flashy, but the cushions look deeper. And there’s more width there, even just looking at them.”

“But the first one has all that space under it to store things.”

“Yeah, but you just know it’s going to build up with dust, and you’d be having to get the hoover under it all the time. It seems a bit finnicky.”

The man gives a considering nod.

“You’re right.”

He hefts himself up and calls over to the other display room: “Martin!”

The tussle-haired man whirls around.

Her companion holds up his hands. “You were right. The second one.”

The tussle-haired man looks smugly victorious. Sinead tries to hide her smirk at the sight.

--

Andy’s heaving the flat-pack box for a small bookcase into their trolley when they hear a conversation bleed through from the other side of the huge metal shelves in the warehouse part of the store.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.”

“It’s coming down on my side – woahwoahwoah – ”

“It’s – Christ, swing it this way a bit – ”

“I’ve not – Jon, I’ve not got – it’s – Jon, it’s slipping.”

“Put it down – DOWN – yes, that’s… Right. Let’s… let’s just have a moment. Catch our breath.”

“God, why’s it so heavy? It’s not like it’s even that big!”

Andy pops their head around to the other side of the shelf. Two men are puffing and sweaty, the colour on their faces blooming with exertion. Between the two of them is the long and bulky cardboard box they are clearly trying to manhandle into their trolley.

“Do you… um, do you need a hand?” they ask.

The shorter one waves a polite but dismissive hand before they manage to wrangle some air into their lungs.

“We’re good, thanks.” He says. The taller one raises an eyebrow.

Andy knows well enough to leave them to it.

--

“Hmmm! You weren’t lying about the meatballs.”

“I know right, like, what’s the secret?”

“Probably E-numbers.”

“Don’t ruin these for me, Jon!”

“Haha, alright. Help me out with the chips?”

“You finished?”

“The hot dog was enough, I’m getting full.”

“Pass them over then…. You know, I think we did alright with our spoils today. And it wasn’t so bad, all told.”

“We have to get this all in the car yet.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

[sdktrs12]

From Primer (a season two canon divergent fic) -

Beth giggles as she waves a hand out behind her, not bothering to turn around as the Uber that just dropped her off at home backs out of her driveway, Annie and Ruby’s voices drifting out through the open window as they sing along to whatever 80’s pop ballad they’d forced the driver to put on.

It’s two in the morning and she prays Mrs. Karpinski loaded up on enough of her bedtime martinis that she isn’t awakened by their off tune singing.

She fumbles a little with the doorknob, cursing that last glass of bourbon she had for her current state of inebriation, before she realizes it’s not even locked. She rolls her eyes as she finally shoves the front door open and stumbles across the threshold.

Beth haphazardly kicks the door shut behind her, smile fading as she pauses in the entryway to silently take in the house’s current state of disarray.

There are various toys and shoes strewn about alongside piles of laundry and Beth leans heavily against the wall as the quiet of the house presses in on her.

It’s deafening.

Dean had made an offhand remark this morning over breakfast about packing for the family trip they’d apparently planned awhile back and that Beth had apparently then promptly forgotten.

And really, she still thinks it was a bit unfair of him to react as badly as he had, the subsequent condescending remarks he’d made triggering a blowout between the two of them that had admittedly been brewing for quite some time.

But between the dealership and the pill drops, it had been all too easy to absentmindedly cover up the mini car decal on the calendar with a layer of vin number post its and scratched out almost indistinguishable notations marking dates and times.

And with the way Rio had been running her ragged with both businesses, there was no way she would’ve been able to just drop everything and leave. So, she’d suggested they reschedule for a later as-to-be-determined date, which she thought was a fairly reasonable suggestion.

Apparently it hadn’t been.

She’d come home from work to an empty house, Dean having packed up the kids and taken them on the trip without her.