#historically I would say this is some sort of omen or sign from God that I’ve done something wrong

[peaches2217]

So this is officially the worst night ever and I will never emotionally recover from this. (I’m perfectly fine, I’m just bummed and intend to be as dramatic about it as possible to make myself feel better. 😆)

I had to wait until payday to get my medications, but I couldn’t pick them up until today. I also had a missions meeting at church today after work, so I figured I’d pick up my meds before the meeting. I was looking forward to both! Then I get an email saying the meeting was canceled. Sad, but oh well, that gives me more time to just chill after picking up my meds.

But then! The pharmacy is closed when I get there, even though they’re not scheduled to close for another hour and a half! There’s no note or anything explaining why they closed early, so I pray everyone and everything is alright, but also I’ve been off my meds for a few days now, which isn’t really helping the pre-existing depressive episode any.

So when I get home, I realize I have one bottle of water left. I have to turn right around and go get some more. While I’m out, I figured I’d treat myself to a massive Dr. Pepper. I’ve earned it! And nothing lifts the spirits quite like my favorite drink.

I get home. I drop my keys closing the car door. I set my Dr. Pepper on the hood so I can quickly grab my keys. I’m sure y’all can tell where this is going. I now have nothing more than an empty cup coated in a mix of Dr. Pepper and dirt with a couple of ice cubes still inside.

It’s only 6 and I’m ready to just go to bed and call it a day. 😭

[kerflooey]

i hadn't rewatched good omens season one since about a week before season two aired and i'm bursting with thoughts i'll try to phrase as eloquently as possible, but my main statement is (and has been since the season dropped) that aziraphale's decision to go back to heaven makes nothing but sense.

i'll start by saying that for the most part (except for some moments in the flashbacks and the very final scene at the ritz) the difference in aziraphale's behavior towards crowley is striking to me . not to say that the way he feels is different, he is just very determined to ignore it and play the part he's meant to play.

this is because heaven is his priority, it's his purpose. he might have his doubts about how things are done (not why!) and he might not necessarily enjoy the company of other angels, but he truly believes in God. he truly believes that any decision he disagrees with is justifiable because well, they don't know humans like he does. if he just explains it should be fine! or, he has leeway to make it fine (see: job). if he didn't, there would've been consequences already.

he truly believes in doing good (and he can be extremely arrogant about it too, because he clings to his 'i'm an angel therefore nothing i do could possibly be wrong' philosophy like a lifeline. ironic considering who put it in his head in the first place), and that to keep doing good is the most important thing. why wouldn't he? it's his entire reason for existing.

he's allowed himself to expand and grow beyond that, but without ever decentering it. just look at what he loves: art (and a very specific kind of art, mind you. i don't really see him enjoying any sort of overcritical or cynical pieces), food, storytelling ... all things that have been historically used as a way to perpetuate faith and repurpose, justify, glorify even any suffering. martyrdom is pretty!

so when armageddon comes around he is at an impasse. it's the moment to choose between heaven and himself (and crowley). and in so very typical aziraphale fashion he chooses to go with both - as far as he can. when it truly comes down to it, he chooses heaven. and the choice doesn't happen in the bandstand - it happens the moment he finds the nice and accurate prophecies and decides to hide it from crowley, look into it alone and report to heaven about it first. (my god he really did give so many signs).

once heaven doesn't respond the way he expects he decides it's time to try his leeway and go to crowley, but when crowley doesn't do exactly what he wants either and suggests to do nothing instead of good aziraphale chooses to turn to heaven instead. again.

he loves crowley, he really does, but from where i see it he also mistakenly thinks crowley has a lot more freedom of choice than he actually does. he can't not be good and he would never want to be bad, but crowley (in azi's eyes) chooses to be good many times. so every time they've had this argument he thinks why won't you choose to be good and do the right thing!

it's the bandstand, it's the arrival and it's the decision to go back to heaven. for him it's the right thing to do. not only has he struggled tremendously being entirely disconnected from heaven (he loves knowledge and he loves God, of course he misses reporting to heaven and feeling like the decisions - to do good - he makes have purpose and recognition) but he doesn't want gabriel to struggle with it either. he doesn't know what happened to gabriel and never does find out why it happened.

martyrdom is pretty, so it only makes sense that he would choose to leave what he's built - including this new sense of freedom and exploration of the situationship with crowley - behind for the opportunity to do Good. the opportunity to have All The Leeway, and make the decisions, and he will know best. it makes perfect sense! and no, he wouldn't want to do it without crowley, he loves crowley, he knows crowley pushes him to be better by forcing him to see and do things he'd rather ignore, but to him, crowley is the one choosing not to do good with him.

and everyone hates the line but it makes sense that he would say 'you're the bad guys!' in that moment because in his eyes crowley is actively choosing to be bitter and selfish instead of selfless and good. crowley who taught him the right thing isn't always the comfortable thing. because can he not see how good he'd be, they'd be for heaven? with more plans afoot how could he possibly not want to get involved and make sure everything is Good? he feels just as abandoned. the kiss destroys him because it reinforces his impression that crowley wants them to be selfish, he says 'i forgive you', i forgive you for making me want this and want it more desperately than i want the greater good, which is my purpose and my duty. and that last look they exchange is a plea from both sides.

[pendragonsgallery]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

tagged by @roszabell my best and only mutual :D sorry it took so long

What book are you currently reading?

Rereading Good Omens because it’s one of my favorite books. I also just finished Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi for a class and it is so fantastic that if I had more social skills I would just start recommending it to random people on the street.

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year?

I have barely been to theaters this year, but I recently saw Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, and I cried eight times. Such a good movie.

What do you usually wear?

My friends say that 80% of my closet is green and they’re not wrong. I wear a ridiculous amount of sweaters and jeans. I wear a lot of rings as well to play with during class :)

How tall are you?

5’3. Shortest in my family 😌✌️

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

I am a Pisces! I share a birthday with Rebel Wilson, Bon Jovi, and the premiere of Sound of Music.

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

I don’t have any nicknames currently, but I had very creative middle school friends who gave me some truly ridiculous ones <3

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Currently working really hard for it!

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Nope! I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, but I’m happy with my friends right now and am too focused on passing my next math exam to think about relationships. Unless Oscar Isaac counts. Beautiful man.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I am good at saying “screw it” and doing stuff I’m scared to do, and I’m terrible at asking for any sort of help when I need it.

Dogs or cats?

Both! If it has fur, I will probably want to hug it.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?

I’ve had a lot of projects this year! Always drawing, but I’ve finally started posting my fanfiction, Asterism, that’s been in the back of my mind for years. Other than that, I published a short story to a writing magazine that I definitely want to expand on, and I’ve got too many My Hero Academia, Arcane, Stranger Things and DSMP fic ideas saved up to count :]

What’s something you would like to create content for?

Definitely my own original works, but they’re just not at that stage yet. Maybe someday!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Stranger Things is a love of mine right now, and have recently gotten back into Six of Crows, Arcane, and My Hero Academia. Voltron still has me in a chokehold so that’s been a fun development.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Most holidays. Didn’t really do anything :/

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I can play most piano songs by ear, and I can do a really good impression of Tsuyu Asui 🐸

Are you religious?

I suppose. I grew up in a Christian school and just never had the connection with God other kids did and asked too many questions 😅. Still identify as religious, but in my own way. It's a big ol’ 🤷 for me.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

As of 2 minutes ago, a sword. Like a Narnia sword oh my god I want a sword so bad.

I don’t really have other mutuals so I’ll just pick two accounts I follow and love @babyboyargyle and @isbuckybarnesokay

[piristephes]

Hellenic Divination - Ornithomancy

 Khairete, friends!

 By request of a lovely friend of mine (Hey, Adri) I decided to write down what I know of divination. However, I must say that the pagan Tumblr community has no shortage of content on the arts of predicting the future! You can find plenty awesome posts about the art of reading cards (cartomancy) or even bone-throwing techniques that will give you omens that you’ve been seeking.

 Regardless of wheter you are a hellenic polytheist or not, this post may suit your needs of a very particular kind of divination: Ornithomancy - the art of divination that studies omens delivered by birds.

 But before we get to why in the name of Apollon would you like to watch birds flying to predict if that job interview will turn out ok as you’re trying to survive admist a deadly plague ravaging the entire planet, I feel like we need to define why Ornithomancy (called Augury by the romans) is a thing in the first place.

The seer, Calchas, about to sacrifice Iphigenia to the goddess Artemis, who saves her and replaces the girl with a deer to be sacrificed in her place.

For starters, ornithomancy is quite the fancy word - ornithos (bird) and mantis (seer) - but it serves its purpose: This divination art is practiced by watching birds fly in the search of various omens regarding your inquire. One of the most well known examples of a ornithoskopos (literally bird interpreter) is the mythic seer Calchas from the Illiad, who was regarded as the best in the art, his abilities so praised that it is said that he could tell past, present and future just by watching the omens of the Gods admist the birds.

 But why birds? One may ask.

 Sarah Iles Johnston’s Ancient Greek Divination tell us that birds inhabit both the earthly domain and the heavenly domain, being capable of delivering omens from the Gods to us. As a matter of fact in Hellenic Polytheism plenty Gods have sacred animals which you really would like to look into if you’re asking for some sort of sign from the Theoi. Crows for Apollon, certain species of owls to Athena, others to Hades, roosters and vultures for Ares...That list goes on and on.

 Reading unusual signs is a valid way to interpret signs of the Gods, really. In a A Companion to Greek Religion by Daniel Ogden there’s quite the list of the complex divinatory ways of Ancient Greece. But, to list a few, one could watch out for signs in nature, natural phenomena, body signs and animal behaviour. Watching birds was but one of the many fields of specialization a mantis would seek out in order to predict the future.

 Some authors, like Plutarch in On The Cleverness of Animals, tell us that the Gods sometimes warn us through the usage of birds, sending signs in our way of various meaning through the flight of birds. Alexandra Nikaios, a brazilian hellenic polytheist of the RHB - Brazilian Hellenic Reconstructionism tell us that an inscription of a sanctuary of Artemis in Ephesus (current Turkey) from the 5th or 6th century BCE offer details on how to read the bird omens, just as many other sources like Hesiod on Works and Days, advising a farmer to “judge the birds” before taking an important decision.

So how does one do it?

 Usually a mantis could ask the Gods, pray for Zeus for some signs or spontaneously spot an unusual bird activity. Sometimes the seers would prefer to sit in a proper and sacred place to do it, others would do it anywhere. The various sources here listed will vary in some accounts, but most agree in some very valid points like:

Coming from the right side. - Good omen. Coming from the left side. - Bad omen.

The Greeks would look to the north to seek for answers, where as the Romans would look to the South.

Coming in your way - Good sign. Coming from behind you - Bad sign.

 All of the above could change depending on the bird or the question you’re asking. Now take into account some valid questions when going through an ornithomantic session.

Is the bird associated with some particular deity?

How commonly do I see this bird around?

How was the bird behaving? Was it flying, roosting or just jumping around?

Was it only one bird or an entire flock?

What was the colour of the birds I observed?

Does this bird mean something in particular to me or to my culture?

If I was that bird, doing what it was doing, what does that mean to me?

 Those questions may enlighten you on what kind of omens you’re receiving, it differs from person to person, really. A hummingbird would be a lovely sight for someone, where as here in the brazilian northeastern state of Sergipe if one enters your home three times in a row it could mean incoming death - possibly by a heart attack.

This is a highly personal kind of divination with several things to take into account but I really like it. The Gods delivered some of the most dramatic signs to me in the form birds flying around or doing unusual things. The first time I received a sign it was night, I was by the lagoon and my heart was aching with some decisions that I took regarding a toxic friend of mine - so I prayed to Athena and Apollon, asking for some sort of sign. And then boom, an owl flied over me towards the north and screeching very loudly into the gloomy night.

 In that moment I felt the confirmation that I was doing the right thing on not talking to this friend anymore! Right now, however, I could interpret it differently: It was a barn owl, or a Rasga-Mortalha (Pall-tearer, quite an ominous name) as we call it here in Brazil. Taking into account what followed during such year I could say it meant “Yeah you’re taking a wise decision but by no means expect this to be an easy route”

So, yeah, it can be quite the dramatic way of predicting the future.

But historically speaking it’s been such a huge part of divinatory history! It’s a very strong method of looking into the will of the Gods and communicating with Them.

If you have any more additions, feel free to enrich this post with even more information. May Apollon bless you with wisdom when trying to do divination and good luck!

Sources used: Ornitomancia (by Alexandra Nikaios); Ancient Greek Divination by Sarah Iles Johnston; The Seer in Ancient Greece by Flower Michael; Works and Days by Hesiod; A Companion to Greek Religion by Daniel Ogden; On The Cleverness of Animals by Plutarch.

[justkeeptrekkin]

Wrote a little Good Omens/Star Trek crossover

.... for the awesome @comicgeekery​. Thanks for the inspo!

5th April, 2063

“--historic day for humankind. For this is truly the first time that we have been able to refer to ourselves as such with the certainty that there is, in fact, life elsewhere in the perceivable universe.”

It’s a balmy, spring afternoon in London when Crowley rolls out of bed and turns on the television. Honestly, he’s fairly used to ignoring the news; it’s only on because he’d left it on channel one last night for a nature documentary that he and Aziraphale have been watching about whales. That’s why he pays very little attention to the picture on his projector screen.

“-- quite extraordinary. It seems as if this was all triggered by Zefram Cochrane's attempt at warp-speed flight, and er-- just coming in now, these beings call themselves Vulcans, Jane, and-- aha-- well, they’re not quite saying that they come in peace, but if our translators are correct, they’re offering us a long and prosperous life--”

Crowley slams his mug on the counter. He’s run out of coffee. He could very easily conjure up some more now, right here, but miracle-coffee is never as good as the nice Costa Rican stuff he buys. Or, more accurately, that Aziraphale buys for him, because he’s just that much of a kept man, apparently.

A knocking at the door. A light rapping that Crowley recognises immediately, and it would usually make him humiliatingly happy except for the fact that he’s just woken up from a--

He checks the time on the TV screen.

 -- from a two week nap, he hasn’t got any coffee, and the TV is blabbering on far too loudly. Waving a hand at said TV until it is muted, Crowley slides over to the door, dressing gown belt flapping about against his leg, and opens it with a flourish.

 Aziraphale has that bright-eyed, bushy-tailed look about him: never a good sign. “Crowley--”

Crowley plants a brief kiss on his cheek, then immediately retreats back into the kitchen, shoulders heavy with sleep. “I’m going back to sleep, angel. World’s too loud still.”

”Crowley--” the sound of the door slamming, very purposefully, Crowley thinks, as Azriaphale continues: “I have been trying to call you all morning. I thought you left your phone on vibrate for such things.”

 “I did. Didn’t I?” Crowley scratches his head. He’s sure he’d changed the ring tone for Aziraphale’s phone number specifically so he’d wake up when only he called. “Apparently not, sorry Angel-- any news?”

He sees the way Aziraphale is rolling his eyes and flapping about when he turns back around from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. His hands are fiddling with each other in that excitable way that they do, a happy nervous way that he’s come to adore. Crowley hands him a cup. Aziraphale takes it with a pointed raise of his brow.

“Any -- any news? Really. You could not have asked a more absurd--”

At that point, apparently, he’s lost for words. More frustrated than Crowley realised, and so he begins to take Aziraphale’s bright eyes and bushy tail a little more seriously. Particularly when Aziraphale puts down the cup of tea of all things, and gestures to the television, one arm outstretched and gaze still fixed on Crowley.

The screen remains muted. However, Crowley gathers what Aziraphale is gesturing at fairly quickly. He’s so used to letting the news blend into the background, tired of feeling depressed by the human race -- especially with this World War III nonsense -- that he’d completely missed that something, actually, rather important has been happening.

It looks like the research base in San Francisco. Crowley knows only a little about this; as the angel who created a fair few of the stars in the sky, he takes interest when humans start pointing their big magnifying glasses at them. Zefram Cochrane, the inventor of warp-speed engines, and a few other important looking men (who may well be important, what does Crowley know? He hasn’t been paying attention) welcomes three people. People, except they’re not human. Humanoid, perhaps, but human? No. Crowley can spot an alien a mile off.

“Crikey,” he mutters, hovering in his sparse living room with his dressing gown open and tea steaming.

Aziraphale nods fervently.

“Which ones are these?”

“These are the Vulcans,” Aziraphale explains. “Do you remember? Our colleagues -- oh, I forget their names -- a few of our colleagues helped set up. Erm.” Aziraphale purses his lips. “Well, their version of Eden.”

“Something like Sha Ka Ray, if I remember,” Crowley mutters, unblinking as he watches one of the Vulcans raise their hand in a v-shape, the humans mimicking.

“That was it! Sha Ka Ree.”

They’re wearing long, heavy cloaks. Even expressions, but glints in their eyes, as if they are taking some professional enjoyment out of this. The humans, barely containing their own excitement -- and probably a good dose of apprehension. Human beings, finally meeting an alien species who could take them down a notch, teach the buggers a couple of things. Crowley and Aziraphale certainly never managed to, much as they’ve tried. Far too stubborn.

After a while of sitting and watching the proceedings-- the beginnings of a new, enterprising delegation-- Crowley gives a long exhale.

“Those bowl cuts are questionable.”

Stardate: 53459 (17th July 2269)

“What? Just give them a quick ring? Give the flagship of Starfleet’s exploratory expedition a cheeky call, just to check in? ‘Hello Enterprise, nice to meet you’?”

“Yes. Why, do you not think that they’d appreciate it?”

“It’s less that they won’t appreciate it and more that it might blow their tiny minds, Angel.”

“They’ve met plenty of extraordinary species by this point -- extraordinary by their standards, anyway. A call from us will be -- how do they put it -- ‘a walk in the park’--?”

“Not the point. That’s -- that’s actually the bit that I’m struggling with, here. What is the point, exactly? What are you aiming to achieve? You looking to freak them out or…?”

“Well, I thought perhaps we could… ah. Tell them who we are.”

Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Red hair tied up, ringlets around his face; silver eye-shadow; a black jumpsuit in the style of the Terran fashion that really leaves very little to the imagination, with cut-outs here and there all over his body. Legs crossed, foot bouncing impatiently, arms sprawled across the back of Aziraphale’s sofa. In his old bookshop, Crowley always sticks out like a sore thumb, and he’s always loved that about him.

He tilts his head. “Really,” he drawls, vaguely amused.

“Yes. Don’t you think it’s about time?”

“IIIII dunno…” Crowley sucks air through his teeth contemplatively. “Never ends very well. Tell humans that angels and demons roam their planet and they get all agitated. Don’t need to tell you that, you remember how much it traumatised dear old Hieronymous. Couldn’t stop painting us, the poor bastard.”

Aziraphale sighs. “Yes, well, that was different. That was almost a millennia ago, now.”

The bookshop is still just as dusty as it has ever been. Crowley has been urging him to at least install a proper computer -- one that will answer to him, rather than sitting there stupidly, looking like a brick. But he is quite happy with it as it is, especially when he has Crowley here, lounging about as he’s always done, draped across the furniture like he’s still wrapped around that apple tree. And drinking more wine than is good for them.

“Right so -- let’s just role-play this--” Crowley’s glass makes a decisive clink against the table, “-- we patch into their network. Right? I find their frequency and just, try and call from my PADD.”

“Yes,” he confirms, not liking his partner’s tone of voice.

“So then they answer, all, military-like and ready for some sort of diplomatic… situation.”

“Mm…”

Crowley’s leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating a enthusiastically. “They see us, they’re all, ‘oi, how did you get this number?’ and we’re all, ‘sorry, just thought we’d pop in and introduce ourselves, we’re your new neighbours,’” he wrinkles his nose mockingly, “‘Cept we’re not new at all, not really, we’ve been here since the dawn of time, but don’t worry too much about that’.”

“Well--”

“So they’re all, ‘ah, immortal beings from outer space!’ and we have to explain that, actually, we’re not really from space at all, we’re the ones who made space, and no, sorry, we’d love to patch you through to God, except She’s been a little busy for the past six thousand odd years, no can do, just got us boring old sods’.”

“Crowley, really. Don’t you think you’re being a little reductionist?”

“No.” Suddenly serious. “I don’t. They’re humans. They’re brilliant, but they’re also humans, which means they’re also thick as shit.”

Aziraphale purses his lips, electing to ignore the love of his life for this moment. Sitting up properly, linking his hands in his lap. “I think it’s time.”

“And what do you think they’ll do?”

“Perhaps it will bring about some new, interesting philosophy. About the nature of the universe, of the overlap between science and faith.”

Crowley’s brow quirks, yellow eyes staring, wide and disbelieving. “Some ‘new and interesting philosophy’? Books. You’re talking about books. You think you’ll get some nice literature out of this.”

Aziraphale flounders. “Well, that’s not exactly how I’d put it--”

Crowley scowls. But then, he’s taking out his PADD from his purse, making aggravated noises as his fingers fly across the screen.

“You’re doing it?” Aziraphale asks hopefully.

“Yes, yes. You got all happy as soon as you started talking about it and-- I was never really going to say no, was I? You know how pathetic I am by this point, surely.”

He’s not looking at him, but Aziraphale is gazing with those big, angel-eyes that Crowley’s told him he uses sometimes. They drive him insane, but he can’t help it, not when Crowley’s being so unintentionally romantic. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Shhhht. Stop. I’m not doing anything nice, I’m--”

“Not nice, I know.”

Aziraphale smiles serenely. Crowley’s scowl deepens, just as the PADD begins to ring.

The screen is propped up against a wine bottle, just in time for the image to reveal a man. A man in green and gold, sand-blonde hair swept back and a look of cautious curiosity in his hazel eyes. Behind his chair, a woman in red is leaning over the controls. The captain’s head is angled slightly, tilted as he seems to consider his situation -- consider the two strangers who have called their starship.

“Greetings, this is Captain Kirk of the Starship: Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?”

“Oh, how exciting,” Aziraphale whispers, nudging Crowley a little. Then, more loudly, “Greetings, Captain Kirk! My name is Aziraphale, and this is Crowley.”

Crowley sighs, seeming very put upon.

Aziraphale nudges him again. “Well! Don’t be rude, Crowley.”

“Yes, hello, how very nice to meet you,” he simpers accordingly.

“This is a secure line, gentlemen. How did you access our co-ordinates?”

“Ah, yep, sorry, my fault,” Crowley waves a hand. “I’m -- well, we’re, er… we can do stuff. Lots of stuff. He’ll explain later.”

He shoots Aziraphale a glare, which seems to be a warning that this could go horribly wrong. Aziraphale, ever the opportunist, elects to ignore this.

“That I shall,” Aziraphale adds, pointedly.

Kirk thinks. He thinks, sitting so still as he leans towards the monitor, that for a moment, Azirpahale thinks the screen has frozen. Then, turning his head to his right, he notes that he is talking to someone. A certain someone who then appears on screen, a royal blue shirt and hands clasped behind his back. A Vulcan. The two converse with a silent look.

Ah. Aziraphale knows that look very well. 

“Be that as it may,” Kirk continues, turning back to them, “it is technically a federal crime to trace Starfleet co-ordinates and to contact a ship without first organising an official meeting. That is, unless it is an emergency.”

“Oh, yes, I have heard of your ship’s adventures, captain,” Aziraphale rushes. He puts down his glass of wine. “You’ve done an awful lot of good, helping those in need.”

“We… do our best,” he says with a slow nod.

“Sorry. For the, er… illegal call,” Crowley says.

Another moment where both men share a glance. And then, the Vulcan in blue tilts an inquisitive chin.

“Sir, may I enquire as to the colour of your eyes? They do not appear to be contact lenses.”

It takes a moment for Crowley to realise that he’s the one being addressed. Then, “Ah! Bollocks. Forgot the sunglasses-- see Aziraphale, this is why we don’t call Starfleet when we’ve had two bottles of Rioja.”

“Awfully sorry, dear--”

The captain looks up at his colleague with a wry smile and a raised brow. “Spock, don’t you think it’s a little rude to as a stranger questions about their appearance?”

“A stranger who has made contact with Starfleet’s flagship outside of legal parameters.”

“Still, politeness can go a long way,” he adds with a smirk, and a look in his eyes that’s, quite frankly, obscene.

Crowley clears his throat. “To answer your question-- although, seems like they’re more interested in each other,” he says to Aziraphale as an aside, “- to answer your question, yeah, they’re real. Snake eyes. Unfortunate accident involving a bastard called Lucifer.”

A pause. The man named Spock tilts his head. Kirk leans forward in his seat.

“Lucifer, you say?”

At that, Crowley gives a wicked smile. Aziraphale sighs. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined this conversation starting.

Stardate: 51650 (9th May 2271)

“My point is -- my point is -- tribbles. Tribbles, now -- whose idea were those, then? Who thought they were a good idea? They’ve -- they’ve not got faces, they’ve not got hands or feet or paws or anything, just, little balls of fluff that just poof! Reproduce, until you’re up to your tits in furballs.”

“Now, tha’s what ah been tryna tell yeh, captain. And you mind what he’s saying, too, Lieutenant Uhura! I know you thought they’s adorable, but they’re terrors.”

“Pointless, they’re pointless. Don’t know what they were thinking of when they made tribbles, whoever they were.”

“Aye! See, straight from the mouth of an angel!”

“Er, former angel.”

”Them wee bastards’ve been cloggin’ up my ship’s engine, would ye believe?”

 “Our ship, Scotty.”

 “Oh. Well, o’course, captain… I didnae mean no disrespect, captain--”

 “In Russia--”

“I swear, if you’re about to say that Russia invented tribbles, Chekov, I’ll kick you out of this here bar faster than you can say Alabama Slammer.”

“Alright, now, Bones, it’s shore leave. He can say what he wants. We’re all here to relax. Isn’t that right, Spock?”

“Yeah, he sure looks relaxed there, Jim.”

“I am not accustomed to frequenting such establishments.”

“I would like to state, for the wecord, sir, that I was not going to say that Russia inwented tribbles.”

“I -- ah -- actually, I have a bit of a confession to make in that respect…”

“Angel. Please. Please don’t tell me that you’re… Christ, you didn’t…”

“You are the angel responsible for creating the tribble species?”

“You have a lot to answer for, Aziraphale.”

“It wasn’t intentional! Or, rather, the intention was to simply create a creature so lovely and adorable that no one could quite resist it. And, I suppose, what with evolution and how that may have changed their, erm, reproduction process…”

“You bastard.”

“Crowley -- for Heaven’s sake, it was simply an accident! You can hardly say that it’s worse than some of your creations.”

“I invented Luton airport. You invented the universe’s most irritating pest. Honestly, I figured some lower ranking demon had been the one to come up with it, but now I feel, sort of… betrayed.”

“Don’t say that! May I remind you that you are the one who came up with the M25? Which nearly destroyed the universe as we know it!”

“I beg your pardon? Would you care to rewind and just, explain that last bit, Aziraphale?”

“Oh -- er, it’s a long story.”

“A very long story that would mean another round. Angel, you are definitely bloody-well buying.”

Stardate: 43897 (24th November 2366)

“You know, when you said that you wanted to check-in with Picard and the team, this isn’t what I imagined.”

Their call isn’t immediately picked up. However, when it is, the first thing they see is a large barbershop quartet. They’re all wearing pink, candy-stripe suits and wicker hats. The bridge of the Enterprise looks much the same as it did under captain Kirk, if not for this barbershop quartet, and perhaps a few technological tweaks. And, of course, the current captain who sits in his chair, face in his hand.

“Er.” Crowley looks at Aziraphale, who looks back at Crowley. “This doesn’t look like a good time.”

“No, by all means,” Picard gestures to the screen, other hand still covering his face. “If you have any advice to offer, then I will happily take it.”

“What…” Aziraphale trails off, purses his lips. The, trying to affect something light and airy, “What seems to be the problem, captain?”

Picard looks over the edge of his hand. “Are you aware of the being that calls itself ‘Q’?”

He’s about to say that he isn’t -- perhaps Crowley knows this Q?-- but before they even have a moment to deliberate, the tallest of the barbershop quartet members steps forward from the throng and hops down the steps to Picard’s side. Dark eyes that have seen too much, brightened by mischief. And for a moment, there is the faintest flicker of recognition as he doffs his hat to the screen, leaning against Picard’s captain chair.

“Good day to you, gentlemen. Did you like my song?”

“No,” Picard says quite firmly. “Now, would you please leave and take your pestering elsewhere!”

Q tuts, rolls his eyes. Pokes his thumb in Picard’s direction. “He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t had his morning cup of Earl Grey.”

“You…”

It’s Crowley that says this. Leaning forward on Aziraphale’s sofa, snake pupils narrowing. And it’s then that Aziraphale realises that this is absolutely someone they know. He just can’t put his finger on it, whilst Crowley clearly has.

“You know him?” Picard says, with the smallest flicker of hope.

“Wait. Wait a second now,” Q points his finger at Crowley, frown deepening. He miracles his hat away, cradles his chin. “Now, we worked together a long time ago, didn’t we?”

That makes Aziraphale stare back at Crowley.

There’s some hesitance. “Oh. Sure, probably. Long time ago, now, wasn’t it? Who knows. Worked with lots of people.”

“No, no, no -- we did a lot of creating with each other. Some fun messing around you know?”

“Er. Not sure. Might have a different person in mind--”

And then those eyes widen. A wicked grin on his face, and Aziraphale can only imagine that this Q must be a demon.

That’s when Aziraphale finds himself standing on the bridge of the Enterprise. Jean-Luc Picard looking up at them despairingly, whilst the rest of his crew work as diligently as they can with a quartet serenading them. Data, notably, is working with the utmost focus, whilst Wharf looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping something in half bare-handed. Riker looks no more patient.

“Oh,” Aziraphale remarks. “You’ve -- you miracled us here!”

No use, Q is far too preoccupied by Crowley. Pointing a finger in recognition. “You’re Crawly! I remember you! Oh, we got up to some good stuff together, huh? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of the guys from the Milky Way neighbourhood. You guys really like to keep to yourselves, I never understood it. Totally obsessed with your ‘Eden’ as if the rest of us don’t exist.”

“You o know him,” Picard says with some accusation.

Crowley looks, to put it lightly, a little embarrassed. Hands sliding in his pockets and averting his snake-eyed gaze, “Yup. Long time ago. Hung out with a different crowd, then, you got to understand…”

“Qasphiel.” The name bubbles up on Aziraphale’s tongue from nowhere; memories of a gaggle of angels who called themselves the Q Continuum, who were cast out for blasphemy. Creating your own little gang was never something that The Almighty did like. “You’re Qasphiel. You know, I do remember you, now that I think about it.”

Q looks Aziraphale up and down once. “I don’t remember you. Were you one of the more straight-laced types? Yeah, we wouldn’t have hung out, much.”

“Excuse me? I… I’ll have you know, that since then I’ve become quite the rebel--”

“What’re you doing here, Qasphiel?” Crowley interrupts with some exhaustion. “Coming in here and getting on everyone’s nerves -- believe me, I get that it’s fun for a while, but, come on. You must be a bit knackered of it now, no matter what the others are getting you to do.”

“Ah, but I don’t work on anyone’s terms any more. Not even the Continuum’s,” Q smiles smugly.

“That’s awfully nice, but the alternative is buggering off, so the rest of us can get on with our lives.”

He narrows his eyes at Crowley. “What’s in it for me?”

A weary sigh. And Aziraphale considers just how kind Crowley has always been, even if he doesn’t always see it. “Listen. How about -- what about a catch-up. Grab a drink on some planet in the Omicron Delta quadrant. Talk about old times? Big Bang and all that?”

“Ah yes,” Q sighs. Then, apparently distracted, “You know, I don’t recall the yellow eyes,” he gestures to his own. “The demonic thing. Did you fall with Lucy and the others, Crawly? Bad luck.”

“That’s a story that needs telling over a drink.”

There’s a long moment -- too long a moment -- where Q considers this offer. Picard is leaning back in his seat and watching the interaction over steepled fingers. Even Data has stopped to listen, head tilted in interest.

Then, Q shrugs.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

And with that, Picard’s bridge is once again empty of divine or immortal beings. Or barbershop quartets. It is extraordinarily quiet.

Picard lets out a long exhale. “Never a dull day.”

 Stardate: unknown

Three suns set upon the horizon of Alpha Centauri. Palm trees wave in the breeze; planted there a few decades ago when this planet first became populated by humanoid species. The air tastes like salt and smells like ozone. A burning orange sky, a deep purple scattering of stars directly above them. Small, clay houses, their shutters closed in the late afternoon heat. Mountain ranges in the distance, seeming so small from their little balcony.

“Total tourist trap,” Crowley mutters into his glass of Romulan ale.

Aziraphale stifles a burp. “Sorry?”

“Look at it. Tourist trap.” Crowley crosses his legs on the railing of the balcony. “All of it. Built like a Terran city, as well. Palm trees and all that bollocks. Shops and restaurants, Christ, it couldn’t get more human if you tried. When will they stop colonising and just learn to appreciate?”

“Mmm.”

“Remember when we could come here and not be harassed by people selling sunglasses? When it was just a big, ol’ expanse?”

“Empty,” Aziraphale remarks. Then, wide eyed, “Hot.”

They watch the first sun dip behind the mountain ranges. The Romulan ale burns Crowley’s throat nicely.

“D’you ever wonder what it would’ve been like?”

Aziraphale takes a slow, indulgent breath. And Crowley knows that he understands what he’s asking. “Sometimes. But I think it’s better that we didn’t run away. We did save the universe, after all.”

“I know, obviously. But do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t?”

Of course he does. They both have. Images of a war-torn universe, of all of this: gone.

Crowley drops his hand, finds Aziraphale’s. Their fingers link, and they absorb the light of three, alien stars.

[cnfhumss12a-blog]

The Little Red District

By Allyssa Sabelle Chua

Found within the busy streets of Manila is the Philippines Lucky Chinatown, it is known as one of the oldest in the world. This place is actually a setting in one of Jose Rizal’s famous novels which goes to show how involve this place is in Filipino history. This is due to the reason that the Chinese people have been trading with the Filipinos and the Kastillas (known as the Spanish) during their time of colonization. Yes, Lucky Chinatown is a place of many events and happenings. This is where I will start the story of how I, a Chinese-Filipino myself, explored this historical place.

Let me first give a brief background about my ethnicity, my Chinese family did not immigrate during the time of the Spaniards but during the Japanese occupation of China wherein they had to escape communism. Those two relatives of mine, my great grandfathers, went to the Philippines to escape not only the Japanese but communism. This will all be another story, but as you can see, they escaped to the Philippines without knowing how to speak in Spanish or Tagalog. Simply coming here with what they only have made them miss home, but they had to work. Luckily, there was Chinatown, which is mostly referred to as Ongpin. I’ll set this straight, Ongpin is just a district of Chinatown. Here in the Philippines, Chinatown is known as Binondo, so it’s a pretty big place from what you can see.

Ongpin is a famous Chinese-Filipino, commonly known as Tsinoy or Chinoy, so what did he do to earn himself a street? He is not only a businessman but he aided in the revolutionaries against the Spanish and American colonization. Pretty interesting isn’t it? Now, you know what’s even more interesting besides the history of Binondo? My own family history. I decided not to search in the internet or whatsoever, instead I kept on asking and calling up my Ama (Grandmother) of what is there to see in Chinatown. What she did to help me is send me stories of her and her family going to Chinatown to spend leisure time, and her father is also a part of the Ang’s association. I am not sure if that association still exists today since my Ama was still a young maiden during that time.

Okay, so let me guide you first of how I explored back to Ongpin, retracing the steps of my Ama, well at least trying to. I first met up with my aunt at Taft so that both of us can have a fun trip at Binondo, she did a bit of her research but we really didn’t use it as much. We first rode from Vito Cruz station and got off at Carriedo station. Once we arrived in Binondo, we were seeing stalls and vendors almost everywhere, saying various things from food to clothes to knick knacks. My Aunt and I were really lost, I didn’t call up my Ama yet because I thought of ‘Why not explore it first by getting lost? It’s a new kind of narrative’. So my Aunt and I did it, and we were really lost and going almost everywhere but reaching nowhere.

I’m telling you we don’t know what street we were at, or if we were really at Chinatown but we were walking while trying to look for one thing that can help us find it, the red lantern. Thankfully we found it and walked right towards it and decided to walk by the busy districts. We eventually found this small shop that sold many lucky charms, my aunt and I exhaled in joy that we were finally here in Chinatown… sort of. Since I did not know what Binondo was since my Ama referred to it as Ongpin, I did not know it was actually a district. So here I was, thinking I was exploring all there was to Binondo but it was only a district. Don’t be fooled though, Ongpin is an interesting place and so is the history of my family.

From there we asked the shop vendor if where Ongpin is, they pointed to a street and gave vague directions, but we were able to find one thing, which was Ongpin’s commercial district. My aunt and I were searching for something that makes Chinatown unique, like a tourist spot and so on. She led the way with the little knowledge she had from her short research last night. We continued to walk, looking for the tourist spots, but nothing’s to be really found in the commercial center. It is mostly shops for people to do negotiations or to commercialize their products, well if you’re interested in business perhaps you can ask the people in those establishments on how they manage and run it.

Then on we started to walk, we still haven’t found the tourist spots my Aunt searched for last night. Then we started to see red sidewalks and more lanterns, we continued to walk and at least found this gateway. I sighed with relief thinking to myself that this has to be Ongpin, the real Ongpin that my Aunt saw in the internet and was glamourized by the pictures of famous photographers. Well, it wasn’t exactly as beautiful as the photographs but let me tell you why I find this gateway interesting. The gate itself is an entrance for goodluck, which is why it is in the color red; the meaning of happiness. It invites the three gods: health, wealth, and prosperity and the dragons are a common symbol of luck and all other good omens.

Once my aunt and I walked to the side of the gate, we saw the temple dogs. These temple dogs look ferocious yet happy, they’re usually the color red. The reason for the color red being such a happy color is because a Chinese monster fears the color red and fireworks or loud noises. This Chinese mythical monster eats children and is the reason for Chinese New Year or the reason why red is such a lucky color. As far as I remember how this story was told, a grandmother approached the beast in the color red, the beast backed away in fear. She then had a cart of fireworks with her which she set a light, and from then the beast never came back to eat nor disturb the children. This is why noises are a good sign of a happy dinner, red is a lucky color, and why the temple dogs are of that color. Another thing of the temple dogs is their facial structure, they look monstrous so as to scare the evil away, yet they smile and seem festive so as to invite good luck. Another fact is that they always come in pairs, which may be the reason why my great grandfather always told me to have a buddy along. It’s safer to be with someone you can trust, just as how there will always be a pair of temple dogs trusting each other in their duties.

My aunt and I crossed the street because we saw this beautiful fountain. It may not be historical but it is definitely worth a picture. From the fountain, you can read what the gate says. The gate has the words on top written The Arch of Goodwill. See what I mean? The arch is a place that invites goodluck and prosperity especially the Ongpin commercial center is just behind it.

Afterwards, my aunt and I crossed back looking for the signs that point to Ongpin, and without knowing once again, we were actually at Ongpin. I was shocked with disbelief since I remembered Binondo to be bigger, and yes, it is actually bigger I was just exploring the main famous district. We both started to walk in the sweltering heat of Manila trying to find what else is there to see. My Aunt told me there is still some places to see, so she got her phone and asked the people around us on where we can find the place that held many red lanterns.

While walking in search of the red lanterns, we passed by a lot of rescue trucks such as the fire trucks and so on. My Aunt told me a little trivia about these rescue vehicles, they’re actually not a government service but a service made out of charity by many generous people. They’re also known for being the number one in rescue and so on, this goes to show that there are a lot of good people anywhere we go. People who sacrifice their safety and time in order to help and protect others, it was pretty amazing seeing real life vehicles of heroes. It feels like seeing the Bat mobile.

My Aunt and I continued to walk, our feet’s slowly start to ache. We asked around again of where we can find the place that had many red lanterns, the guard keeping watch of the shop on the sidewalk told us that it’s just straight ahead. Again, we were relieved that we were near…right? Along the way, my Aunt suddenly made an abrupt stop. She said “Buffy! Look, it’s the fried Siopao Shop! They said that it’s really good.” I tilted my head and thought “Fried Siopao? Well, it’s Chinese food and it always has a chance to be yummy so let’s buy.” Apparently, this shop can’t really be seen well since it’s small, especially its sign. I asked for the shop’s owner for two siopaos, they costed me forty-four pesos. I was happy that it’s pretty cheap and small. I took a bite out of it then my thoughts go “Woah, this is just good.”. You know that a bit of crispy layer outside of the bread and the softness of the bread in the inside? Yes, this siopao has it. Do you know the broth that can be felt when you bite it? Yeah, you can really taste it. In short, this siopao is just really good.

We still had the mission to go find the place of the many red lanterns, so we continued to walk. There was something that caught my eye though, and it was actually the combination of two religions: Buddhism and Catholicism. There was a nearby altar and it has a golden cross, but a reddish background and the people pray to it using incense and not the sign of the cross. It gave me the vibe of my home back in Antipolo wherein my Ama would pray to many gods, the half of Chinese gods and the Filipino Catholic gods. It really shows the cross-cultural impact of both the Spaniards and the Chinese to this country, even if it’s just along a small district. Being a Chinoy, I couldn’t resist the urge to go up and pray as a sign of respect. I went ahead, asked my Aunt to take my picture, and prayed. This is how you pray with the incense, you firstly get three or odd numbers of incense sticks and light them up. Once smoke starts to rise from the sticks and shorten, that is when you give a short prayer of thanks, luck, and blessing for all of us. As you pray, you have to shake the stick and bow atleast three times as well, afterwards you will place the stick in the ash pot and it has to be upright.

Afterwards, we continued our journey to the place of many red lanterns. With our aching feet, we eventually found it and went ‘Yippe’, in our minds. We started to take photos and all, then we saw this big Eng Bee Tin Hopia building by the side. It was a shop of commercialized Siopao, my Auntie asked if we would like to buy from there. I shook my head, remember my Ama giving me her story of Ongpin? Well, Eng Bee Tin wasn’t famous before. The famous hopia of her day were Salazaar and DEC. I smiled and told my Aunt “I think we should retrace my Ama’s foot steps when she was still a young maiden.” My Aunt nodded, it was a different way of exploring after all. We took our pic with the red lanterns and set off to find other tourist spots, potential tourist spots, and Salazaar.

Our feet were now really aching, but we continued to walk and somehow, we found our way to Binondo Church. It was hard to take a full picture of it which we had to cross the street in order to do so. It’s a grey old church with reds in its structure. I decided to take a picture of it from the outside only since I didn’t want to picture people praying since it was their privacy. I believe this is where most of the Chinese people are baptized to become Catholic.

Now, we were walking around in circles and I was really tired. It isn’t easy to explore a place in a lost manner. I always had a map or did research the night before since I’m an avid and usual traveler across many countries. This really was a bit different for me, but I hope that you will be able to cherish it. Well, me and my Aunt getting lost that is. We walked about again, and we found Salazaar while we were on the way. And from beyond that gate was actually mostly buildings and nothing historical. Well in terms of monuments that is. At least we were able to find the famous Salazzar that my Ama boasted about while we were there, I exhaled and in my mind: I went ‘Hopia!’. My Aunt and I bought some mongo hopia since that’s what my Ama recommended, and just as we were outside of the shop, I called her up. Because in all honesty, I wanted to know more about Ongpin, there has to be more to see. She picked her phone and we had this conversation, and she told me that that’s all there really was to see in the district. I sighed and went ‘Really? That’s it?’, Don’t get me wrong, I really remembered this place to be somehow bigger than before.

Then my Ama told me that this is where she used to have fun with her dad and siblings, that they would be here almost all the time to be happy. They would go watch movies in King’s Theater (now demolished), and then would go eat food in restaurants. This is where my Ama had her engagement party at the restaurant (demolished as well) and rode the kalesa or horse carriage (now prohibited due to animal cruelty). As I inhaled the smoke of Ongpin, I felt a bit sad for my Ama. That she has to witness all these changes in a place that involved her childhood. How things no longer really remain the same, and that change will always be constant. I realized that Ongpin may not look like it a big tourist spot compared to that of the Shinto Shrines of Japan, but it had one unique tourist spot: the stories of the people.

As we stood there, I pretty much gave up on exploring since we almost went everywhere and nearly all the places my Ama went to as a kid was demolished. Except for the Salazaar hopia establishment that was still standing tall. My Aunt and I walked and found Hap Chan, and indeed the saints that I prayed to earlier gave us luck because we found a restaurant easily. As in ordinary Chinese restaurants, there will be service tea, my type of tea. My Aunt and I sat, ordered some dumplings and Halo-Halo. I opened up my bag and started to eat the Hopia, feeling a bit sad that I couldn’t see the Chinatown she saw. Well, perhaps I can see it in her albums, but hey, they only exist now in pictures. So what are you all waiting for reading my travel post? Go there and take those pictures before progress comes in and Ongpin won’t really be the same again. Go, get lost, have some fun, and make some memories. I had a pretty sentimental time here in Ongpin, I hope you guys will have the best time there exploring the stories of the people, and walking on a sidewalk that itself is historical.

Well, here’s a picture of my Aunt and me in the aftermath. Yes, I was busy eating so please, I wasn’t smiling cause of the food. But surely enough, the look on my Aunt’s face goes to show how much we had fun together. Getting lost, asking around, me walking like a penguin, and yeah. Well, till next time. Gallery: https://cnfhumss12a.tumblr.com/tagged/Allyssa

[swipestream]

An Interview with Brian Niemeier, Part II

Brian Niemeier is a best-selling science fiction author and a John W. Campbell Award for Best New ‘Writer finalist. His second book, Souldancer, won the first ever Dragon Award for Best Horror Novel. He chose to pursue a writing career despite formal training in history and theology. His journey toward publication began at the behest of his long-suffering gaming group, who tactfully pointed out that he seemed to enjoy telling stories more than planning and adjudicating games.

Released this week, Brian’s newest book, The Ophian Rising, concludes his groundbreaking Soul Cycle series. Recently, I sat down with Brian to discuss The Ophian Rising, the rest of the Soul Cycle, and more. Part I of our interview focused on the Soul Cycle. Let’s now find out what is next.

*     *     *      *      *

Returning to how layered your storytelling is and the wide sweep of authors and works that you’ve mentioned as influences, what authors have been most influential to your storytelling?

Frank Herbert. I’ve mentioned before that I read and fell in love with Dune in high school. In fact, it saved my love of reading from being smothered.

Also, Neil Gaiman. I loved the Sandman in its original comic run, loved Good Omens that he did with Sir Terry Pratchett. Neverwhere was okay. I really haven’t liked a lot of his solo stuff since but Sandman was a big influence.

Kevin J. Anderson’s and Timothy Zahn’s Star Wars novels from the mid to late 90s. The Thrawn Trilogy, Jedi Academy, and Dark Saber.

During one of our previous interactions online, you mentioned the importance of reading to an author’s development. What are you currently reading right now?

Right now, I am going back to fill in my Larry Correia collection. I have my copy in paperback of Monster Hunter Vendetta right here and I’m about a third of the way through.

Have you read Son of the Black Sword yet?

Yes. I took an interesting approach to Larry’s work, which is kind of unintentional. I’ve read the first installment of each of his series. So I’ve read Monster Hunter International, Hard Magic, and Son of the Black Sword, so now I’m reading the second book in each one. Hopefully by the time I’m done with Spellbound, House of Assassins will be out.

You are also an editor. Can you describe some of the challenges compared to writing?

Sure. In terms of the challenges, editing is a whole different animal. When you’re just composing original prose, the field is wide open. You know that you have this huge blank canvas that you can put anything you want on there, so you’re really free of restrictions. You can always come back and revise it later.

Editing is a far more technical process. It differs from proofreading in that I mainly provide three services, which is line, copy, and content or development editing. I don’t do what your junior high English teacher does. I’m not going through with the red pen and pointing out, “Well, this is a comma splice. This is ‘it’s’ not ‘its’ so it should have an apostrophe. You want to use ‘whom’ instead of ‘who’ here because it’s in the object.” I mean, if I find those mistakes I will correct them, but mainly I am the last line of defense between the readers and an unsaleable book. I’m there to give suggestions that, if followed, will make your book professional and make it saleable.

The questions I ask myself are: Is this prose easy to read and understand? Is it readable? Do the mood, tone, and themes that the author wants to get across come through clearly? Is the plot advanced? Is every page, paragraph, and sentence doing at least two things? Like advancing character, advancing plot, conveying mood and tone, developing a theme? Is this book structured correctly? Do the pinches and turns and climaxes and, you know, the peaks and valleys come at dramatically appropriate moments to maximize the audience’s emotional impact? Those are just a few of the challenges and, of course, so is doing all of that without killing the author’s voice.

I’ve always got to be on guard to make sure that I’m not editing this book into a book that I would write. It’s got to still be the author’s book because the author is still the ultimate authority. The author can take all of my notes and say, “Go pound sand. I’m not going to take any of this advice.” It’s the author’s call. So I’ve got to make sure that at the end of the day, even if he does take all of my advice, it’s still his book, not mine.

Can you mention some of the books you’ve worked on?

Of the books that have hit the market, I edited Justin Knight’s second book. I’m looking through my list of stuff I’ve edited to make sure I get the title right. That one underwent a title change– that was Praxis.

I also edited a short story for JD Cowan, who you may be familiar with, called “In the Eyes of the Demon”, and, just recently released, Vigil by Russell Newquist.

What’s your next project?

Well. I’ve done my passion project. I’ve done the Soul Cycle, and in terms of indie authors, it was a success. It exceeded my expectations. I was hoping to break even on it and I’ve actually been able to earn a living through that, sometimes supplementing it with the editing. It’s been critically acclaimed, it has gotten some great reviews, so I’m pleased. Well done, good and faithful Soul Cycle. Thanks to all the readers who supported it.

Now that we’ve got the more complex, layered, I don’t to say inaccessible story, but there is a curve you’ve got a surmount to get into Nethereal. I think you’d agree it’s kind of a tough nut to crack. You have to figure out how to approach it. I chalk that up to, one, being the first book in a series that tells a rather complex story, and that’s just how the story is. I mean, I simplified that thing as much as I could. And two, Nethereal is the midpoint of the whole saga.

I do at some point plan to go back and do a four book prequel trilogy that explores the life and times of Almeth Elocine and his rise and fall. We see him in the prologue of Souldancer and he shows up one more time in that book. Then he shows up a couple times in The Secret Kings near the end. Really, as has been hinted, everything is really his fault. The Guild itself, the purge of the Gen and other non-human races, and their defeat. It’s kind of all on him, which will be made clear. Nethereal is very much the echo of what he did before he got to Kairos at the beginning of Souldancer. I think he’s my most compelling character. You’ll get to see a bit more of him in The Ophian Rising. He’ll actually get to see him take the field and do stuff this time, so there’s a little tidbit for you. We’re going to examine him, but that’s not my next immediate project

So again, we’ve done the heavy stuff, we’ve done the more literary stuff, and you guys have been good. It’s time to give you a treat:

The next project is giant robots.

Let’s have some fun. Let’s get in our giant mecha and let’s blow up some space colonies. Let’s shoot the big laser straight down the middle of the approaching squad of enemy mechs and just watch them blossom in sequence into Christmas lights.

Like Macross or Gundam?

Remember when Nick Cole and Jason Anspach first launched Galaxy’s Edge? Before they had the title, they just called it #StarWarsNotStarWars. This is #GundamNotGundam. I say Gundam all the way. I mean, I like what I’ve seen of Macross, but I’m a Gundam fanboy. I love it so and I’ve got to be really careful because Bandai is super uptight even more than Disney about protecting their IP. I will probably not be able to use #GundamNotGundam in marketing. I’ve already got five books outlined for it.

There has already has been a short story published in that universe It’s called “Anacyclosis”.

Is that the story hosted on Sci Phi Journal?

Correct. So anybody who wants a foretaste of what’s coming next can go check that out. There’s quite a bit of the lore of that series contained in that story. It’s a good jumping on point.

Earlier this summer, you released a novella, “The Hymn of the Pearl”. Could you tell us a bit about it?

Anyone who signs up for my newsletter–which you can do through my website Kairos at BrianNiemeier.com–gets a free copy of my first novella “The Hymn of the Pearl” for free. It’s been described as a sort of historical fiction but in a version of Late Antiquity that never was. There are two competing magic systems practiced by two competing orders of priests. It deals with the fate of humans and gods and how they can’t be created or destroyed, just moved around. There’s a redemption story. There’s an attempt to start a war. It’s good, clean, wholesome fun.

Is this a setup for a future project or is it self-contained?

Right now, its self-contained. I do have ideas where I might go with it. There’s enough demand for an entire series. I have had people who’ve read it saying how much they want a sequel, but just as many have told me, “No, no, this is perfect as it is. I wouldn’t want to see you cheapen this with a sequel. I wouldn’t want to see you water it down.”

Let’s just say that there might be a sequel to “The Hymn of the Pearl” someday, but it’s on the back burner. I’m going to focus on my mecha series next.

*     *     *      *      *

Thanks again to Brian Niemeier for his time and for writing the genre-bending Soul Cycle series.

You can get the final book of the award-winning Soul Cycle today, and complete your collection by picking up the other captivating books in this supernatural space adventure series.

An Interview with Brian Niemeier, Part II published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi

[shirokurodream-blog1]

Novel 2 Demo Translation.

The flags of the parade filled the streets, people cheering our names. “King Banzai! Brave Banzai!” The drummers played their tunes as the flag of Ramitonia was held into the sky. The enthusiasm of the people was grand despite the long line, all willing to see the brave man and the king. A golden, horse drawn cart slowly advances through the streets, two people waving their hands. One of them is the king of the country while the other is the brave soul who joined the king in the fight against evil.

The cheers grew louder but I started to notice that the tone of voice doesn’t seem to fit. They should do. We’ve just returned from achieving a historical accomplishment after all. “The brave!” The king turned to face them, her smile stretching to a massive grin. “Behold! These cheers bring hospitality! All is thanks to you!” I turned to look at her, my smile becoming nothing more than a straight line. “No, you have no need to thank me. I was only following the orders of the king.” “No! There is no need to say that! You have achieved a grant accomplishment! I could not have beaten the devil alone! You shall be praised!” The smile returned as I laughed. A month ago I was only doing apprentice work in the caste, since embarking on that journey I have become loved by the people as a brave man. After getting through a lot of encounters and partings on that quest the world has become noisy with praise.

At long last we had overthrown the cruel demon king after many hardships we had faced along the way. “You did impeccably well my dearest Brave! I daren’t put my nose in the air as even the king!” I laughed again. “Come now, Brave. Please respond to the citizens who honour you!” I had been warned that I had inspired the people. “Brave Banzai! Brave Banzai!” The enthusiasm in the people had risen as they cheered my name. The journey to defeat the devil was not easy, but the reward was gaining praise. I will wait for my future of living a peaceful life in Ramitonia. “King Banzai! Brave Banzai! King Banzai! Brave Banzai!” The cheers of the people felt like they were going to carry on forever, even though it is rather unlikely.

I suddenly started to panic, the cart I was in becoming more like a fairground. I looked to my left, then to my right. The people celebrating me not going anywhere. “I know nothing of a Dream or a murmur, I saw a scattered flower earlier… what I’m waiting for now is a safe reality…” I whispered it slightly to myself, noticing the king looking at me. “Wow! Sure sounds like I woke you up, Brave!” That moment was an unmistakable dream, also having a small part of reality. “The king…” there was a girl in front of me, unmistakably the king. “I am not a brave man. I could not deal with falling from that height! That extent… was too much to bear…” I stared up at her face.

There are clouds spreading in the blue. Of course! I had just come down from the sky. I am frightened by the fear of falling. I soon remember what had happened before. We were riding on the backs of legendary Garuda. With only a little more distance to travel before arriving at our destination, the king got kind of stuck. The feathers on the back of my Garuda were all fluffed and rolled. My Garuda, as it was drowsy, sneezed and I was thrown off the back. I plummeted towards my death due to gravity. “It’s messy! It’s messy! How many people in the world have heard the sounds that you make?!” “There is no ounce of omen in you! It is rather enviable if you gain valued experience..” It was all thanks to the king that I was revived in time. With her close by my side I am as good as immortal.

“However… he has weakened.” The third brave man party member was none other than Emile. Standing back and watching from a distance, his mouth agape. “Mr Garuda ran away in a hurry! I must’ve been bad if it caused such an accident!” I stared up at them, soon realising at I could not possibly fly with them. “What shall I do since I can not fly? Ah! I shall walk!” Roy looked at me and sighed. “The king has requested that we go to Yaya state.”

“It would have been amazing to return home… but I am not a person who will shoulder!” As I said that the king soon replied, “We must go! If we decide not to the name of the Brave Man line shall be hit!” I read the message, soon reading allowed. “The country of Yaya is under attack by the Satan army. Please, we need your aid! - Leader Mikiko.” The letter was received the same day that I arrived back in Ramitonia from my trip. We soon got back onto the Garuda and began the trip to the country of Yaya. “The Magus army could be attacking right now! We must hurry! It is your job to become a hero of relief!” It was Roy who’d twisted her head in affirmation. “No….” I turned to look at the king. “Is something wrong your majesty?”

“You must have been in a somewhere… the Magus army must have been in a state of dissolution. But what does it mean that the Magus army attacked?” Maou had arisen. It was like a joke but in fact, pure reality. We used to ride in the eyepiece of the enemy on our journey to the Devil King’s castle. Though it is not possible to say that Yaya State is being attacked by the Satan Army. It is certainly strange. “It is strange… but…” the king had balled her fists. “As strange as it is to investigate… it is the existence of the Brave Party! It may be possible to find where the Demon King lives!” “Kana maybe?” “If so.. then this might be a chance!” “What?” “A clue! A clue as to the princess who was scolded!” I let them talk for a while before striking my hand as if I had remembered something.

“Oh…. princess. That’s the reason why we were on this journey. We are journeying to find the princess who was stolen from us. The Demon King… he likes travelling. He journeyed to find the seven blackboards scattered throughout the world. He moved to find them all. At every new destination it seems the demons were treated like VIPs, sometimes even forgetting their existence as they served the Maou. The king must be heading fast over to Yaya country!” “That’s it dear Brave! To save the Yaya country, to find information on the whereabouts of the princess, to defeat the Demon King! Let’s go!!” I took a step forward. I may be the Brave but my main job is as a Soldier A in the castle. I will follow the kings order to the death. “Wow!” I took another step forward, suddenly feeling weight on my back. It was the king, she had jumped on my back. “What are you doing your majesty?!” “Well? I do not do anything else! I will not be haunted by the Brave Man on our journey to Yaya!” “So… you’re not walking?” “I will walk, Dear Brave!” The atmosphere had changed when the king joked.

“Hah…..” I carried on walking, carrying the king. Roy and Emile walking alongside me. After a while we stepped into the country of Yaya, confronted with a spectacle of surprise. “How…… what is this..?” In front of us stretched many tall stone buildings, citizens crowding the streets. It almost seemed like some sort of festival. People after people after people. I suddenly hear a loud voice. It seems the city is being attacked by the satan army. But this city is heavily watched.

At the worst I imagined that this city would be in ruins. Languages other than peace and prosperity are unlikely to appear in the scenery before us. “Let’s make sure you made a mistake in the road?” Everyone looked at the map that Emile had taken out of his bag, but it was undoubtedly the castle town of the Yaya country. “Where is the Magus army?” Roy’s question was everyone’s doubt, but nobody could answer. “Even so….” I was overwhelmed by the towering buildings, a pang of fear hit me. “The atmosphere is really different from Ramitonia. It is a trading country so it must be rich! Come now! It is my first time in this country! I only saw it through the city!” “Is that so?” “Yeah yeah! Yaya country was a nation of seclusion! It was mysterious!” “Well… do you have any plans for the future, your majesty?”

“Bare for the time being.. let’s go to leader Mimiko who called me, let’s hear the circumstances from him!” “What… about me..?” I was ignored. We walked for a while in the search for the leader, the King scanning the crowd. “Okay! So I’m really familiar with Mimiko’s face! Caricatures are always at the conference meetings!” The city did not seem to say that in that sense. I was trying to say that the leader would see me, though that might not be the case. However, there are not any other meetings to attest. We tried to walk towards the street that the King had directed us to. I noticed that at the time. “Hey look! There is something.” “Wow! What do you do?” “Cosplay?” “Shooting system? Anyway, it’s awkward.” We all soon noticed that there was a crowd of people around us. Everyone seemed to be laughing at us. “Wha? What are you guys?!”

I felt sick as I was laughed at, my stomach churning. “What? Is there some event here?” “Are you at the sweets stand?” The crowd of viewers had multiplied, everyone stared at us in a blink of an eye. “Who are these people?! Where did you come from?!” The king smiled and spoke proudly, “We are a Brave Line who have come to save this country!” I wanted to throw up as they laughed harder. “….. mail man?” I was completely and utterly embarrassed. My mouth went down in a frown and I looked around with eyes full of regret. “Aww! Puppy Brave man!” “Brave man!” “… Brave men..?”

There was no sign that the mocking was going to stop soon. “Oh! The king!” I was bathed in a frenzy of mockery, soon asking the lord for relief. “Say something! These guys are so rude!” It hit me, these are people of a different culture. They laugh at us for being different. If we return to Ramitonia we should laugh at ourselves this much. “If the king believes this is strange.. then it truely must be..” It seems that this must be a culture of decadence, god says it must be destroyed. “This city’s ignorance is a sin…” Roy and Emile clasped their respective gifts tightly. “Okay, leave it!” I stared at them and though, should I leave? “Welcome!” It was then that a voice rang out.

A woman came scrambling out of the crowd. “Are you the one Brave Man of Ramitonia?” The woman smiled and asked me. “Who are you? How about you? Are you?!” “….. yes..” I slightly whimpered as I tried to act brave. “I was late to say, but I am a tour guide with the role to guide you! I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner.. but please go to this place!” The woman walked ahead, swinging a small flag. I narrowed my eyes and stared at her back. An incomprehensible country that seems to have been in isolation forever, the city was different to what I had heard. My commonsense cause me to make an immediate denial. “Information guide… I wish I could follow you… but…” I was ignored. “I was thinking about making a pond in this town! A bright red pond!”

“Ah! Foolish widow! Let’s thank god for good luck!” The king did not seem to have a single stranger, Roy and Emile went about the crowd for women. “No…” I tried to reassure myself. “It is okay…” I have no choice but to follow.

“Thank you for the meal!” The king spoke with spirited words. We had all had a flattering dinner prepared. “It was so delicious!” The king seemed to be overjoyed. “Well I’m the gourmet king so I enjoy satisfactory meals! But…”

“Only the seasoning was tasteless! Only in Yaya country!” I felt a little pang of despair. “King? Do you need a cushion?” Two girls kept speaking to the king, their words mingling into one non understandable sound. “What did you do Mr. Hero?” They had noticed that I was twisting my head around a while ago. “Did you not eat the meals? Did you not taste?” It was a certainty light taste. “That’s not it.. the food was delicious… but.. it was.. delicious.. but….” I looked around the dining room once more, it was empty except for us. The decor was luscious and rich looking. “Was it good?” “What’s wrong..? It’s funny you think that.l. It’s just not… a canteen… like I’m used to…” Everything that was served looked like it took a lifetime to make. Well it did for me, maybe because I’m nothing more than a common folk.