#i feel like it conveys depth and shape a little better

[wereh0gz]

It's what they call "you."

[tayraedoll]

Old Men Know All the Tricks

Hello! Here is part two of Old Man and this is a spicy tamale. MDNI.

Part 1 Part 3

Word count: 3,192

TW: P in V intercourse, swearing, biting, blood, mating cycles, pet names, cunnilingus, scent kink, cream pie, unprotected sex, breeding kink, heat and rut, chasing kink, scent marking.

He was trying to kill you, you were sure of it.

You have been at this for hours, it should be impossible for any being to have this kind of stamina. Sweat ran down your back, face red with exertion. Your legs shook, knees ready to buckle at any given moment.

"You are doing so well.", he says to you. "Just a little longer."

You really wish you could snap a witty retort back at him; but your ability to speak left you long ago. All you could do was keep gasping for air. Even if you could physically speak, your brain was so muddled you wouldn't be able to form the words to begin with. You could not keep this up much longer, you need a break- even just a brief reprieve just to catch your breath. You felt like you were about to faint.

"Aaaand time!", Angel shouts and you collapse onto the grass on your back heaving for air. "Nothin' betta than a 10-mile run eh toots?"

All you could do was raise a hand to flip him off, earning a chuckle from the spider. You had been doing research since you and Alastor started dating- turns out he was not kidding about the mating season or the 72-hour sex marathon. So you took his advice and started going on runs and doing yoga with Angel Dust three times a week. He did this to keep in shape for his job, this workout routine made his job a lot easier when Val would be a dick (pun intended) and force him to work a double shift. You asked to join him under the guise of wanting to increase your stamina for Alastor's lunatic dancing; no way were you going to talk to Angel Dust about cervid mating habits.

Dating Alastor was quite amazing, the man never did anything half-assed. You got flowers at least once per week, candlelit dinners in his bayou, gifts like the ruby you currently had on your middle finger, and the status that just naturally came with being associated with The Radio Demon. But the best part was his words of affirmation, he would speak pure poetry into your ear in peaceful moments alone. You had not gotten to the "I love you's" yet but he conveyed the depth of his feelings with just his honey-sweet words. His charisma alone left you breathless.

The only dark cloud in your dreamland romance was physical affection. Alastor still was not a fan of being touched, even by you, though he tolerated your touch much better than others. The extent of your physical relationship consisted of him holding your hand or resting his hand on your knee when in private, a swift peck on the cheek or lips, or an arm around your waist. You didn't necessarily mind, you were more than happy to move at his pace, but it did make you wonder what would happen come mating season.

That thought leads you back to the present. Mating season will begin any time now. It was fall, the days were shorter and the nights were colder even in Hell. Which is why you subjected yourself to the torture you just endured with Angel.

"I still can't believe yer doin' all dis just to dance with Smiles."

"You've seen the man dance, he's a hazard on the dance floor if you can't keep up.", you reply as you sit up, heart rate finally returning to normal.

"Yea, I remember the day after yer first date wit 'im. If I didn't know any betta I woulda thought you was fuckin' all night wit' the way you was walking sideways.", he wiggled his brows suggestively.

You coughed to hide the blush blossoming across your cheeks. The day after Alastor first took you dancing was a nightmare you wished you could forget; between Angel's sexual innuendos, Charlie's overbearing concern, and Alastor's cocky smirks and false atonement for making you over-exert yourself you reached the end of your patience.

"Any ground made with Husk?", you ask to change the subject. Bringing up the resident feline was a sure-fire way to distract Angel from whatever you did not want to talk about. The poor guy was down bad, but so was Husk- the tomcat just did not realize it yet.

You spent several extra minutes in the shower that night, letting the hot water relax your sore muscles. Alastor had some Overlord business to attend to so you would not be joining him in his room tonight. You tried not to think about what that means, if Alastor wasn't with you then he was with someone else and that someone else most certainly was not finding the deer demon's company as pleasing as you did.

As you prepared for bed you noticed that your chest was a bit flushed and you were feeling a little feverish. You swallowed a couple of ibuprofen- better to just nip that in the bud if you could help it. Probably got sick on that stupid run with Angel earlier, hopefully you would wake up right as rain.

Unfortunately, you did not wake up right as rain. In fact, you were worse; the fever spiked and you were sweating profusely. A fog clouded your mind making it difficult to think straight. But you felt energized, absolutely wired actually. Your senses were working in overdrive picking up every smell and sound and you could practically taste the air around you. You stumbled over to the door of your bedroom, you'd have to let Charlie know you weren't feeling well so she could excuse you from her redemption exercises.

You made it only halfway down the hall when a sharp chill ran up your spine. Before you could turn around you found yourself in a swamp. No- you found yourself in Alastor's bayou to be exact. There was a slight breeze and the stars twinkled overhead, you always found it strange that Alastor kept the bayou under the veil of night, never letting it see the sun. Your sensitive ears picked up the crickets and frogs singing all around. You weren't exactly sure where you were, you could not see the the actual room dimension; it was like you just appeared in the middle of the bayou. So you began to walk, hoping you would find the resident of the room eventually.

You only got a few minutes into your walk when suddenly everything went still. The crickets and frogs stopped mid-song, even the breeze seemed to hold its breath. You froze alongside everything, senses straining to pick up any indication as to what caused the sudden change in atmosphere. Alarm bells went off and your tail instinctively started to lift in a warning display. Your breathing came in shallow little pants as your eyes darted all around you.

Then, a voice- a voice that filled you with equal parts warm comfort and icy dread at the moment.

"Well, well, what do we have here hmm? And where do you think you were off to my dear? Don't you know it's dangerous to be alone in the woods? Especially for little does like you."

"Alastor-", you spin to face him and stop dead in your tracks. His antlers hung over his head like a grand chandelier, his pupils blown wide, and his ever-present smile looked absolutely sinister. "I-I am not feeling well. I am not sure what is wrong."

He stalked towards you slowly, like a wolf cornering a lamb. "Oh you poor, naive, little fawn. You haven't figured it out yet have you? You're in heat my dear, the mating season has begun." His voiced dropped to a sinister growl at the last sentence. Your eyes widened as you began to back away from his advance, a reaction he took much satisfaction in based on the sadistic chuckle he responded with. Your back hit a tree, there was no where else to go and he quickly closed the distance between you two. As he loomed over you he took a deep breath and his whole body shuddered violently. He closed his eyes and growled menacingly.

"W-what do I do?", you asked, this was not going how you imagined it- no candles, no soft sheets, no sweet declaration of love. You were utterly lost and completely at his mercy.

He hummed, then slowly opened his eyes and bent down so you were at eye level. "Run.", his voice was a baritone whisper.

Like a bat out of-- well- here-- you took off. You didn't know or care what direction you were going in, you just needed to get the fuck away. Maniacal laughter which was more like screeching static sounded behind you but you didn't dare look back. You ran as fast as your legs would carry you, thank Satan for those dreadful runs Angel made you do. When you could no longer hear the laughter behind you, you chanced a look back. Nothing- just the bayou surrounded you. You were just about to breath a sigh of relief when suddenly strong arms wrapped around you from the front and you barreled into a sturdy body, letting out a terrified shriek.

"Considerable effort Darling but I think we should preserve your strength for the main event don't you agree? I just couldn't let you get too far ahead...especially when you smell so delectable.", he growled out as he buried his nose in your hair, his muscles pulsing with the effort not to immediately jump on you. He grabbed your jaw in one hand, keeping your body tightly bound with the other, and lifted your face to meet his. He looked hungry-no, he looked absolutely famished. Like a man who hasn’t eaten for days who happened upon a cornucopia of his favorite dishes. You closed your eyes tightly, prepared to be eaten alive.

Instead of his razor-edged teeth digging into you as you expected, he began to gently rub his face against you. From your chest to your ears he spread his scent all over your skin, paying careful attention to your throat and cheeks. When you caught his scent all the adrenaline instantly drained from your body. He smelled of the bayou soil, bourbon, and woodsmoke but it was more than just the physical notes of his scent, you had a powerful psychological reaction to it as well. It was as if he was speaking right to your mind using his smell, and he was saying ‘trust me, your safe, I’m going to take care of you’. The fog returned to your mind worse than before, you were now consumed wholly by thoughts of the buck that held you. Your entire body went slack, a rag doll in his arms to submit to his whims.

Satisfied with your entranced state he shadowed you away, placing you gently on his bed on your back. Your head lazily lolled to the side, barely registering the food and water on a table nearby. The demon quickly regained your attention when he started kissing you softly. You melted into the sheets, eagerly taking all the affection the buck would bestow upon you.

Ever so gently, like he was afraid of breaking you out of your trance, he undressed you. Once he had you completely bare before him he took a moment to admire his gorgeous, little doe. “Si beau, ma biche.” He ran his hands up your body, starting at your hips and stopping to cup your breasts. His touch was icy fire, so warm on your skin but leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your arched your back, pushing your breasts into his hands, whimpering softly when his thumbs tweaked your nipples. His hands ran south, tantalizingly dragging his claws along your skin on the way down.

The moment his fingers touched your clit it was like lightning struck you, a wanton moan ripping out your throat. He leaned up to your head once more, his thumb applying pressure on your bundle of nerves. “Be mine. I want you mind, body, and soul. I need you to remain by my side for eternity Darling. I understand that this may be an outdated request, but wherever I go, I need you to follow. In return for your devotion, I promise to protect and love you with everything I am. Every part of me will belong to you, as you belong to me. Please Darling, say we have a deal.”

For a moment, just a split second, alarm bells warned you of making a soul deal but they were quickly overshadowed by the fog whispering ‘trust me’. You felt too good, too euphoric, and you desperately needed him. “It’s a deal Alastor, I’ll be yours.”

“Delightful!”, he plunged one long digit into you causing you to gasp out. You were so wet already that he added a second finger almost immediately, his thumb circling your clit in roughly. Green light flashed and you felt your soul tether to him, like an invisible string tied around your heart and attached it to his. You came despicably fast, if the fog in your mind wasn’t so thick you’d have been embarrassed. Your body convulsed in on itself with the force of your abdominal muscles locking, a breathless whine leaving your lips.

Before you could recover you found yourself flipped onto your belly, Alastor nibbling on an ear as he raked his claws down your back. You felt the warmth of bare skin on your shoulders and realized he rid himself of his own clothing. “You taste positively sinful My Doe. Mind if I make have a better taste?”. Without further warning he flattened his tongue to the base of your tail and licked up the entire length of your spine eliciting a whole-body shudder from you, the action nearly made you cum again. He then went back down to your lower back, where he started peppering kisses on each of your spots while dragging his tongue between them. His game of connect-the-dots had you squirming underneath him, rubbing your thighs together as slick pooled at your entrance.

When the buck made it back up to your shoulders he paused, “Forgive me, My Dear”, and sank his teeth into your shoulder making you cry out, his palms holding you down by the shoulder blades. He lapped up the blood, soothing the pain. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

His proximity washed a new wave of his scent over you, relaxing you back into your trance as he lined himself up and sank into you. One hand fisted into your hair as the other held his weight above your shoulder. Al started with long, slow thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of his cock as it dragged through your walls. He slowly gained speed, leaving you a blubbering mess beneath him. His hand in your hair kept you pinned to the mattress, completely immobilized as his cock bullied your cervix, the coil in your stomach pulling tight. He ducked down suddenly and licked another stripe up your spine, ending at the bite on your shoulder which sent you over the edge. Your core squeezing him like a vice brought him over the edge with you and he delivered his first load of seed.

As soon as Alastor pulls out you roll onto your side, letting out a contented sigh. Your head was still foggy, but you felt sated for now. You get your first glimpse of your mate in all his naked glory; his taupe-colored body was covered in lean muscle, the black on his arms ended at his elbows and they were covered in scars. You felt the urge to return the game of connect-the-dots, but could not get your body to move presently. Your eyes trail lower and fixate on his glorious cock, girthy with a thick vein running up the underside and it was STILL.ROCK.HARD. The sight of him makes your mouth water, you let out a needy, pathetic whimper.

Alastor is on top of you again in a flash, his hips wedging against yours while his legs spread yours wide to give him access. He tenderly cradles your head in his hands as he kisses up your throat and lightly kisses the spots on your cheeks. "Don't worry Darling...we are only just getting started." And he plunges back inside you.

Hour 6- Sweat covers every inch of your body, you've lost count of how many times you've cum. Your hands fist in Alastor's hair as he sucks on your clit, his nails digging into your thighs leaving rivulets of blood on your skin. All you can do is lay there and take what he gives you, your thoughts completely incoherent and cock-drunk.

Hour 18- You finally get a brief break. Al hand feeds you fruits, nuts, and jerky of his own making. You do not have the energy to question what kind of meat the jerky is made from, at this moment you really could not care less. "You need to keep your strength up Sha, we are not nearly finished yet.", he coos at you as he held a bottle of water to your lips encouraging you to re-hydrate.

Hour 36- Your hands are holding onto the headboard like a lifeline, your knuckles turning white and arms trembling with the effort to keep upright as you get railed from behind. Alastor sucks on your neck and whispers "You are doing so well. We are almost there, just a bit longer Little Doe." You get a vague memory, a little Deja-Vu moment of why that should be comical to you, but your next orgasm thoroughly wipes the thought from your mind.

Hour 72- You are sure you are on the doorstep of your double-death. Every limb and joint aches, your cunt is feeling raw, your voice long gone from your cries of pleasure. You have no energy left, quite frankly you have no idea how the demon buck you are sitting on has the energy to bounce you up and down his shaft. The bed around you is covered in blood and the combined releases of Alastor and yourself, you do not know if you should be embarrassed or impressed. The man underneath you hisses as his cock twitches inside you, letting him know he is close. His thumb picks up its pace on your abused clit, with a strangled sob you come for what feels like the hundredth time since you started, tears flowing endlessly down your face. Using the last of his energy Alastor lift his hips up, using gravity to impale you as far down his shaft as he can get you before spending himself one final time inside you. You both collapse to the side, the only sounds filling the room being your erratic breaths struggling to return to normal. You feel his arms wrap around you as he pulls you into his chest. For once, he does not speak, there is no reason to. All the two of you need is the closeness and comfort of each other's embrace. You snuggle into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep as you finally get to rest.

Thanks for reading! Planning on doing a part 3 that is all about the aftercare. Please let me know what you think!

@stattikdemon

@vxllys

@shealizxx

[ruija]

Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?

Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.

As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.

The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.

Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.

However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.

As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.

So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.

Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.

However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.

Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.

If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!

Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.

Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.

Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.

So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.

Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!

Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Can we have a deeper analysis in Sabo's shape language study please? It's amazing how you make him give different vibes with just his hair and I like to understand how does that work.

Oh. I'm SO glad you asked.

(The Post In Question)

Okay so this isnt the first post ive made about shape language,

Here are the others:

ASL Shapes Strawhats Shapes

i'm just gonna copy and paste the definition i have for shape language from those posts here so i dont have to write it all again.

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

That's base level but here's more in depth description of each design for ya:

this one is up first!

You may notice how in this design, his hair isnt in large clumps like the others are. His hair falls delicately and waves gently with little to no hard angles.

In this design, i was trying to convey the idea of "he wasnt born to fight, but he's molded himself into someone who will." I tried to depict that by making his hair all light and feathery, his facial features soft and rounded, but also showing how he's modified his body in a pointy and aggressive way.

I didn't want to only go hard edges with the piercings though because much like he's strayed from his mold of being delicate, he's also strayed from his mold of being a cruel noble. so some of his piercings are rings, AKA: Circles.

You may also notice the different in how I've drawn the collars of these guys. the collar of this Babo's black coat falls softly, and its' arc is rounded. The shoulders don't have any padding and it rounds at the corner.

This Man Is Round.

Next up is this Freak

This is supposed to be Triangle Him.

His hair is in larger, hard angled clumps. Indicating that he probably cut his hair himself. He did... greattt. I already headcannon him as someone who cuts his own hair, but i dont think this one ever gets any better at it.

The hard angles on his teeth, his scar, his jaw, his collar, that line i forgot to erase on the left, and his coat all give indication that this guy is Dangerous and you probably shouldnt mess with him.

I didn't have any real deeper meaning to this version, I just wanted to make him look as opposing as I could. this guy is "what you see is pretty much what you get."

Even though he doesn't have a lot of deeper meaning, I think this one is my favorite of the designs. I really love these colors on him and his hair was really fun to draw. I think I wanna draw him again at some point. I think this version of him would be very funny paired with Koala. I'm chuckling thinking about it:

Koala and her Armed and On Fire kindergartener

And lastly this guy

Sabo's base design is very rectangle coded. From his Hat, to his face shape, to his coat. So this version was very easy to make as I didn't actually need to change that much!

I think maybe I could've made his design a little more complex? But also I think there is a beauty in simplicity for this one. He looks straightforward, reliable, and kind. He seems like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, not because he likes doing it, but because he does what he must for the greater good.

I really love his hazel eyes, too. I think it brings a nice warmth to his design that is really nice.

Additional comments:

I love talking about this stuff. I love designing. I love art. I love drawing so much it's so fun

Everytime I get to sit down and make some funky doodles my brain feels like 🧠🤸🧘���🧚🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🧚💃💃💃💃💃💃

If you got this far thanks for reading :)

I usually have a description for my designs and my choices and stuff and I forgot to do one for this post, it makes me happy to see that it was missed :)

[vaguely-concerned]

to begin with I think previous relationship trauma (max got real Weird and unpleasant about rye showing off too much with his magic in ways that reminded him that his prized pet mortalitasi actually wielded vast power of his own outside of what max could confer upon him through his name and money) and uh magical masking for lack of a better term (having long since realized how nevarran magic is viewed by outsiders and knowing he already has enough of the mannerisms of an extremely weirdly socialized crypt baby that he needs another social weak spot like a hole in the head) would make rye avoid doing necromancy specifically in front of lucanis for a long time whenever he could help it, especially as lucanis is quite vocally dubious about necromancy and the necropolis itself initially.

(rye watching lucanis like a hawk as he drags him along into the depths of the necropolis and to hezenkoss’ party to try to determine if this is going to be the sticking point and — with the muscle memory of trauma that has a lot less to do with lucanis in actuality and a lot more to do with rye’s unconscious dialogue with his own history — how he can maybe shape himself into something more acceptable, if so. like… DON'T BE WEIRD!! HE IS GOING TO THINK YOU'RE WEIRD AND LOSE INTEREST FOREIGNERS CAN BE WEIRD THAT WAY!!! THE SKULLS COULD BE A DEAL BREAKER WE MUST CAREFULLY DETERMINE THE LAY OF THE LAND BEFORE WE GO THERE!!! SOME TASTEFUL SUMMONING OKAY, HE’S KIND OF INURED TO SPIRITS BY NOW SURELY, BUT HOLD THE BONES UNTIL WE KNOW FOR SURE. the ‘I can deny whole parts of myself forever if it means that you will stay’ gambit (do NOT try this at home it’s an understandable siren song to be drawn towards when previously wounded but it does not in fact tend to end well this has been a PSA))

by the end of the game rye knows with his brain that lucanis would not in fact drop him like a hot coal over the bones, but what your brain thinks it knows and what your heart thinks it knows… not always the same thing, huh. Even with the proven knowledge that lucanis loves him to the god killing end of the world stage and beyond, I think some deeply buried raw part of rye would still hold on to this remembered flinch and do its best to not be known. 

The masking translates into other things than magic/necromancy as well — while Rye does feel genuinely in over his head as to the task before him in the Veilguard story (it’d be kind of wild to have any other reaction, considering lol), he habitually performs a level of haplessness that’s not truthful too, for a multitude of reasons — to make himself seem unthreatening, to convey the ‘hey I’m just a little guy (please don’t metaphorically and emotionally hit me I’m literally just a little guy max)…🥺’, to hide and sheathe the sharper edges in and not let on that he a) is actually pretty clever in a way the societies of thedas might not prefer for an an elf, even one who’s a watcher, to be seen to be and b) can be a vindictive bastard once roused… it can be an interpersonal swiss army knife to just give the gentle impression that you have no fucking idea what’s going on at all times fhdsakj. Varric didn’t buy it for even five milliseconds, but that’s part of what made Varric what he was to Rook, most people are quite willing to go along with that projected image for their own comfort (make yourself seem harmless and easy to dismiss and you will be left alone to do your own thing in the background uninterrupted quite a lot of the time hashtag rye ingellvar life hack. Wait. why am i so lonely I could cry I’ve only cut off all avenues of genuine expression in myself. This is surely completely unrelated) or because it occasionally awakens a protective impulse in people (davrin goes there sometimes), or whatever. the little black dress of social navigation that is being chronically underestimated.

rye’s relationship to his necromancy is also borderline, vulnerably religious and deeply complex in many ways independently of any of this, especially after his (perceived) exile from the necropolis. He does break the ol' dance macabre out on a couple of notable occasions over the course of the game — occasionally when he’s hanging out with emmrich, and when the Formless One tries to pull its bullshit in rye’s own damn childhood home living room (the GALL!!!). within the context of the necropolis itself he’s willing to let lucanis witness his Watcher Persona (‘don’t worry that’s my jobsona you won’t have to deal with that outside this house of many mansions if you don’t want to! :) ’). But I feel like that fearful ‘if I never put it to the test I’ll never have to find out if that is where the good thing breaks bad and everything will be safe, I’ll never have to know’ impulse is also a big part of it. Again, a largely a subconscious one, of course, I don’t think he would be aware of this consciously, but it’s a system of thinking that’s always active beneath.) 

And furthermore I think lucanis would eventually pick up on this — through such nefarious tactics as ‘actually paying attention’ and ‘genuinely wanting to deeply know rook as a person’ (*rye voice hissed out in distress while clearly sweating nervously*: ah shit… I planned for every eventuality but this one… fuck’).  and once lucanis understood why (at least to the extent that it involves ‘rook anxiously cutting himself into pieces trying to render himself palatable (to me???!! :( )’) it would probably kind of break his heart. and also make him carefully cradle rook’s face between his palms and go 'hey. hey please look at me? do you really think cutting off a whole part of yourself to make me comfortable is what I want. Have I done and said something that made you feel that way, and how can I avoid ever doing that again. do you think I love you so cowardly' (his face is doing the thing it does in the coffee scene with harding through this whole thing, needless to say. rye is toast immediately it is so over for him he’s done for pray for him), and caught completely off guard rye is like '🥺...nohoho😭😭😭' and promptly sobs into lucanis' shoulder for like half an hour while lucanis kisses his hair and rocks them back and forth (and spite is like ‘???!!?! well lucanis seems to be handling it but this is like advanced mortal shit I’m not sure I quite get this one yet’). 

Justttt… Them talking about it finally once Rye is capable of talking again and Lucanis bemusedly cradling rook’s hands in his and venturing ‘...did you think I somehow missed all the fifteen foot tall corpse statues before I married you or…?’ (‘HAH! well when you put it like that my clever ruse does lose some of its integrity you’re right’.) You know one of those precious conversations where someone is able to pick through the strange and twisted overgrown paths in your brain with you to figure out why the hell you do this thing you tend to do and maybe clear some new less troublesome paths in the process, in a way that feels safe and doesn’t make your neurons shut the whole show down nothing to see here please come back later? Yeah, it’s one of those, they get pretty good at those which is good since both of them have some uuuuh Issues to get through.

One of Lucanis’ most endearing qualities to me (they are many and diverse) is the way he seems to really enjoy listening to people he cares about talking about things they’re interested in, even if his own investment in the subject is negligible at the outset. (see him working intrepidly to understand the basic deal with necromancy and finding satisfaction in understanding the necropolis’ financial role in nevarra (lmao I love you lucanis) in emmrich banters, or quickly warming to and engaging with taash’ descriptions of how to fight dragons despite ‘*sigh of deep sincere exasperation* having had enough of dragons’.) so considering how much he canonically enjoys just listening to romanced rook speak about literally whatever and his own unique position in regards to spirit matters (and of course the helpful fact that he is completely unbothered by dead bodies as a baseline), I feel like there’s every chance that he’d actually get quite invested once rye opened up and talked more about it with him unfiltered. Being so ravenous for and open to the corners of your partner’s soul you don’t quite understand or even necessarily have instinctive ‘liking’ for on first brush but growing to understand and love them over time because it is all them (and also getting tricked into liking yourself a bit more by being seen through their eyes oh no I knew there was a catch) feels like a very central thing in their relationship. Permission to be everything you are including all the unlikeable annoying unsettling or difficult things you hide from other people not only granted, I am begging you on my knees for it share it all with me my hunger for you is endless sort of thing. The mutual ‘Please be your full weird self with me I want to study you for the rest of my life’ going on. Unspeakable. 

They both have had to exile their anger so far away from them to in their upbringings (Lucanis has had to navigate Caterina all his life, and Rye was raised to understand that raging, raging against the dying of the light is ultimately futile, young watcher, can you not skip this particular developmental stage for your own good and our convenience we've got stuff to do these corpses aren't going to bury themselves (it would be so gauche to ask them to)), I think having a space to safely explore being angry and sharp and unpalatable together is like. Revelatory there. Lucanis is the first (perhaps only) person Rook actually confides in about his deepest beliefs and duties as a Watcher eventually, and like… sex is not nothing, to be sure, I think they have some very good tender life-affirming AND room to express some rarely seen corners of the soul stuff going on that way… but THAT conversation is the final frontier of intimacy for him honestly. Once that is open he’s let himself be seen in life and death and there’s no fear left at all. 

I feel like Lucanis does make his own peace with the Necropolis in the end aside from just accepting it as an important part of Rook’s life in the way that like… you know, when you’re an abomination with all the cultural baggage that comes along with it in most andrastian nations, there must be a comfort in knowing there’s a place you can go where you are not going to be even the fiftieth weirdest thing in any given room at any given time. He wouldn’t want to stay there all the time, but it’s nice to have those normality checks sometimes. Reassuring, in a way, even with all the grinning skulls bouncing around.    

Annnd as a final note (why am I like this)... a little funny and weirdly moving that I imagine Lucanis would in fact have the exact opposite reaction from Max’ to seeing Rook be ruthlessly unapologetically competent (that is, not only entirely unthreatened but also incredibly underlyingly enduringly horny). Rook in battle already makes him resort to effusiveness otherwise reserved for descriptions of coffee, we could be in for some incredible scenes here in a post-game scenario (I’m imagining him with his eyes full of stars, grabbing davrin by the lapels and shaking him a little in sheer overwhelmed emotion as he’s like “have you ever seen rook fight???? mierda it’s like watching light moving over water” *davrin patting him on the shoulder and covertly rolling his eyes like ‘yeah yeah buddy’ as rook falls upon the enemy like a wolf upon the fold in the background*). 

[elviraaxen]

Hi hello I ummmm I wanted to tell you that 1) your art is so lovely and flowy and shaped and nice and it’s very inspiring. Sometimes seeing really good art is discouraging because it’s like, “man, how will I EVER get there??” But your art is very!! Um! It makes me wanna draw! It feels like I can look at it and learn to get better! Please know that by simply existing, your art is encouraging me and teaching me things. 2) The cuddle pile picture struck a chord with me and really inspired me! I usually kind of… overblend my shading, and I’ve wanted to try hard shadows for a long time but just never exactly… got to it or really understood how to? But!! Seeing that drawing (before you colored it) really moved something in me and so I tried replicating what you did and!! It’s not nearly as nice or neat and it doesn’t convey depth AS well, but it turned out surprisingly well!!! The way you used such a bright cyan as the shadows made me do some thinking about color, and that helped a lot too!

I guess there’s not much point in saying all this… I just wanted to say thank you. For drawing and for existing! I am personally benefiting from the way you share your existence, because I’m learning from you, and… I think maybe that’s something worth telling someone ? I hope that doesn’t sound creepy… It isn’t intended to overstep anything, and I swear it’s not a weird parasocial thing. Agh, I apologize if it sounds weird...

Um! In any case, I hope you have a good day/night!

That was very very sweet anon! A little bit backhanded but very sweet nonetheless 😂 glad I could be a source of inspiration and motivation!!

[webnovel-deluxe]

Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 14

- Well, I just had it because it looked good. And he's a celebrity, so I've never met him.

- Really?

-His portrait also roams the streets of Horun district! It's similar to that.

-.....

-You are the most handsome! Seeing you, that guy is a complete seafood man.

- … Yes?

-oh, of course!

- Better than Locke Visconti?

- That's your previous life! Even their faces and voices all look the same, what do they compare?

-different! Here, the eyes and the shape of the lips are better than him.

- I don't know... .

Isidor was about to sting again, so I quickly reached out with his hair to comfort him.

-Ugh. You're like a big dog that doesn't listen.

- You've been stroking my hair while thinking like this.

Still, as if feeling better, he rests his head in my hands. It seemed possible that the souls could come into contact with each other, but it didn't feel like touching the hair, so it was a little awkward.

- Go back and do it.

He seemed to wag his tail like a puppy.

-Your past life was like a ferocious cat. that's interesting.

-It was on the side of the dog, but I was not honest. I regretted it until I died. I couldn't let go of my pride and spit out words that didn't make sense to me. It was a past life filled with regret and longing.

-.....

Now with the conversation it became clear.

As Isidor was dragged into this space, like me, he remembered everything that happened in his previous life.

But just as I was Deborah Seymour and not Nailla, Isidor had not changed otherwise.

-By the way, isn't it blasphemy to do this in a temple?

- Even though the princess is a saint, I can make a rule that allows skinship at this time.

-I don't think I will come to the temple in the future, but why do I have to fight with the Pope and do good things for others... .

-Is that good?

-Look at what's in your favor!

The two of us had a refreshing conversation, holding hands and crossing the campus where cherry blossoms fell like snow.

-The romance of a campus couple is now being realized.

- campus?

- It has a similar meaning to the academy.

-Well. I should have been reborn twice... .

He was truly sorry.

-I just imagined, I think Sir might have lived well here as well. He must have been a really popular senior.

- The princess had a good life too. I grew up beautifully amongst a family that was quarrelsome and grumpy.

As if he had seen the soybean family in his previous life, sadness and fondness rang out from the souls he touched. Full understanding and sympathy were transferred intact.

-and… Thank you so much for persevering in the deep darkness.

It also conveys the sad and painful feelings of watching my soul wandering in the abyss for a long time due to the curse of the devil.

'Is it on purpose? '

Perhaps the thought body wanted to call Isidore here rather than me.

He told me it didn't matter if I was a demon or a demon grandpa, but today I felt understood by him, down to the depths of darkness at the bottom of my soul.

- Isidor, don't be too sad. Actually, I don't really remember what it was like in the abyss, but I'm sure I was fine. I must have been looking forward to seeing you again.

Even when the cold wave came, I knew that flowers would bloom someday. Because he taught me.

- You have flirted with flowers in the past.

- Because you like flowers.

Isidor put the folded lavender in my hand.

-!

Eventually, the paper slowly turned into a circle of light and began to spread, and after a while the world turned white as if in heaven.

- Deborah... .

At that moment, the thoughtful body, who had been quiet the whole time, called me in a very serious voice.

-oh?

- Always keep that in mind. That if there is light, there is shadow.

-After all, it seems that something suspicious has flowed into the temple.

To Isidor's conjecture, the thought body gave a rather abstract answer instead of denying it.

-… Even if you light many candles with one candle, the light of the first candle does not fade.

-.....

- Eternal light will be with you.

After the guy's meaningful remarks, the intense light that surrounded him began to fade, and the presence of the thought body was clearly blurred.

-do not be like this.

I caught him all in a hurry.

- Are you going to disappear like this? Isn't it?

-I am the wish you made. A long-awaited wish has come true, and there is no reason to exist anymore.

Thought body's voice got smaller and smaller, and I screamed louder and louder.

- Still, I don't want to say goodbye like this. Even you don't even have a name yet!

- Build it later.

-...!

- Deborah, actually I wanted to eat a big marshmallow someday. Hot chocolate too.

-.....

-And on a snowy day, I'll make a big snowman... So… .

Thought's voice became less and less audible, it was as if he heard a soft whisper that for some reason we would meet again soon.

And this is a later story, my second child with Isidor enjoyed making a snowman in the winter and eating marshmallows while sipping warm chocolate.

4. What happened in the temple instead (2)

“..Ugh!”

When the white light faded and I opened my eyes, as if nothing had happened, I was standing in front of the sanctuary inside the temple. Holding the white rosary, the gray energy had disappeared.

… However, there were no more intense beatings and reverberations of the soul that I felt whenever I saw an object. The thought body is really trembling.

'really… Will I ever see that guy again?'

“Princess! What's going on!?”

“Lady?”

There was no time to be immersed in regret, and the surroundings became noisy as if surprised by my sudden action.

Judging by the other people standing over the gates of the sanctuary and wandering around, it seems that the long time spent with thought body was really fleeting here.

I glanced at Isidor, who was clutching my wrist to prevent my soul from being sucked in.

As soon as he let go of his wrist, I quickly slipped the rosary into my dress pocket, hid it, and coughed for nothing.

As he approached the pope with a very gloomy expression on his face, he became serious at the same time.

“Why are you doing this, Lady?”

“I beg the Pope to ask for advice.”

***

After a while, I moved to the area where I had confessions with the Pope.

It was just the two of us to talk.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He was restless for fear that there might have been a problem with the holy relics.

“Pope, the sacred energy of the Holy Spirit has become very cloudy due to the cracks in the past. At this rate, even holy water cannot prevent contamination and corrosion.”

“Oh, that can’t be!”

The pope's eyes widened in astonishment.

“But that doesn't mean there isn't a way at all. Today at midnight, when the moon rises, I will have a ceremony to purify the holy things.”

“Oh. If I do the purification ritual, do the holy things come back?!”

“Yes. I don't know exactly how long it will take... .”

The pope seemed to believe my words like crazy.

'Maybe I, surprisingly, have a talent for being a pseudo-teacher?'

“Is there anything else I can help you with? I will support you with everything you need for the purification ceremony, saint.”

“We need a place of divine energy. The previous sanctuary seemed appropriate.”

I said, remembering the statue of the saint of Naila that stood tall in the center of the sanctuary.

“Yes, use whatever you want.”

“and… Corrupted energy may come in during the purification ceremony, so it is better to do the ceremony alone. So, please don't let this spread out as much as possible.”

I silenced my voice and spoke secretly.

Target is 10 likes and i will upload next chapter.

[lottiecrabie]

crabie do you have any advice on writing dialogue? i beg you please 😔🙏🏼

this one is a bit trickier for me to give advice on as dialogue is the part of writing that has always come easiest and most instinctively to me. but i will try for you bae😔🙏

i’d say a good technique to make the dialogues interesting is to cut off the boring bits. you don’t need to have characters greet each other or say goodbye, or talk about minute things unimportant to the plot, or all the other small talk we usually have. that’s not interesting to read and doesn’t serve your purpose: cut it out. especially end of scenes. they should be ended on a punch, on their strongest part, on the message you want your reader to leave the scene with, to really feel satisfied. most of the time, that’s not after two characters have wished each other a good day and said goodbye— it’s in the middle of a conversation. (in pfms3 when reader smokes with matty, for example, the scene stops when she says something something ‘i said i was disgusting. or at least i could be.’ there’s no point in continuing after that; the message has been made, and though we understand that they close up the conversation afterwards, it would be unnecessary and, again, boring to read it.)

i also like imitating the incertain pattern people realistically talk in. it’s a great way to convey the emotion your character is feeling; if it’s a complex thought to explain, making them repeat themselves or put breaks in their speech shows the character is thinking and searching their words as they speak, making it a lot more real to the reader. (in galatea, for example, she says ‘he was good, but he just— he didn’t think anyone understood him, you know?’ that little hesitation, her restarting a sentence, makes us believe she’s actually thinking at the same time.) obviously, that technique can be used to show many emotions, like frustration or anger or sadness.

adding other speech patterns, for example using a lot of ‘like, this and, like’ for a character will work on its characterization and give it more depth. i find that characters you can differentiate because they all have their own unique voice is something, though pretty difficult and demanding of artful work, absolutely insane and makes the reading better. (i don’t even think i do that. but let me not critique my own work on this writing advice ask.)

you have to understand that dialogue needs rhythm and, since it’s not being literally spoken and therefore given naturally, you shape it with the prose you write around it. if you’re having a bantery moment or a quick, rapid argument, the dialogue needs to be sharp, to the point, and follow one after the other. in that case, you try to add the less amount of action or prose so people read the dialogue faster and get that feeling. if the moment is slower, if they’re thinking, that’s when you can add inner monologue and prose around it. if you are describing an action but want the dialogue to flow with it, you need to put them in the same paragraph, which gives the reader the understanding it is simultaneously happening. if you want to add meaningfulness to a moment or a dialogue, like a camera zooming in on a face and lingering, you need to describe that moment in more details and, subsequently, give a break to the dialogue. after having only paragraphs with dialogue, having one without give us pause. similarly, if you want to build suspense around an answer, breaking the dialogue with action paragraphs builds tension within the reader, sort of like edging.

in general, it’s important to have breaks. even within a monologue, i think it should be almost always cut in different parts. first because it makes it easier for the reader to follow, but also because it is more interesting if they are doing something. think of actors not saying a monologue on the same note, varying the emotions is what makes it interesting. it’s the same literarily; making it multiple paragraphs, adding insight on what they are thinking or how they are delivering this line, are all things that will make the reader more invested.

adding breaks within a single line is also an interesting technique. think of how much dynamic ‘“Just,” you gesture vaguely, groaning in distaste. “An artist.”’ sounds compared to ‘“Just an artist,” you gesture vaguely, groaning in distaste.’ you can feel how she’s saying artist just by it being separated from the word just. or if you want to add emphasis on the last line of a pretty long dialogue, cutting it with a sentence as simple as ‘you laugh bitterly, shaking your head.’ will put emphasis on the solitary line.

rhythm is something you will probably develop the more and more you write. i think most writers do it instinctively; they don’t question why breaking a dialogue up makes it sound better, they just do it. with time, you’ll probably get there on your own. hopefully this helps still!

[animehouse-moe]

Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective Episode 3: The Case of the Benizome Hot Spring Murder (Part 1)

This show is really proving that it was made for me, and it sort of blows my mind that I wasn't really all over it before it aired. Regardless, I'm all over this episode and what Diomeda brings with it, so there's a mountain of stuff I want to talk about!

First of all, Ibata's storyboarding is even better than his work on the first episode for the series. Their focus on objects and using sharp perspective and depth of field to highlight them is sublime for series like this. It just draws you into the scenes so much as you pour over the details in the various scenes.

Also this piece. I love this part, and you can see it in the first episode as well where Ibata shows a few cuts from the leg down. What I love about it here though is that it's used to signal the entrance of Spitz into the scene, which is a lot of fun.

Anyways, I think the point of Ibata being a good storyboarder and being incredibly well suited to Ron is apparent, let's talk story. We get more info on Ron this episode as they show us that it's not a tattoo on his neck, but rather a scar leftover from his BLUE days. Despite that though, Ron claims that the scar has special meaning due to the sixes that appear in it.

This all thanks to a precursor cold open with BLUE, where we get a very tense exchange. Here, we find out that Spitz (the character I mentioned earlier) is tasked with finding out if Ron is doing any detective work. The principal of BLUE gives Spitz some very specific rules, which he delightfully ignores as he effectively sets up the mystery for Toto and Ron in this episode.

I just think it's great fun. We have a formula that's appeared to us. Someone dies, Ron gets involved and the mystery gets solved.

However, in three episodes we've seen consistent changes to these rules.

The second episode saw Ron pass the sleuthing off to Toto so that he could solve the mystery.

And this episode has placed a culprit in front of the people involved right away. Even further, the mystery isn't solved within the span of a single episode.

It's so so great how they're able to change the shape of this series without altering its form. It keeps things so incredibly fresh and creative while providing a theme and feel to follow loosely.

And it's able to integrate the comedy with that so effortlessly. In the second episode, Ron donned a humorous disguise and played into it to provide both humor and hints for viewers.

In this episode we shift the focus of the humor to Spitz, where his intense desire to challenge Ron provides a bit of comedy, as well as potential tips for the viewers. I mean, just imagine that Spitz orchestrated this whole thing just to try and expose Ron. The potential for humor alongside the mystery is truly impressive, I can't begin to wonder how the author's able to come up with ideas like these that marry both sides of the show so well.

Anyways, back into the episode. There's some surprisingly well done cuts! A lot are just super detailed still drawings, but I still think they look very very good.

Also, the environment art for this episode? Super pretty. I love the look of it so much, and it matching with the weather outside is great.

And then there's the visual storytelling. Man oh man I loved this reveal, and for two reasons.

First of all, only Amamiya and Ron dare wade into the water where the dead body floats. This part's just a fun little detail that shows that this pair are involved and interested in the murder, while Toto is more external/distant to it. Also, faceless characters are very apparent in this episode, nd I'm really a sucker for this style of direction. When done with intent it can be a really fun piece.

Anyways, this second layout is far more important. Before a claim can even be made about who killed the woman, the scene betrays the answer. Spitz intended to single out Amamiya, and the layout conveys that by how it separates here, keeping her in the water next to the body while everyone else remains outside. It's almost as if they're framing it like they caught Amamiya in the act.

And I love that they show it from both sides, where it's the group looking out at Amamiya as the suspect, and Amamiya trying to justify herself against the group of people that looms over her.

The whole episode is just as detailed as this. There's all sorts of little bits and pieces, odds and ends and fun little references that do things like make the viewer believe that Spitz is orchestrating the mystery and hand-feeding it to Ron so that he can't resist. There's solid, and even once or twice, great animation in the episode and comedy that reverses roles (Amamiya accidentally wanders into the Men's bath while drunk). It's just a world of content that screams fun and engaging. The dynamics are energetic and well defined, the mysteries are well thought out and provide a great deal of hints and context, and the overall style and execution is really good. I don't know if I could ask for more from Diomeda, truthfully. Well, maybe I'd ask for the episodes to come out quicker so I could get my fix for this series.

[dinoace2]

"I know the angel you were."

"The angel you knew is not me."

That was true, wasn't it? No matter how badly Aziraphale wished it wasn't. Those beautiful brown eyes that shimmered with wonder in Creation's light, forever replaced by serpentine yellow and slitted pupils. Cast out of God's light and condemned to monstrosity.

He felt partially responsible for it, sometimes. Back then, it seemed as if Aziraphale was the first person who held a conversation with them. Perhaps he could have tried harder to silence the questions that the little Starmaker had asked. 'How much trouble', indeed. If he had managed to talk them out of asking, maybe they wouldn't have Fallen.

He remembered that angel well. They were so sweet, so innocent. They stared in awe at the wonder before them, as if they themselves weren't responsible for making it. They giggled as countless nebulae took shape, forging by their hand permanent pieces of the infinite universe. Their very being radiated with love and, although they had yet to know the name for the feeling, pride. Not the sort of pride that inflates oneself and breeds arrogance, no. They were proud of the stars. Proud of their creation.

They were happy.

Aziraphale had only ever seen them smile like that once, and it was when they were marveling at their own creation. That smile went away the moment he told them that it was all temporary. Six thousand years...for an immortal, that's nothing, isn't it. Yet...six thousand years without seeing them smile that way again...it felt...empty, somehow.

Then Aziraphale was made an offer.

"He said...I could appoint you to be an angel!"

It didn't even seem possible. The very idea of restoring a demon didn't, until now, even bear thinking.

It's not as if Aziraphale didn't like Crowley as he was, quite the opposite in fact. Whether or not he cared to admit it, he loved the demon more than anything else in the world (and perhaps, one may argue, even more so than Her, but that's a dillema to unpack another day). He adored everything about him, his curious nature, his imaginative mind, his boldness, his bravery, his kindness that he refuses to acknowledge, even those striking golden eyes that Aziraphale once felt uneasy around. In a general sense, Crowley was just...so perfectly Crowley, that the angel couldn't do anything but utterly Fall (figuratively!) for him.

When the Metatron first made the offer to make him Supreme Archangel, he smiled, politely shook his head, and said: "I dont...want to go back to Heaven." I dont want to leave Crowley behind, he's more important to me than choosing sides. But then the Metatron told him that Crowley could come with him, and-

And be an angel.

That changed everything! He could work with Heaven, to change things for the better, and he would have his dearest Crowley with him. Not only that, Crowley would be an angel again. They could work side-by-side, without fear of retribution from their superiors. He could be like he was before, he could...he could be the Starmaker again.

He could forge galaxies and nebulae at his fingertips, breathe life into empty space, and marvel in the wonder of existence. Just like before.

He could be happy.

Maybe Aziraphale could once again watch his eyes light up and hear him squeal with excitement in the endearing way he once did. Maybe they could work together, officially, and create something marvelous hand-in-hand.

But when he told Crowley the news, he...didn't look nearly as thrilled as Aziraphale had hoped. He seemed...upset, even. Had he done something wrong?

...and Crowley asked him to run away. Together, of course, but fleeing nonetheless.

But...why? They had just been given an option to remain together, without the need for secrecy or fear of punishment! They could do this, together! They could fix things! They could help people!

"Come with me! Angels, in Heaven! Doing Good!" He pleaded, hoping to somehow convey the absolute depth of his desperation and longing. "I-I need you!"

Then...

"You can't leave this bookshop."

The bookshop...? Well, sure, change was always a big and frightening thing for Aziraphale, but...this change was going to be a Good thing. A rather important thing. Besides, thanks to this proposal, no matter where he went he'd always have Crowley with him. As much as he loved his books, they were, after all, just books. He'd found something much more important.

"Oh Crowley...nothing lasts forever." This bookshop doesn't have to last forever. Nothing does, and I'm sure nothing will. But no matter what, I'll have you, and that's all I need. We can last forever.

And then....then he left. After all that. He left, and Aziraphale was suddenly alone. The space across the street, between the elevator and the car, only a few meters apart, felt almost as if the entire universe was between them instead.

What had he done wrong? Was it something he said? Something he did? He offered for Crowley to return to God's light, to join him where he wouldn't have to be afraid anymore.

He offered for him to be happy again. That's all Aziraphale wanted. He wanted to bring him back to a place where his smile shone brighter than the stars he made, where his eyes glittered like swirling galaxies. But...it seemed that wasn't what he wanted anymore, clearly.

"I know the angel you were."

"The angel you knew is not me."

They aren't, are they...he realized that now. That angel is long gone. And no Miracle could ever bring them back.

oh, crowley... nothing lasts forever.

print link: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/verbaticles/oh-crowley-nothing-lasts-forever/

[kaleido-write]

Chapter 6 part 6

Thats a natural conversation that follows a great fluidity unlike the rest of the chapter !!

It finally feels like something roommates would say

Tho on the 3rd case , wtf is that hand 😭 you can use refs without tracing it's ok pooks

Its painful how the need of references is that visible , Jaden went from a somewhat square face to full on circle, i get it drawing faces can sucks and be hard to remember, so that's why you use references yk ?

Tho i really like Riley reaction , it gives us more insight in her character and how she react to people getting hurt / her being worried

OK so , this comic is supposed to be readable for minors , so having adults be so sexually vocal in the comments is really weird especially since rusty accepted that comment shes making the choice to make this space unsafe for minors , yes teenager will have sexual interactions ect ofc , but they shouldn't be exposed to it from adults , they shouldn't have to fall onto that . Its why their parent , teachers or health workers they seek help from are the people in position to talk to them about that , in obviously healthy and responsible manner . Rusty should change the rating to 18 yo if she cannot keep her space minor friendly and its ok to have adult only spaces , the issue is shes blurring the lines and boundaries surrounding her comic by not making this clear .

Truly it baffles me how much Jaden face shape changed from rectangular/square to a squished up circle

Also please rusty. Look up how to draw fingers ? Because here everything looks squished up and you definitely don't know the rules of anatomy enough , you can't break them yet

Her expression is a bit too subtle to my liking , putting more emphasis on both their expression would've helped convey the emotions way better since the artstyle is very cartoons and stylized

I really hate how infantilized Jaden is , especially since she's the only butch black women , it has been made clear the audience rusty is looking to cater to is women attracted to butch women wich by all means , butch women are beautiful and deserve this much love , that said infantilization and dumbing down a black butch women is objectifying , calling a very intelligent woman who has been shown to be strong and independent (she was also shown to be violent wich is another weird attribution to give the only black butch woman) but objectifying her and not emplifying her already existing qualities because all you see is that she's a bimbo (wich is the word for women its weird youre using the adjective given to guys usually) is pretty weird

Shes not even a bimbo she's very intelligent and educated , bimbos and himbos examples would be edan from the howl house , superman , grunkle stan , Gretchen and so many more

And rusty is enabling her audience to misinterpret her black butch lesbian dumbing her down and , frankly, objectifying her is weird , I get it Fandoms will be Fandom and simping on characters is completely fine , the issue is have is theyre objectifying black butch woman , especially when there's little to no one simping for Riley, Jaden is obviously made into the characters you're meant to simp wich sure go for it , but , it can be done without enabling your audience

And if the main focus isn't supposed to be on Jaden then show it , show that Riley is as important as her show that she is desirable as well , we are 6 chapters in and it has been made obvious the focus is on Jaden, in a work made to see 2 people end up together its important to give both of the mc similar time , because they have to go trough growth , you can't expect people to root for a half baked characters vs a very well fleshed out character .

That scene is sweet , again more emphasis on the expressions would be perfect for that scene

There is that sweet care that Riley radiate from her vs the guilt Jaden feels for being in need of help and that is good , working to deconstruct 1 d archetypes and giving depth to your characters is great

Again , if rusty actually made the transwoman violent then this would make sense , going close to someone to talk to them isn't violence nor a threat , she might be scared that's fair , she might be uncomfortable too , but going as far as to restraint people without any valid reason is violent , you can't root for someone that does violent things

And if you feel like showing you black butch lesbian be a defender , maybe idk do researches on queer history and how to properly write conflicts and violent scenes , gender has an intricate relationship with lesbians whether you like it or not , especially black lesbians , so if you as an individual you're only attracted to cis lesbians women THATS FINE what you can't do is shame lesbians for their individual choices nor deny the history of it .

Again , a cap will not change someone's head shape , its ok you can draw her squary head

Rusty need to use guidelines and references, because she's very inconsistent in how she draw her character and not as in they kinda change shape ect , as in the eyes are way too far from each other or Jaden square to circle head . Its ok to use guidelines and references there's no art police that will scream at you i promise

And we are already page 50 , its a lot , rusty clearly doesn't know where she goes , she's making insanely long chapters that convey very little story and information in the giant pool of content she does , it get watered down because she doesn't cut to what's important because let's be honest , you can't write everything, as a content creator of any kind you have to acknowledge some content will have to be put aside and will not work , you have to cut down to what convey everything in the best way possible /according to what you want to convey

What you can do with the leftovers of content / what didn't make the cut into the comic and have it as additional content that the most interested will look for or make it temporarily only available behind a paywall so that people that most want to support you get additional content/lore

This is a pretty ok panel , i like how it focuses on Riley instead of Jaden, we need to see her more we need to understand her , root for her as much as Jaden

thats a really interesting thought !! I like how Riley understood that Jaden was lying but also understood she wasn't being malicious, and the confusion over who Jaden was trying to fool ? It's a really sweet trope that works well especially in a dorky romance setting wich again that's what rusty does the best. She obviously enjoy doing that

I also find it so creative when rusty does out of panel stuff like the arm sticking out of the cases !

[xinyiinng]

CTS A - Week 10ㅣ Compulsory Question 1

In the terms of critical thinking skills, I had a deep knowledge into how it is a conceptual understanding of a topic . Critical thinking involves analysing information, evaluating evidence, and synthesising ideas to make informed decisions. By developing these skills, I can approach real-life scenarios more effectively, identifying problems and crafting solutions based on sound reasoning.

Recently , for studio we were grouped to have a discussion based on the 7 topic e.g ( What is CTS-A, Collaborative Skills, Emotional Intelligence , Assertion & Conflict, Growth Mindset, Facts and reliable Sources and documentation.) 

We decided to create leaves that branches out our point and ideas into the various category . The main reason as to why we chose flowerpot filled with leaves as our visual metaphor as we were inspired by how the human brain can be set as a brainstorm mind map . Hence using something similar to convey the same kind of concept and meaning behind our brainstorm mind map , we set on using leaves.

Personally I enjoyed the activity mention above where we were group to discuss the 7 main topics as a group. As this activity helped me to understand and revise back on what I have been lacking and learning throughout the semester. When breaking down the different points into each respective category I got to see things better from a new perspective and with my peers contribution to their ideas and solutions, it gave me inspiration for ideas I had never had before, and this make me think further critically on how I can apply it into my modules likes crafts and techniques or even digital skills . 

#criticalthinking #growth-mindset

What is the Value of working in a group?

The value of working in a group comes with so many pro’s . Personally the most obvious result to me is that it creates a diverse set skills, every individuals bring different strength and expertise, enhancing the overall capability of the group . When working in a group, I also learn valuable values such as being a motivator to my peers, sharing the workload can provide emotional support and encouragement , helping my team members to stay motivated and engaged . I would usually encouraged my team mates to share their ideas and let them feel inclusive so that everyone is on the same page moving forward ,through this I do feel that its important for everyone to learn from each other , and eventually gain new perspectives and skills. To Conclude, Having to work as a group it helps builds my communication skills to be stronger and enables me to sort out emotions, ideas and feedbacks. It also enhanced my creativity , collaborating can spark new idea’s and by building on each other point’s we can foster a more innovative environment and a more dynamic creative outcome.

What do you wish You did more of, or better?

I wish I could have taken a step forward to balance out my team mates ideas, as sometimes we tend to have various ideas and might go off topic. This leads to us not fully understanding the topic and conveying the wrong message, but after clarification and feedbacks we managed to get back on track and reflected on our theories . On another note, I wish I could have been more confident in sharing my ideas, as i tend to just go with the flow of  my peers and not speak up my thoughts. This makes me feel a little regretful as I wish I could had contribute actively to my group and at the same time step out of my comfort zone to share my ideas even if there was judgement,  I would learn to take it as a constructive feedback for me to become better .

CTS A - Week 11 l Compulsory Question 2

During CTS lesson, we did another mind map similarly to the previous exercise but this time it’s link to our various modules and to talk in depth of the areas we can improve on. We broken down each module in the respective shapes to differentiate them as shown below. I think one of the important value that I learned and benefited me the most was growth mind set , while having this value in mind while completing my assignments for all modules, I found myself to have a better growth in learning and was able to stimulate a sense of producing high quality work.

Let's take Crafts And Techniques for instance, I do think for this module I am weak in so many area's and tend to get demotivated especially when I do not excel in hand's on craft works. However applying growth mindset into my learning, I was able to have a goal in mind and that motivated me to re design a better draft for my final work. Taking in feedbacks from my lecturer was also beneficial as they helped me see things from a different point of view and is crucial for me to improve. Because of what CTS had taught me I became more self driven in my learning and to take opportunities as a way to grow.

Following up, we have Digital Skills. I personally enjoy this module as my strength is better in creating design on the applications in my computer etc : ( Adobe Illustrator , Photoshop, Indesign ) . Hence while creating posters for my CPJ , sometimes I do think that my design lacks details and communication, but with the constructive feedbacks from my peers and lecturers, I was able to face my challenges and make a art piece that is original to represent my design style. Sometimes some works might be tedious like rotoscope but this is exactly the reason why I was able to sharpen my skills and to think critically , it definitely shape me to take in feedbacks and criticism with an open mind .

For Photography, I tend to stick to one concept and feel when taking the pictures. But the process was really fun to begin with hence I did not really struggle with this module but also gain new interest towards photography. I applied Cognitive and Thinking Skills when taking my pictures, I like to take pictures of moments in life and interpret my pictures effectively with clear communication through my photos. This made me self evaluate on how my pictures could speak different meaning and forms from different perspective, there are no right or wrong's but exploration for photos that could communicate with people. The ability to apply this skill set into my module was something I did not expect but it was a great opportunity for me to take up the challenge and helps me develop my creativity better.

Lastly we have studio lesson, generally I think this module really trains my time management and growth mindset the most. Journalling my work process and documenting my art work was taking up a lot of time and effort but I really enjoyed every bits of it . This is due to the fact that many of the works required taking pictures of the process, and journaling them the struggles I had throughout the assignments, however this might seem like a tedious task but it brought out my perseverance in wanting to produce good quality work. As I saw my classmates and senior's work, I was really impressed by the quaintly they produced and ideas I never knew could had been done, while referencing their work I became more motivated to brainstorm and get working on my creativity.

Along the way , I tend to ponder why do our lectures emphasise the important of researching snd documenting our works, but now I understand this is a state of building up our growth mindset and to prevent plagiarism . I do think this method is a effective way in helping us learn and get to design better works as when I look back at the research and failures I had encountered, I was really surprised to see the improved version compared to when I first started, this gave me a realisation that studio do help me develop my skill sets and get to know myself better as a designer, there are many areas for improvement and these failures and challenges that was thrown to me was just another process for me to self evaluate on my progress .

CTS A - Week 12 l Compulsory Question 3

What kind of collaborative projects would you like to do ?

There are so many various different faculty of courses I want to collaborate, but personally I really want to collaborate with faculty of performing arts . I think it would be really exciting and insightful for both design students and the dancers to exchange experiences and skill set. Putting together a exhibition where we can do a visual dance story telling where dancers would perform a piece that tells a story, while us graphic design students would create visuals (illustration, infographics) that interpret and enhance the narrative. This could also be done using graphic motions to create an immersive performance where visual dynamically change based on the dancer’s movement , this would be more interactive and fun to the audience point of view.

Similarly to my idea, here's a reference article that talks about school of design collaborating with school of dance , working hand in hand everyone plays a important role in conveying the same message but through various unique ways.

What kind of final project would you like to do?

I would love to hold a campaign for Art Installations where I get to collaborate with local artist and designer to create public art . These could be murals. Sculptures, or interactive pieces that invite community participation.

Holding this kind of campaign event would enables local designers to come together to work and showcase their diversity for arts. It will also be a eyeopener for visitors to view and gain insights from the local artist. The main goal for this event is to reach to everyone internationally about how art can connect things and people together to create a special moment or piece of art work in the field of design . 

One way to gain more attention from people is to create infographics post on social media as nowadays social media is a large platform that connects people together . Creating hashtags and motion graphics allows people to understand better about the event contents and eventually gain interest in joining this campaign.

Consider community engagement and professional skills. ( propose one idea you would like to work with , and how ?)

Host a blood drive in partnership with a local blood bank and even hospitals.. Promote it as a way to give back, and include a donation option for those who want to support hospital programs. To link to what we graphic designer can do is to create infographic poster, websites and links on social media about blood donation. People from around the world could donate a certain sum of money to those in need via a link , gathering funds enables people to connect and come together to help support those in need and understand the importance/purpose of this event .

How can CTS A help you professionally ?

In the future, I would want to pursue being a graphic designer, as I want to inspire and make a meaningful impact through visual communication . I hope that my works would create positive changes in the way people view the world , making connections with people through my art piece that speaks different emotions and meaning.

To build up my career pathway, CTS had definitely taught me values and guide me to how things work in the real life working world. There would be many struggles midway through the journey however attending CTS in studio had make me step out of my comfort zone to try out new challenges and be more clear of what I want to do in the future. This module has also enables my creative thinking to help me generate idea's better and to be more confident in public speaking, for someone who is very introvert I tend to shy away from speaking in front of an audience but now I can be confident to present what I wish to convey to the audience clearly.

In conclusion, CTS definitely plays a important role in shaping my knowledge and understanding of oneself emotions, capabilities and understanding.

[the-cat-chat]

March 16, 2024

The Wonder (2022)

Set in The Irish Midlands in 1862, the story follows a young girl who stops eating but remains miraculously alive and well. English nurse Lib Wright is brought to a tiny village to observe eleven-year old Anna O'Donnell.

Warning: Review may contain spoilers. Read at your own risk.

JayBell: I have mixed feelings about this movie. The concept itself is rather promising. The tone is appropriately creepy and foreboding. The acting is nothing to complain about (my love for Florence Pugh continues).

Plus, the characters themselves get a good amount of depth. Florence Pugh's character is definitely strong-willed and determined and she has a beautiful mix of logical intelligence and empathy. I also like that newspaper dude isn't motivated only by his feelings for the new hot girl in town, but a deeper traumatizing past.

I really love a mystery in a movie. It's fun to guess along and try to figure the case out alongside the characters. The mystery is drawn out as long as it can in the movie, which I think influences the pacing and the timing of the big "reveal" and the conclusion. To me, the pacing felt a little off as a result. Furthermore, since the movie wants to keep the mystery as long as possible, the motivations of key characters like the mother don't get as much clarity.

After the big reveal, I still felt a bit confused as to who held certain beliefs and why the mother and daughter made certain decisions. Some of which I can assume, but ultimately, I would have liked to understand the mother's true feelings about her daughter, her son, and so on. I think this greater insight into their characters would shape how I feel about the conclusion.

Also, kind of confused at what the nun added to the movie. I wish she had more of an impact. And the council of men are ANNOYING for sure, but aren't they wondering why there are no bones or anything leftover from the fire?

But in the end, I'm glad for the "happy" ending, even though I'm not sure it may be the healthiest ending. I suppose mentally unhealthy is better than dead?

Rating: 6/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: I knew this movie was going to be crazy but in a “heheh this is really crazy,” way. And it totally was, bc remembering it I feel like I’m having a fever dream. Don’t get me wrong it was great- Florence Pugh could be in literally any genre, any time period, and she kills it. Like Florence Pugh is from 2024? Uhhh have you seen her in a 1800s dress?? Bc she’s totally from the 1800s. Anyway. The premise is interesting and trying to guess how the girl wasn’t eating/ was eating and all that- I do think it was such a great but odd choice to contrast that with how many times you see Florence Pugh’s character eat.

I hated the stoopid council of men and I will be speaking no more on them.

Towards the end I was getting so over the girl. Like stop and eat. Pllllsss. Especially when her tooth came out I got a knot in my stomach. And I feeellll bad for that bc of why she didn’t eat. And it was sick and twisted. And I get the whole identity and the stories we tell ourselves deal the movie is trying to convey. But part of it felt slow after everything we had seen - and weird bc although I did pick up on part of the reasoning regarding the brother (especially seeing the weird demon eyes painted over his painting even tho that’s a totallllly normal thing people used to do) I never got a bad vibe from her mother or any animosity towards the girl?? Too bc she was feeding her the “manna” which barfff. Also if you’re that sick and twisted in your logic and reasoning how can you just switch it off if people observing your child are there 24/7? But what do I know- surely not how to victim blame my 11 year old daughter into starving to “save” her dead perverted brother’s “soul,” if he had one.

Finallly- the ending is so not what I expected but I think it’s as close as a happy ending this movie could have. I think there are ethical situations since Anna became Nan?? And like if she could process her trauma without a new dissociated identity would she choose to leave her family to go be the nurse and reporter’s kid?? (Probs considering what happened??) And I really wanna know if Nan was the nurse’s baby’s name or did Anna just like it. Like is she replacing her?? Anyway I choose to ignore it and just accept the weirdness of them becoming a family. (Totally called the reporter and the nurse marrying even if it’s fake) It’s nice. 😅

I did like the narrative at the end and how there are so many children that are affected by issues like starvation or abuse every day that should be addressed rather than passively observed- like how the counsel of men did and wanted Lib to do too. I think using the actor that worked in the house- who was really only just there- and only really told us little tidbits like how Will’s family starved and locked themselves away while he was gone- to call back to the little flipping bird toy was also really great, making the audience think about if the Anna/Nan situation is freedom or a cage, and that like Will said - it depends on how you view it.

* I hate how easy it was to say when Anna died she was in such shock her dress caught the flame and that all the council has to say is she isn’t getting paid.

* I also hate that my brain made me dream of the reporter guy as a vampire that was in control of evil flying monkeys.

Rating: 7/10 Cats 🐈

[tgm-zeej]

Honestly, I think this is why most critics are so notoriously terrible at evaluating kid’s movies. Critics have to watch a movie. Kids get to watch a movie.

The job of a critic is to point to the tangible. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but anyone who knows an aging graduate of film school or someone who used to work in a video store also knows that objectivity™ ironically has a very subjective definition to some.

They’ll talk about the camera work, the director’s choices, the acting, the quality of the script, who wrote it, etc. They’ll talk about the troubled production, point out aspects they perceive as derivative, and present the reader with a snappy (usually hyperbolic and unnecessarily prolix) conclusion in hopes of making it onto the poster or at least a featured quote on RottenTomatoes.

Now, trying to shape my brain flashes into words that properly convey what’s in my head is what I do with 70% of my neurons, often completely against my will (hyperfixation woooo.) I have a ton of respect for in depth media analysis. I have a ton of respect for people who are a little autistic (with love) about the technical aspects of filmmaking.

Every art form needs a certain number of nerds who obsess over details. It’s the only way we got from cave paintings to digital art.

Ug said Gronk’s deer showed influence from Tunk’s moose but ultimately failed to capture the true spirit of deeraciousness he was going for. Gronk feigned ambivalence toward this negative review, went back to his cave and sobbed in the fetal position as the minor criticism rattled around his skull like thunder until sleep finally took him. Then he eventually painted better deer. Y’know, standard life of an artist.

But the critical analysis is ultimately just a small part. Movie critics—who are obligated to watch every big movie that comes out and have a fully formed opinion about it in written form within a day or so—tend to focus heavily on these aspects because those are what you see when a movie fails to engage you. Because it’s for kids, and most adults are genuinely terrible at relating to children.

The thing is, those aspects are very often completely superficial to the ultimate purpose of a review: “I have not seen this movie, can someone who has tell me if I will like it or not?”

Imagine reading a review of the Lion King that heavily criticized the zoological inaccuracies, derivative nature of the plot, and the short running time for four paragraphs, then shoehorned a “the animation and music were pretty good though” into their conclusion.

This is how many actual professional movie critics have previously and are currently approaching children’s media. And once one big publication/critic decrees that a movie is Good or Bad, you’ll find that their peers tend to fall in line. Because the Internet is exactly like a grade school playground and everyone will make fun of little Jimmy when they find out he doesn’t like the new Zelda that much or whatever.

Kids mostly just judge a movie based on how it makes them feel. They’re not usually super concerned with forming a supporting argument so they can feel smart and special—thats what mid to late teens are for. They’ll just tell you what engaged them.

This character is pretty, this character is cool, this part was awesome, the fart joke was funny, etc. That’s not gonna get you a lot of praise on letterboxd, but it is contextually a pretty good review. It’s what kids who liked it would tell their friends who hadn’t seen it.

Those kids will grow up to be the adults who write the think pieces and in depth analysis. The critical consensus will shift, and the opinionated 25 year olds of that generation will dig up those contemporary reviews and (often rightly) mock the old fucks who wrote them.

They’ll probably be able to explain why the fart joke was funny by then.

Having seen Wish and Strange World, I think this batch of Disney films are going to age VERY well.

I know they haven't been received the warmest or had a great box office run, but I keep thinking back on the Disney movies that came out when I was a kid. The Emperor's New Groove, Atlantis, Brother Bear, Treasure Planet, all of them were received similarly. Critics didn't love them (except Treasure Planet I think) and they didn't make a lot of money. They were written off as duds.

But for everyone my age, those were our favorite Disney movies because those were OUR Disney movies. Wish and Strange World may be no Encanto (what is?), but they're a lot better than I see them getting credit for. And honestly, I'm going to through Raya and the Last Dragon in here too. That was received better by critics but it seems like we don't talk about that as much even though it's awesome. Just like Treasure Planet!

In ten or twenty years, the kids who grow up on these movies will sing their praises as underrated classics. So even as they're written off as, "let downs," today, they won't be forgotten. They'll be loved and cherished by a generation. Knowing some kid will love them as much as I love Treasure Planet and thinking about their inevitable staying power, that makes me REALLY happy.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Tender Regards Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (心意之约) which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

[ This date was released in CN on 16 Sep 2020 ]

Dedicating this translation to @kshiro​ for her constant, wholesome support since the early days of this blog ❤️

The date begins with MC in the office on a summer afternoon, musing over the “Snail Mail” collaboration event officially commencing the next day

She finds the name of the company very familiar, but she just can’t remember why

After ending a call with Anna (who reveals that the event would be taking place in the same camellia garden as the one in Maze Date), she receives a message from Victor, who invites her to dinner

She heads over to the camellia garden, and spots a familiar figure:

Under the eaves not too far away, Victor is wearing a black shirt, facing the curtain of rain as though in a trance.

Water droplets follow the branches which curl around the carved balustrades. He lifts his head slightly, and his expression is nonchalant.

We’re separated by some distance, so I can’t clearly identify the flowers in the bouquet he’s holding. I can only see his handsome chin. 

All of a sudden, he lifts his other hand gently. A water droplet pelts onto his palm, as though pulling him into the pattering rain. 

Seeing this, I find myself subconsciously frozen in place.

Because of the enshrouding misty rain, the Victor before me appears warmer and more tender than usual.

Taking a deep breath, an idea surfaces in my mind. I blink slyly, then deliberately lower my umbrella.

I brisk walk across the puddles towards the stairs, covering myself with the umbrella, attempting to furtively skirt behind Victor--

Victor: What smart idea have you come up with this time?

MC: ...!

My eyes widen in shock. Victor stands in front of the stairs. The moment our eyes meet, resignation flashes across his face, and also a hint of mischievousness. 

Victor: Is it very shocking for me to recognise you?

MC: I thought you were in a daze...

Victor: I was at first. But someone’s “style” is just too unique, and I couldn’t ignore it even if I wanted to. 

While he speaks, a smile appears on Victor lips, and his eyebrows rise slightly.

MC: Yes yes yes, my “smart idea” is too childish.

With this proximity, I can finally see the bouquet in his hand clearly: pink camellia flowers which are in full bloom.

[Trivia] Pink camellias symbolise longing, desire, and unreserved love

MC: Are these flowers from the camellia garden? It’s so rare to see CEO Victor with a bouquet! Looks like your plans for this afternoon are very important.

While glancing at him, I raise my volume, deliberately adopting an official yet curious tone.

MC: I wonder who’s the lucky person to receive flowers from CEO Victor? 

You thought Victor would counter with a “childish”, but all he does is hang a faint smile on his lips, quietly listening to everything I say.

Victor: I have nothing much in the afternoon. Though I have plans in the evening.

In the next second, the flowers are handed to me. Standing against the backdrop of the misty rain, Victor’s expression exudes tenderness. 

Victor: I prepared this for a certain dummy.

Accepting the flowers, I burst into a grin.

MC: Come to think of it, what are you doing here? Are you looking for Curator Kim?

Victor brushes off the water droplets on my shoulder. Instead of giving me an answer, he tilts his head upwards and responds with a question.

Victor: Are you here at this time for the “Snail Mail” event?

MC: Mm. The event will officially begin tomorrow, so I’m here to check up on this place again.

Victor: Looks like you’ve been listening to what I say. At least in work, you’ve become more conscientious. Not bad. It’s a good thing.

I straighten up, eyes crinkling as I respond.

MC: Of course! I’ve always been a very serious and responsible producer. 

I place a lot of emphasis on the word “always”, and mirth appears in Victor’s eyes. 

Victor: Let’s go then. I have some time, so I’ll accompany you to have a look. And also see if there’s a correlation between the state of the venue and your self-praise. 

They take a look around the garden, and Victor’s gaze lingers on mailboxes on the wall at the back:

Everyone who sends Future Mail can write down the exact time they wish for it to be sent - whether it be a month later, a year later, or five years later.

The staff would then add a heart-shaped postmark. After slipping it into the mailbox, it’d be considered as sending a “gift to the future”.

On the wall behind the mailboxes, numerous stamps form the words “Snail Mail”, as well as the small words on the bottom right: A gift to the future. 

Noticing Victor’s gaze, I move closer to him with a joyful smile.

MC: Don’t you find the name of the theme very creative? 

Victor: “A gift to the future”... did you come up with this?

My eyes light up, and I nod quickly.

Victor: I could tell it was your style the moment I heard it - flashy and without substance. 

MC: ...how is it flashy and without substance? 

MC: Do you still remember the special episode on “Feelings” from before? Actually, this theme was inspired by that episode. Giving gifts is a common way to express how one feels. But it’s not that easy to send a gift to the future. With Future Mail, the sender can convey their feelings and surprises in this gift to the other party across time. 

Victor is silent for a while, an unreadable depth in his eyes. 

Victor: ...I see. I can more or less understand today’s Future Mail.

MC: Huh? 

I furrow my brows. Before I can clarify what he means, Victor has already walked closer to the wall, pointing at the words formed by the stamps. 

Victor: Why did you use stamps to form the words? 

MC: To complement the idea of “Future Mail”. Even though few people use stamps nowadays, I feel they better convey the idea of sending something. For example, this one! It might look unremarkable, but its journey is hardly normal.

I raise my head, pointing to a stamp at the corner with slightly yellowed edges.

MC: In a time before the development of communication technology, an elderly man, who was still a young boy at the time, pasted this stamp on a letter and sent it out. 

MC: By the time the letter reached its destination, the elderly man had already proposed to the elderly woman. Because it was lost, it took a whole two years for the letter to arrive... 

MC: Back then, the elderly man would never have guessed that this letter would go through an unexpected turn of events to become a gift to the future. 

MC: How does that sound - from its form to its stories, they all tally with the theme of the event, don’t they?

Victor: The creativity is satisfactory. You did a lot of homework. No wonder you have the confidence to praise yourself.

Gaining his affirmation, satisfaction bubbles in my heart. Pulling on his hand, we walk to a table at a corner. 

MC: If we’re talking about creativity, it doesn’t stop at the words formed using stamps!

Victor picks up the small, red lacquered crescent-shaped block, holding it on his palm.

Victor: You’re referring to this?

MC: Mm, poe divination is definitely considered creative! 

[Trivia] Poe divination is a traditional Chinese divination method where a pair of crescent-shaped wooden or bamboo blocks is thrown on the ground, with the positions of the blocks determining the divine answer

Clearing my throat, I use my most serious and stern expression to explain this “creativity”

MC: After all, it’s sent to a future which is filled with uncertainty. So people will definitely struggle in deciding if they should send such a gift. At this point, the poe divination blocks will contain the answer.

Victor suddenly leans a little closer, tapping my forehead with a bent finger.

Victor: Are you sure you didn’t prepare it just because you like it?

MC: ...

MC: When faced with unknown circumstances and being unable to make a decision, many people will wish to borrow some help from “fate’s direction”.

MC: It’s been statistically proven!

Victor: ...you always have a reason for everything.

A gust of wind carrying water droplets courses in through the window. Victor turns his head to gaze outside the window. Beside the enclosed corridor, a small candy coloured shed is concealed behind the trees.

Victor: Is that shed also part of this “creativity”?

MC: Not only that. It’s the “secret weapon” of this event - a shed for Future Mail videos!

Victor ponders for a moment. 

Victor: From what I understand from the words, it’s a gift where videos are sent at a scheduled time?

MC: That’s right. Even though letters and objects are more ceremonial in nature, videos could be even more vivid and interesting.

I suddenly think of something while speaking, and grip his sleeve.

MC: Victor, why don’t we give it a try first? I haven’t officially seen how a recording would look like. 

Right after I finish speaking, Victor tilts his face downwards, his lips pursed together slightly. Seeing his expression, the answer I predicted is readied--

Victor: I’m not interested.

...as expected.

MC: Just a short two minutes of recording will do... it’s so meaningful!

I attempt to canvass my explanation. Before I can weave together what I prepared, a stranger’s voice pipes up.

Staff: Hello, may I know if you’re Miss MC? 

Before us stands a young man who is dressed in the attire of an employee of the garden.

MC: I am. Is something the matter? 

Staff: That’s great. We just discovered that there seems to be a few more decorations. Could you come take a look? 

MC: Sure, I’ll be there immediately!

Watching as I immediately become enlivened, Victor speaks faintly. 

Victor: I can see that you’re very invested in this event.

MC: As long as I’m doing something, I’ll give it my all. You were the one who taught me this.

I tilt my head cheekily, but Victor looks as though he’s deep in thought. 

Victor: So... the reason why you took up this “Snail Mail” event was simply because of the program?

MC: Yes... should there be another reason? 

Staring at him a little blankly, I have no idea what it could be. 

Victor: Nothing. You should go ahead. 

I walk towards the door, but hesitate and swivel my head around because of his words. Seeing that Victor is remaining silent, I turn back, deciding to complete the work on hand first. 

Watching the girl’s back as she runs off, Victor’s gaze returns to the small shed not afar off. Mottled lights are cast onto his face, and his expression can’t be seen clearly.

After a while, he turns and walks towards the small shed. 

-

By the time they leave the camellia garden, evening has begun to set in and the rain has stopped

MC thought Victor would bring her to Souvenir for dinner, but the car stops at his house instead

Thinking of how I’d get to enjoy Chef Victor’s “special dinner”, I place the bouquet on the coffee table and happily plop myself onto the sofa. 

MC: Huff... I can finally have dinner. What should I order... With so many things I want to eat, it’s suddenly a little perplexing.

Seeing my slightly sly smile, Victor tosses a sweeping glance at me, then sits on the sofa as well.

Victor: Take your time to decide. 

Victor: First, come here. Look at this. I received this in the morning.

From a gift box at the corner of the coffee table, Victor retrieves a sheet of paper which resembles an envelope. On the back of it, I think I see--

A heart-shaped postmark?!

I hurriedly straighten up, wanting to grab it from Victor’s hand. Apart from the letter, there seems to be an exquisite-looking, petite bottle...

MC: ...camellia essential oil? 

The words slip out of my mouth.

After Victor and I visited the maze in the camellia garden back then, the staff gave us a bottle of camellia essential oil which was made in the garden.

As pre-opening guests, Victor and I were the first to walk out of the maze. And this bottle of essential oil was also their first unique gift.

This unique prize seemed to be telling me that no matter which direction I choose, as long as I keep moving forward, I’ll definitely be on the same path as Victor in the end.

Back then, I had “monopolised” this bottle of essential oil, which carried the sentiments I couldn’t say aloud. 

MC: I remember hiding this bottle of essential oil once I got home. Why is it with you?

Victor: Are you sure? Think through it again. 

Sensing Victor’s deep gaze, a forgotten memory surfaces in my mind...

[ flashback ]

A while after parting with Victor, a small shop brimming with warmth comes into view. 

MC: “Snail Mail”... what does this mean?”

Filled with curiosity, I push the doors open and enter. With the staff’s explanation, I finally get the meaning of this shop’s Future Mail.

MC: It sounds really interesting - I’ll send him a gift then! What should I send? 

Biting the pen cap, I stare at the white letter paper and suddenly see the bottle of essential oil, which is still causing undulating emotions in my heart...

[ end of flashback ]

Victor: Looks like you remember now. 

When the faraway memory returns, I suddenly understand what Victor was referring to when he said “I see” after I had explained the theme earlier in the afternoon.

The sky gradually clears up after the rain, and the corners of Victor’s lips seem to be dyed with the warmth of sunset. He looks at the letter in his hand.

Victor: “To a certain ‘CEO Victor’ who always surprises me.”

Without warning, Victor actually starts reading out the contents of the letter! I subconsciously try to stop him.

MC: You’re not allowed to read it out!

As though he didn’t hear my objection, Victor continues reading in a composed manner. 

Victor: “Even though you’re taciturn most of the time, and love criticising me mercilessly, you always bring me unexpected hope whenever I'm at my wit’s end...”

Hearing Victor’s unchanging tone of voice, this somewhat “public confession” causes me to turn completely red in the face. 

MC: S-stop reading it!

I reach out to snatch the letter, but Victor simply raises his long arm, easily lifting it out of reach.

Victor: It’s a letter you wrote yourself. Why aren’t you letting me read it? 

MC: ...just give it back to me!

Seizing an opening, I pounce forward fiercely, but am still not as fast as his sharp eyes and deft hands.

Abruptly losing my balance and slipping on my feet, I stumble towards Victor. Instinctively, I reach out to grab something to stabilise myself-- 

Rip--

Accompanying a soft sound, a button ends up in my hand. I lift my head in astonishment, only to be greeted by Victor’s suddenly loosened tie and bare skin...

It turns out that I accidentally tore off the button near his neckline!

Glancing at his chest, I subconsciously swallow the words I was planning to say. I stuff the button into his hand, then quietly huddle in a corner. 

MC: ...here, the button.

Victor: Looks to me like the state of your cerebellum deserves to be re-assessed. 

[Trivia] The cerebellum is the part of the brain responsible for a number of functions including motor skills such as balance, coordination, and posture :’D

MC: I didn’t do it on purpose!

MC: It’s your fault for reading the letter aloud. 

Victor: Sophistry.

Thinking that Victor would continue with his criticisms, he unexpectedly sets the letter down, then retrieves the essential oil in the box. 

Victor: Not reading the letter is fine. Tell me - why did you send this bottle of essential oil to me using Future Mail? 

Victor turns his head towards a still-blushing me, as he unhurriedly tugs his neckline closed. I take the unopened bottle from him, and give it some thought. 

MC: I didn't put in much thought back then. I was really happy when we were at the camellia garden together... 

MC: And this bottle of essential oil seemed to be telling me-- 

MC: That no matter which direction I choose, you’ll definitely be the first, and the only person to walk the same path with me. 

MC: The reason why I sent it using Future Mail was so that you’d re-experience the beautiful memories I did after a period of time, and feel how I felt.

After hearing this, Victor’s brows soften, and he looks to be in a pretty good mood. 

Opening the bottle, I take a whiff. Even after such a long time, the fragrance of camellias is still clear and refreshing.

MC: Does essential oil have such a long shelf life? It’s not spoilt at all! Take a whiff - isn’t it still very fragrant?

Watching him arch his brows in objection, I purse my lips. Something occurs to me, and my eyes crinkle as I hold the bottle in front of him. 

MC: Why don’t I sacrifice myself for a while! I’ve been so busy with this event that my neck and shoulders are sore. I wonder if I have the honour of troubling CEO Victor to give me a shoulder rub? We could also test if the essential oil is still effective.

Victor doesn’t take it, but shifts his gaze towards me. 

Victor: ...you’re ordering me to give you a massage? The reason you found was very pompous. Are you sure you’re sacrificing yourself? 

I smile, ignoring his protests and stuffing the bottle into his hands. Then, I lift my hair up, turning to the side to signal that he should hurry up. 

A while later, along with a sigh, the cooling liquid is gently dripped onto my neck region. 

Victor: You’re sitting so far away. It’s not my problem if its effectiveness is compromised.

I immediately scoot backwards, shifting slightly closer to him. Victor laughs like he’s in a good mood, gently encircling me into his chest. 

Separated by the thin, see-through gauze material of my clothes, it’s as though his hand is directly on my skin, soaking it with the warmth of his palm. I subconsciously hold my breath.

Victor: Is this the place which feels uncomfortable? 

MC: A little more to the left. 

Victor: Here? 

MC: Mm... around there. 

Just as I prepare to doze off and properly enjoy this experience, the soft fingers suddenly move away. Victor shifts slightly, leaning close to my neck.

The searing breaths from his nose course through the air, descending on the nape of my neck like the quivering wings of a cicada. It feels warm and ticklish. 

Victor: The fragrance isn’t bad. Looks like it still has effectiveness. 

His baritone voice comes from behind me. He sets down the bottle, and finally kneads my neck gently.

Without realising it, the afterglow of dusk breaks through the earlier overcast, casting golden light spots across the bright and spacious living room.

Victor’s hand is still around my waist, and I relax, resting against his shoulder. 

On the coffee table, the shadow cast by the bottle is drawn out by the setting sun. Looking at the bouquet of camellias and thinking about the chance encounter in the afternoon, my heart suddenly stirs. 

MC: Victor, the reason you were there today... Was it because you received the gift, thought about how we went to the camellia garden before, and wanted to revisit it?

Victor: You’ve finally come around.

My lips curl up in satisfaction.

MC: When you first received the gift, did you feel astonished, surprised, and touched?

Victor: ...I received your fevered imagination. 

Victor: But I was slightly touched. 

Victor: Just like what you said in the afternoon, this gift cut across time and awakened past memories and feelings. 

I lift my head. The world before me has shrunk infinitely, and can only accommodate his smiling eyes, and the tiny me reflected in them.

With such close proximity, the surroundings seem to be dyed with Victor’s unique scent, causing my heart to feel warm and contented.

Victor: Although Future Mail is uncommon, whether it’s Future Mail or express mail, they are all just mediums. 

Victor: The feelings they contain - that's the important thing. 

Victor: This unexpected gift... just like what you intended when you sent it, enables me to sense your feelings.

Victor: To me, that is its significance.

I blink, smiling with great happiness. 

MC: Come to think of it, I also want to receive the feelings given to me from someone...

As the colours of the afterglow grow heavier, Victor’s side profile is layered with a soft halo.

Just when I think he has nothing more to say, Victor’s lips curve into a smile.

Victor: Perhaps you can look forward to it. 

MC: Hm? Look forward to what? 

With this, he stands up and heads into the kitchen. No matter how much I probe, he remains indifferent. Resigned, I have no choice but to give up.

The faint yellow light of the kitchen illuminates Victor’s shoulders. Basking in the warm halo, the air surrounding him is especially tender. 

-

A month passes by quickly, and the Future Mail event is completed successfully.

On this early morning, I suddenly receive a package. When I remove the plastic covering, there’s an envelope with a heart-shaped postmark on top of the gift box. 

My heartbeat stutters out of rhythm.

Carefully opening the box, I see a videotape and a photograph. Picking up the photograph, I’m greeted by familiar, bold handwriting:

“Looks like you should have received this Future Mail. Apart from supporting your event, I’m only going to do this once. This will not be repeated. The things I want to say to you are all in this videotape. It only belongs to you.”

Morning sunlight filters in through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom floor, and also gently illuminating my heart...

-

Calls: First // Second

[tenspontaneite]

The Ceracurist (Chapter 3/?)

Even after these past months, she wasn’t yet used to it. Another Full Moon spent alone.

(Chapter length: 10.4k. ao3 link)

---

“Did you go to the game night?” Was Ethari’s first question when she called him the next day.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, Ethari.”

He looked delighted. “Did you make friends?”

She hesitated, thinking about it. “…Well, I did beat them all at Antiquitora,” she said eventually. “And you were right, they did appreciate that.” She paused, and added “I’m probably going back, I think.”

She spent the next ten minutes having details pried out of her so warmly and kindly it hardly felt like an interrogation at all. Ethari was good at that. Finally she secured her escape via the need to leave for training, and was farewelled with considerably less fretting than usual. When the call dropped, she was about to shut down the Sunbeam module entirely, but then-

New Contact Requests, said the alert in the corner. Rayla blinked, nonplussed, and opened it, already having a decent idea of what she’d find. Sure enough, there were three new requests from codes she recognised: Kazi, Nihatasi, and Callum. She lingered there for a while, feeling bizarrely overwhelmed, then finally accepted all three of them.

She didn’t linger by the computer, after that – she had training to get to. Rayla paused at the door to perform a final once-over of her armour, then grabbed her swords and left.

 ---

 Rayla stumbled back into her room in late afternoon, covered in about three different kinds of mud and her body aching all-over in the aftermath of prolonged exertion. She spent the next two hours with rigid discipline: cleaning herself, cleaning her armour, checking her weapons. She cooked unenthusiastically and ate, then finally felt justified in utter collapse. She landed face-first into her bed and fell asleep immediately.

Three hours later, she woke to a stirring of magic in her veins, prickling over her skin, all the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, and pushed herself up; every hint of soreness from training was completely gone. She turned her eyes to the window, staring at the Moon rising full and resplendent past the horizon. Something deep and instinctive in her delighted at the sight of it. But something else twisted, sharp with the pang of homesickness.

Even after these past months, she wasn’t yet used to it. Another Full Moon spent alone. She sighed, and tried not to think of the festivities that would surely be beginning back home. It was moonrise; Ethari and Runaan would be at the Circle by now. Had the dancing already started? With the Moon this high, it must have.

She stared unblinkingly out of the window, turning thoughts over and over in her head. It wasn’t right to be alone at Full Moon. It wasn’t right to spend it all indoors, either. She couldn’t do much about the first thing, but the second…

Silent, Rayla slipped outside. A few of her wingmates were out in the common room, chattering drunkenly with each other near the table. She blinked, slowly, and exhaled. When she passed, they didn’t see her; only started with surprise at the open and close of the door. She crept through the streets like a ghost, visiting each of the parks and training grounds in turn until she finally found one unoccupied: a small stand of well-kept trees, and a fountain that reflected the full body of the Moon in its burbling waters. It would do.

It was no Circle. There were no runes in the ground – nothing here that awaited the careful precision of the lunar dances, nothing that would light up at her passing. But it was better than nothing. Rayla pulled at the moonlight until she was nothing but shadows flickering in the shadows of the trees, and danced.

There were plenty of moondances that could be done alone, and she circled the fountain with all of them, one by one. A tracery of magic hummed in the air at her passing, whispers of light following her; magic summoned by her motions, without the guidance of a Circle’s shaping. Even formless and aimless, it was beautiful. So, for the pleasure of it, she spun through those motes of moonlight and held them flickering in the shadows of her skin; light and dark woven together.

When she was done, she felt…not joyous, maybe, or exhilarated, as a celebration back home might have left her. But she was satisfied. Calm, and a little less sad. With the Full Moon still high above her, its magic brimming in her veins, Rayla headed home once more.

She didn’t bother to hide herself this time, and when she came through the door and passed by the remaining wingmates still up and awake, they saw her perfectly well: skin night-dark, eyes glowing, the edges of her form blurring into the shadows. They were all of them Sunfire and Skywing, and went a little quiet as she went by them; she wondered if they’d ever seen one of her kind at Full Moon before. Somehow, she doubted it.

Finally, Rayla arrived at her door, disarmed its security, and closed it behind her. She sighed, standing for a moment in the moonlight through her window, and considered it. Sleep would be a lost cause for another few hours, probably. So, somewhat inevitably, she ended up checking the computer. Browsing the mageskein was probably the best way to kill a few hours, and it wasn’t like she had anything else to do, this time of night.

Except: her Sunbeam module was still on, humming inside its casing, and…when she looked, it had projected a few message alerts onto the screen. Hesitantly, she checked them.

One was from Ethari, wishing her a good Moon, and entreating her once again to visit a Circle for it. Somewhat belated, that. One was from Kazi, confirming the time of their rematch tomorrow, as well as the address. Nihatasi had sent another, packed with effusive praise for her gaming excellence, insistence that she return, and an offer to come by the house whenever she wanted. Rayla shook her head at that, reluctantly amused. It wasn’t as though she’d met many nomads before – not in a social setting, anyway – but so far, Nihatasi more than matched their reputation for being aggressively sociable.

The last message was from Callum, and she steadfastly pretended that she wasn’t any more interested in it than the rest. He’d cheerfully thanked her for coming to the game night, said he hoped she’d come again, and then made an inquiry about her gaming tastes. Did she play computer games? If so, which were her favourites?

With the slow, halting uncertainty of the socially awkward, Rayla responded to all of them except Ethari’s. Kazi’s was easy enough, she just had to say ‘thanks’ and ‘see you tomorrow’. The other two took more doing. To Nihatasi, she expressed her thanks, and her assurances that she intended to come to a game night again. She said nothing about the house visit. To Callum, she reiterated her intentions to return, and admitted that, yes, she did like computer games, but hadn’t had the opportunity to play many of them, for lack of the necessary modules or a computer with the right specifications.  

Given the hour, she certainly didn’t expect any response, so she switched active modules to the mageskein to start browsing. News headlines on the home site vied for her attention: something about the outcome of the latest Katolis-Evenere expedition into the wastelands; the most recent public appearance of the Dragon Prince with his esteemed parents; a gossip piece about some Katolian royal’s birthday. She checked the second one for images, and sure enough, there he was: the young prince Azymondias, still tiny in comparison to his queen mother…and, in the background, a few Dragonguard standing at the ready. Rayla spotted her parents and smiled. She clicked to transfer the picture through its Sunbeam link and waited.

The other module hummed, her computer making distressed noises as it attempted juggling the inputs of Sunbeam and Mageskein at once. The unit at home wouldn’t have had any trouble, but this one…she sighed, and waited, and was eventually rewarded when her Sunbeam successfully imported the image and displayed it full-fidelity, with all the depth and nuance of lighting that a flat picture could never convey. She filed it away, and was about to switch back, when she saw the alert.

A new message. At this hour? It had to be at least two in the morning by now, surely. She checked her clock to be sure, and, yep. 2:14am. She eyed the icon with consternation, then opened it.

Callum had responded. She stared, brow furrowing as she read. Hey, glad to hear back from you! He opened, cheerfully failing to acknowledge the fact that it was currently stupidly late. The rest of it was perfectly normal too; commiserating about her lack of access to proper computing, commenting that yeah, I didn’t get to play any EX games until I moved here, and you know what WX graphics are like, and which ones did you get to play? Any I’d know about?

Rayla reread its entirety several times, mildly flummoxed. At Full Moon her emotions were all closer to the surface than usual, so there was an undeniable thread of glee in her chest about this unexpected late-night contact, but…well, she was curious. In her limited experience with the ways of other students, the only reasons a non-Moonshadow would be up this late would be ‘partying’ or ‘insomnia’. Or ‘last-minute coursework’, but that was unlikely to apply when term was already over. So: You’re up late, she wrote, without thinking about it, and sent it back without responding to any of his actual questions. She’d begun composing a belated second message, but apparently Callum was a lot speedier with typing than she was.

Haha, yeah, I kind of lost track of time. Gaming, incidentally. She thought he must be used to significantly faster systems and transfer times than she was, because that was the entirety of that message, and then he sent another one: What about you? What are you doing up?

Rayla blinked, then settled herself a little more comfortably in her chair, since it seemed like, well. Like there might be a conversation happening, here. She brought the keyboard further forward. It’s Full Moon, she responded to him, a little dryly. Her computer took its sweet time about sending the message, as usual.

Oh. It is? After a pause, during which he presumably looked out of a window or something, he said Huh. So it is. Does it keep you awake?

She paused. Kind of, she wrote, slowly, and then wasn’t quite sure how much more to divulge. Eventually, she wrote It’s kind of hard to sleep through when it’s still high. I’ll be okay in a couple hours.

That must be so cool, he answered, which seemed a weird thing to say to a statement of Moon-induced insomnia. I’ve used artefacts to cast moon-magic before, but it must feel totally different when you’ve got the arcanum. What’s it like?

Rayla stared at her screen. She recalled the implications of him being a mage student, and was suddenly brimming with curiosity. I don’t know, I’m not a mage, she wrote, and then paused. Do you cast a lot of artefact magic, or was that a one-time thing?

She probably should have just outright asked about the mage student thing, rather than trying to be cagey about it. He probably wouldn’t have minded. Except, that turned out to be unnecessary, because the next thing he wrote, as if it were perfectly natural and unsurprising, was Well, I’m doing a thaumaturgy / thaumatology masters, so I definitely cast a lot of magic, yeah. Then, while she was still gawping at that, he followed it up with Listen, do you want to call?

What? She sent back, astonished, still in the middle of trying to process the concept of a human thaumaturgy student. She couldn’t quite get her head around it. How did that even work?

It’s okay if you don’t, he clarified. But your Sunbeam seems to have kind of a lot of connection lag, so it’d probably be faster to talk, you know?

Rayla was, in fact, using a fairly old edition of the Sunbeam module, which did have to establish a new connection for every individual message it sent and received. It was what was cheapest, and the lag was just…an unavoidable side-effect. She called more often than she messaged anyway, so it was rarely relevant. Except, apparently, now. It’s two in the morning, Callum, she sent to him, bewildered.

And we’re both awake, he pointed out, as if it was perfectly reasonable to call someone you’d only met twice before in the middle of the night.

Her first instinct, fuelled by bemusement and social anxiety, was to say no. Her second instinct was quick to the scene, with some very definite opinions about interacting with Callum, even at as weird an hour as this. She hesitated, wavering.

In the end, it was a glance at the Moon through the window that decided her. Rayla was emphatically not a mystical person, but even so, there were things that were deeply culturally ingrained. And one of those things was Full Moon is community time. Family, or friends, or a wider community – it didn’t really matter, but you weren’t supposed to be alone. This…probably counted.

Yeah, okay, she typed in the end, foot tapping under the desk with a frisson of tension. But only for a bit.

He didn’t waste any time about it, just sent the call request. Rayla took a quick moment to check she hadn’t made a mess of herself dancing, realised it was something of a moot point when everything attached to her was veiled in shadows, and finally accepted the call.

Callum’s room was startlingly brightly-lit when it appeared in the monitor, and it hurt her eyes a bit. She blinked rapidly, fighting the urge to squint, and glimpsed what looked like a well-appointed loft room with an unexpectedly dense population of easels. She could see at least three of them, most of which occupied by some sort of paper or canvas. She blinked, nonplussed, then steadfastly did not react when his face came into view. It moved around jarringly as he adjusted the lightcatcher, then finally settled.

He grinned at the screen, looking sleepy but in good enough humour, and said “Hey! Wow your room is dark.”

Rayla opened her mouth, closed it, then blinked. “Oh, right, your eyes,” she said, embarrassed. She generally only ever called her family, whose night vision was perfectly equal to hers. Humans, as well as most other elf races, were not nearly as well-suited for the dark. “Can you even see anything?”

“I can see your eyes,” he volunteered helpfully, looking amused. “They’re glowing. Really brightly, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s the Full Moon,” Rayla told him, already standing to go for the switch of the wall lamp over her desk. She’d never actually had cause to use it before, other than testing it when she first moved in, so the soft blue light it produced was almost wholly unfamiliar. “Is that better?” She asked, moving back to her chair.

“Well, I can actually see your room now, so-“ he started, then cut off abruptly as she settled back down in front of the lightcatcher. “Oh, wow,” he said instead as he stared at her, eyes wide.

Rayla ignored the self-conscious twinge in her stomach and frowned at him, folding her arms. “What?” she demanded.

He startled, as if only just realising what he’d said. “Oh. Um, sorry?” he attempted, weakly. “It’s just – I’ve never seen a Moonshadow elf all, er…” he waved expressively at her, contrite. “You know, Full Moon-ish?”

Oh. She eyed him, determined that he wasn’t messing with her, and relaxed a little. “What, not even in the Honour Games?” She asked, after a moment.

“Well, I mean, sometimes. But that’s usually in broad daylight, you know, and from a distance, and broadcasted.” He shrugged, a light dusting of pink rising in his cheeks, like he was embarrassed. “Kind of different to…” he nodded to her via the lightcatcher, smiling sheepishly.

“Suppose it is a tad different to a close-up Sunbeam call,” she conceded, lips twitching.

“I should’ve expected it, really, considering it’s full moon and everything,” he said ruefully. “Sorry, I’m not exactly at my brightest at two in the morning.”

Oh, that was right. It was the middle of the night. She squinted at him. “Then shouldn’t you be sleeping, instead of sunbeaming random Moonshadow elves?”

“Well, you’re up,” he said, as if this was a perfectly logical reason for him to be awake too. “And it’s not like I have to be up early.”

Lucky for him. She thought of the training and the Antiquitora rematch she had scheduled for the day, and suppressed a sigh. It was sometimes truly inconvenient to live in a mixed-race city that didn’t automatically expect the day after Full Moon (and the day of and before New Moon, of course) to be a rest day. “Wish I could say the same.”

He winced sympathetically. “Can you not cancel whatever it is?”

She opened her mouth to say no, stopped, and frowned. She hadn’t yet missed training even once. But…it wasn’t like attending every session was compulsory. And she did train three other times a week…and besides, a Sunday morning short session had never fallen on Full Moon recovery day before. “Probably, honestly,” she admitted. “My – uncle wouldn’t even tell me off for it. Moonshadow elves aren’t supposed to work the day after a Full Moon.”

“Because none of you can get to sleep the whole night?” He asked with interest, as if the cultural habits of her kind were genuinely intriguing to him. “Makes sense, I guess.”

Rayla huffed and shook her head. “Kinda. Mostly it’s because, traditionally, we’re supposed to spend moonrise to moonset with – family, or the community, or whatever. And we’re not much good for anything except collapsing once the Moon’s gone. So we all take the next day off.”

He blinked at her curiously, but if he wondered why she wasn’t currently out spending the Moon with her rightful community, he was tactful enough not to ask. “You should skip your thing, then. Whatever it is,” he determined, after a moment. “Get some actual sleep.”

“Says you,” Rayla said, wry. “You don’t even have a stupid magical reason to be up this late.”

“Does a technomantic game count as a stupid magical reason?” He grinned at her, his smile lopsided and full of humour. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop. “I mean. It is magical.”

Despite herself, she snorted. “And it is stupid,” she allowed, lips twitching. “As far as reasons to be sleep-deprived go, anyway.”

“Worth it,” he claimed, cheerfully. “I don’t have work till the afternoon anyway, so I’m fine.”

Rayla nodded at that, then a moment later actually recalled what his job was, and practically felt her face heating. Thank the Moon – literally – for her skin currently being too dark to show it.

He noticed some sort of reaction, though. Maybe her shoulders had hunched a bit. He tilted his head at her, a little rueful, and said “Yeah, er, about that. I wanted to apologise, for the others talking about it, yesterday? Couldn’t have been super comfortable.”

Abruptly hyper-aware of the weight and presence of her horns, Rayla did her best not to sink into the chair. “…It’s fine,” she muttered, embarrassed. “It’s not like you told them about it, they just guessed.”

“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t tell them about who my customers were unless my customers said something about it first,” he assured her. “Not really professional, you know? We’re supposed to be confidential about it.” Suddenly, he smiled again. “Then again, it’s not like I usually end up meeting my customers at game night, so that part tends to be easier to manage.”

“Usually?” she asked dryly, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to lift her hands and hide her face behind them.

“No, yeah, you’re definitely the first time that’s happened,” he admitted. “It was kind of a surprise.”

She thought about how she’d reacted to seeing him appear through that door yesterday. “Just a tad.”

“A good one, though!” he claimed, cheerful. “It was nice to meet you properly.”

Rayla was tempted to say something along the lines of you know, where I come from, touching up someone’s horns is considerably more than a ‘proper’ meeting, but that was too mortifying to express, and he probably knew it anyway. She couldn’t imagine anyone becoming an experienced ceracurist without learning all the assorted implications that sort of thing had. “Even though I kicked your Archdragon across the board?” She questioned eventually, when she found her voice again.

“Even though you totally kicked my butt, yeah,” he agreed readily, looking far too pleased about it. “It was a great match. You’re crazy good at that game.”

An involuntary smile pulled at her lips. “Well, Kazi’s better,” she said, pleased despite herself. “They’d have had me easily, if they weren’t playing Ocean.”

He didn’t argue with her. Clearly, he understood the game plenty well enough to know the truth of that. “Still the second-best player I’ve met,” he insisted staunchly. “Is Antiquitora one of the computer games you said you did play? You must’ve put in some serious practice time.”

Rayla snorted. “I wish. No, the only games I ever actually got to play were on a gameship, just the one time, when I was…” she frowned, trying to remember. “Thirteen, maybe? Good long while ago.”

He perked up, expression brightening. “I love gameships,” he enthused. “There’s one that comes by Gullcrest twice a year, and I swear, all the students in the entire engineering department just disappear on board until it leaves. It’s crazy.” After a moment, he admitted “Well, to be fair, I disappear on board too, so, you know. It’s not like I can judge.”

She blinked, and leaned forwards. “What clan is the ship?” She asked, with considerable interest.

“It’s a joint management. Serat-Demani,” he said, watching her knowingly.

“Moon above,” she swore, and he grinned.

“Right?” Looking exceedingly pleased with her reaction, he took that as his cue to go into extensive, exacting detail about the wonders that a fully-stocked, state-of-the-art Demani entertainment airship had to offer. She listened raptly the entire time, interjecting with questions about the rates, the facilities, the games. If it was a Demani ship, it had to have Skycrawler, surely? What was it like? Was the gameplay everything it was said to be?

In the end, Rayla didn’t think she could really be blamed for losing track of time.

Callum was in the middle of enthusiastically praising Scion of Shadow, with particular attention to its unusually enjoyable stealth mechanics, when out of nowhere a yawn cracked through his sentence. He seemed fully ready to keep on talking once it was done, but Rayla sat up a little straighter, and for the first time in a while remembered that it was the middle of the night. She consulted her Moon-sense, and then the clock, and then buried her face in her hands.

He cut off mid-sentence, inquisitive. “What?”

“Callum, it’s nearly four in the morning,” she informed him, lowering her hands to stare at the clock, consumed with a baleful sense of having been betrayed by the passage of time.  “The sun’s probably not even far off rising.”

He blinked, looked to the side, then blinked again. “…Huh,” he observed, a little sheepish. “Yeah, that’s…later than I usually stay up.”

“It’s later than I usually stay up, even on Full Moons.” Technically true, for the ones she’d spent at university. At home, though…moonset was, after all, later than sunrise in summer. Full Moon celebrations usually concluded once everyone’s skin was back to normal, but not always.

Callum shot her a weird look, long and appraising, before he spoke. “You’re still all…Moon-shadowy, though.”

“That won’t stop for a while yet,” she informed him, and shook her head. “I can probably get to sleep by now, anyway. Or another hour off, at most. You…” For a moment, she inspected him, spotting the signs of tiredness in his bearing. “You won’t have that problem, I think. You look knackered.”

He offered a rueful smile. “I’ll probably pass out the second I lay down, yeah,” he admitted. “I kind of lost track of time. Again.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I’ll just go now, then, so you can’t get distracted again.”

Hastily, he sat bolt upright. “But there was something I wanted to-“

“Tomorrow,” she told him, firmly. “Or…today, technically. Later, anyway. Whatever it is can wait.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled sleepily at her. It looked far more endearing than it had any right to. “Well, okay then.”

Rayla nodded to him, said “Thanks,” then leaned in and shut the call down without a further word. Sunbeam’s active connection died down, Callum’s face disappearing from the screen, and she leaned back in her chair to fix the ceiling with a long-suffering stare.

On one hand, Ethari would’ve probably been delighted to hear she’d spent a couple hours of her Full Moon socialising, as a proper Moonshadow elf ought to. But on the other….Ethari could absolutely never, ever find out about this. If he knew she’d been up chatting with someone, losing track of time, for actual hours…she’d never hear the end of it. To say nothing of how he’d react if he got wind that she – that she might sort of-

“Ugh,” Rayla grumbled to herself, wiping a hand over her face.

She stared at the ceiling for a good long while, experiencing a variety of emotions that she wasn’t keen on thinking about too hard. She also spent a not inconsiderable amount of time thinking about the conversation, running it over in her head, thoughts stubbornly fixed on Callum. This was how she ended up realising that she’d never actually asked about the mage-student-thing, and she still had no idea how that worked.

“Ugh,” she said again, more emphatically, and finally left her chair. She left her room to perform some necessary ablutions in the bathroom she shared with the next room over, then returned to draw the curtains. Without the direct moonlight through her window, the magic in her skin started to stutter a little. In ten minutes or so, she’d be back to normal again…and, with luck, she might be asleep by then.

Begrudgingly, Rayla peeled herself out of her clothes and threw them haphazardly onto the floor, not even bothering to watch the magic desert them, and climbed into bed. A suboptimal amount of time later, she was asleep.

 ---

 “Goodness, you look tired,” said Kazi, welcoming Rayla in. Rayla, for her part, was a little too exhausted to feel particularly awkward, which was nice. “Was the Full Moon particularly trying?”

Rayla’s lips twitched. At least this one knew when Full Moon was. “No more than usual,” she said dryly, bending to remove her shoes when Kazi made noises about it. “Just, you know, getting enough sleep is kind of a lost cause.”

“Oh, I know the feeling. Or at least somewhat,” they commiserated, leading her through to a small and cosy-looking living room lined with bookshelves, and then through to a somewhat larger dining room, whose table was…occupied. Very thoroughly occupied. Rayla tried not to look at it too closely until she had a chance to inspect it properly. “There was a solar flare a few years ago, and of course I and the other Sunfire elves couldn’t sleep for days. It was quite the experience! And I’m sure you know how the Skywing elves get when there’s a particularly powerful storm abound.”

She had, in fact, had occasion to see what Skywing elves looked like when they were storm-drunk. It had been funny, up until it got annoying. “Probably more of a pain for them and you, really, since none of you take anything like moondust,” she volunteered after a moment, mouth turning up with wry sympathy. She’d hate to be a Skywing and be subject to random, unpredictable bouts of their equivalent of being moonstruck. “You all get the full effect of it.”

Kazi looked a little curious at that, but didn’t ask. “Yes, I suppose so. We should be thankful our magical overload is not so consistent as it is for you. In any case-“ they gestured towards the table. “Please take a seat wherever you prefer! Would you like any stimulants?”

Rayla blinked. “…Could you repeat that?”

“Tea,” they clarified, eyes merry with humour. “Or perhaps reveillant, or coffee, by your preference. I have all three, in some measure.”

For a moment she’d wondered if she was being offered something illegal, which…looking at Kazi, she was quite sure had been on purpose. She shook her head, reluctantly amused, and said “I could try some reveillant? I’ve only had it once.”

“It is not especially common, in a Skywing city like this,” Kazi allowed, already heading in the direction of one of the doorways. They kept speaking as they disappeared through it, still perfectly audible to her ears. “But I always keep a supply. It’s the only one that tastes particularly good cold, after all, unless you are very creative with your teas.” There was the sound of a cupboard opening, and then a good bit of rummaging.

During the wait, Rayla cautiously selected a seat at the table and settled there, finally letting her increasingly wide eyes rove over the board set up across it. She was still gawping conspicuously when Kazi returned, brandishing three brown paper packets of what she assumed to be reveillant.

“Do you prefer unflavoured, citrus, or mixed berry varieties?” they inquired mildly, hiding a smile when they saw her inspecting the board.

“Er, berry?” Rayla offered, only half paying attention. She was too busy looking at the intricate detail on the hand-carved and probably hideously valuable Antiquitora board. There were no pieces on it yet, but even just the tiles…it was astonishing. All of the terrain had been dyed and varnished in different colours, with careful attention to the different biomes. It all gleamed. The ocean tiles had even been coated in some kind of resin, making them look wet. The artisan had even mimicked the effect of the edge of an underwater continental shelf seen from above, with an area of lighter ‘water’ closer to the ‘coastline’.

“Berry it is,” Kazi said, sounding quite smug. Rayla didn’t have the chance to see what their face looked like, because they’d already disappeared back into what she assumed was the kitchen. She spent the next five minutes of beverage preparation time inspecting the game board with undisguised admiration. Rayla wasn’t one to usually pay much attention to art, but…this was game related art. It was different.

“The set you brought to the game night wasn’t your one set, then,” Rayla finally commented, when Kazi reappeared. She accepted her cup with exacting care, not wanting to risk a drink spillage near a board like this. She was honestly surprised Kazi allowed drinks so close to this thing.

Kazi smiled, disproportionately small for the amount of self-satisfaction in it. “Yes, it’s my more portable set,” they said pleasantly, and took a seat across the table from her, setting down their own glass. “This one…well, I certainly do not take it out of the house.”

“I can imagine,” she expressed, uncertain whether to be jealous of the board or just plain impressed. She wouldn’t even want something this pricey. She’d constantly be worrying about damaging it somehow. But, even so…the hint of avarice remained. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The various tile-pieces and figures are quite a sight themselves, I think,” they said, evidently extremely pleased with themself. Rayla wondered how many people they invited round for Antiquitora for the express purpose of showing off this set. “Have you decided your faction for today? Once we have that settled, we can begin setting up.”

Rayla snorted, lips turning up into a half-smirk. “Depends what you’re playing as.”

Kazi beamed back. “Do you have a preference? I am perfectly open to suggestions.”

She considered it. Allegedly, Kazi was most beastly when playing Earth or Sun. Rayla herself was best at Moon and Sky…and Sky was exceptionally poorly matched against Earth. Sun’s best counters were Earth and Ocean. Moon wasn’t great against Sun, but not terrible either. “Take Sun,” she decided, eventually. “I’ll do Moon. I want to see for myself how much you wipe the board with everyone when you get to play properly.”

If Kazi had been smiling before, they looked positively frightening now. Not that their smile had widened, or anything; they just seemed to have a way of looking disconcertingly menacing while beaming pleasantly at you. “I will do my best to arrange that,” they said, and reached for three boxes: Moon, Sun, and the tiles and dice and cards.

Setting up would have gone more quickly if not for Rayla’s interest in inspecting the various gamepieces, and Kazi’s interest in flaunting them. Most of the units, from citizens to mages, were all carved in beautifully varnished wood. The Hero and Archdragon figures, though… “Is that gemstone inlay?” Rayla asked with disbelief, inspecting her Lunar Archdragon and turning it this way and that.

“The Lunar Archdragon has mother-of-pearl inlay, in fact,” Kazi said pleasantly. “And, yes, some very small gemstones for the eyes.”

She shook her head at that, half-impressed, half in disbelief. “Where did you even get this?”

“It’s an heirloom,” they elaborated, which made sense. The only other way for someone to have a set like this would be by being ridiculously rich, or by knowing an insanely skilled craftself. “Hence why it has the standardised continent shape. It does need fairly careful maintenance, though. I paid to have some of the varnishing redone recently, for example. But for me, the joy of owning a set like this is well-worth the upkeep.”

Rayla nodded. It wasn’t her sort of thing, personally, but she understood well enough. “I bet you try to get people over to play you every chance you get,” she said, amused. “With a board like this…”

“It would be quite a shame otherwise, yes,” they agreed. “I must thank you for obliging me! This board so rarely sees a high-level game.”

She huffed, amused, and kept unpacking the gamepieces one-by-one. Kazi had to know that they were the better player. If she’d barely beaten them when they were playing Ocean and underestimating her for most of the game, she certainly wasn’t going to win now. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Eventually, when everything was set up, they rolled the starting conditions and began playing. Kazi very obviously knew what they were doing with the primary advantages of the Sun faction – agriculture, population, and military might – but Rayla was perfectly well acquainted with a proper Moon playstyle as well. She leaned into the espionage and intrigue skillset as heavily as she could manage, wreaking political strife in Kazi’s territory wherever she found an opening. When Kazi could find them, her units died; but that certainly wasn’t always.

Even so, the outcome was something of a foregone conclusion. The game lasted a while, because Rayla knew that her main defence against the Sun armies was if they couldn’t find the Moon cities, and planned accordingly…but Rayla hadn’t succeeded in assassinating the Archdragon, and hadn’t managed to get the Sun citizenry to demand a leadership duel either. So, unsurprisingly, Kazi eventually managed to field an assault that broke through the illusory barriers protecting Rayla’s stronghold, striking at her Archdragon precisely on the turn before New Moon. It died of its injuries the turn later.

Rayla considered the board carefully after that. Her best chances of winning against Sun would be crop poisoning, Archdragon assassinating, leadership disputes, or revolution. She’d managed the first and had been making decent headway on the latter two, but, in the end…it wasn’t close enough. She smiled ruefully, and said “Moon concedes.”

They nodded, having expected that, and smiled beatifically. “It was a marvellous game,” they said warmly, already reaching over to begin clearing the pieces. “Thank you very much for it.”

“I don’t know, it was a pretty solid victory for you.” Her voice was dry as she reached out to help, handling each of the intricately-carved figures with care. “You’re obviously the better player, here.”

“Yes,” they agreed, neither modestly nor boastfully, simply as the fact it was. “But nonetheless, you are certainly the best player I’ve encountered in-person in a very long time. Certainly the only one I didn’t arrange to meet with beforehand. It was a good game, no matter that you lost it.”

Rayla dipped her head, smiling a little. It wasn’t like she enjoyed losing…but she’d appreciated the challenge enough to make up for it. She’d ceased finding any sort of challenge back home a long, long time ago. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

Kazi reached for another piece, paused, then eyed her consideringly. “Would you…like to discuss it?” they asked, tilting their head, watching her.

She glanced up, surprised. It was hardly an unfamiliar concept. She’d watched enough matches broadcast on Sunbeam to know how it went; when two top-tier players concluded a match, they talked about it afterwards. They discussed each other’s plays and strategies, pointed out mistakes, considered where there was room for improvement…

The only after-game discussions she’d ever had had been at Runaan’s knee, when she was still small and didn’t know the game nearly as well. It was weirdly flattering to be invited to do it now.

“…Yeah,” Rayla said, eventually, and sat back down. “I’d like that.”

Kazi beamed like the Sun they’d just used to trounce her. “Very good.”

The next half hour involved more talking than Rayla thought she’d done at a time in months…or, well, she would’ve said so, if not for last night. It was certainly a good second-place contender though, and by the end her voice was feeling a little tired from overuse. They concluded the discussion, packed away the gamepieces and board, and then were done.

“But of course, you must stay for another drink,” Kazi said, and whisked her empty glass of reveillant away. “You liked the berry infusion, yes? Excellent, I will get you another.” Good to their word, they did precisely that, and returned in short order.

Rayla did feel a little more awake, on that second glass of the reveillant. It was effective stuff; as much or more so than coffee, with (in her opinion) a considerably better taste. She was debating the merits of asking Kazi where they got it when they spoke up first.

“You’ll be returning, I hope?” they said, and it took Rayla a moment to think of what they meant.

“….Here?” she guessed. “For a rematch?”

“Well, yes, naturally.” Kazi pushed their glasses up, smiling a little. “I had assumed as much. But, no, I was referring to the game society. You’d be an excellent fit, I think.”

Rayla blinked. “Oh.” She thought of the previous night, and hunched down a little in embarrassment.

“I know it was only a very small group when you visited, but I have the impression you prefer that, anyway,” they said, neatly demonstrating that they were as unnervingly good at reading her as she’d sort of inferred. “It can get rowdier in term time – at least at the official meetings. The meet-ups at our houses are much calmer – usually just the core group.”

“Which is?” Rayla asked, a little reserved now, if only to disguise the fact that she really didn’t need convincing. She might have, after just the Friday. But after this…after yesterday…

“Myself, Callum, Nihatasi. Usually Pava, but often he spends the whole time tinkering instead of playing.” They shook their head, amused. “In term time – well, usually I’d say to expect Evairas, but he is spectacularly busy these days, so perhaps not.”

“…They sent messages,” she commented, after a moment. “Callum and Nihatasi, I mean. Pava didn’t.”

“Pava tends to forget Sunbeam exists for weeks at a time, don’t mind him,” Kazi assured her. “Nihatasi and Callum though, I’m not at all surprised. Nihatasi adores new people, and Callum…” they eyed her, just a little speculatively. “Well, I think you impressed him. Has he invited you to Tuesday, yet?”

Rayla blinked with consternation. “Invited me to what on Tuesday?”

“Game meeting, at the house,” they clarified. “It’s hardly an official thing, but it’s often Callum’s house that has everyone over. He hasn’t invited you over, yet? Well, he will. I am quite sure of it.”

For a long moment, she looked into her glass and the dark red liquid therein, pondering it as if it held all the answers for how she was supposed to respond. “If you say so,” she said, finally, and lifted her glass to drink.

“I do,” Kazi claimed serenely, and gracefully changed the topic to (naturally) more about Antiquitora. By the time Rayla finished her drink, she’d learned that Kazi played broadcast games online fairly regularly, under a handle that she recognised; she’d watched a good few of their games before.

“Is there a story behind that skein-name?” she asked, undeniably curious now that she was acquainted with the elf behind it. “’Finguistician’.”

Kazi laughed, like she’d surprised them. “Oh, that,” they said, mirthfully. “It’s something of an in-joke. You see, I have my doctorate in Linguistics – specifically, in non-verbal linguistics. Various sign languages, Draconic Corpus, and so on. I made a joke once, when I was still an undergraduate in a sign-language module, that the course should be called finguistics, given, well,” they waggled their fingers at her.

She snorted, amused. “Did it catch on?”

“Sadly, no. But I do call my sign language classes for the public ‘finguistics’, and no one can stop me, because I am the teacher.” They giggled a little to themself. “Perhaps in time it will become a more widely-used term. I would like that; it would be very amusing. In any case, that is where the handle comes from.”

Rayla thought, for a moment, about a moment from the game night: Kazi and Callum had used some sort of sign language with each other for a second, hadn’t they? She considered asking about it, wondering what his background in that was. Did he take any of Kazi’s lessons, or had he learned some other way?

In the end, she bit her tongue and said nothing. After a little more idle conversation, she eventually made her leave, farewelled at the door by her cheerful host. Without the game to bolster her, she swiftly began to really feel her exhaustion. Stimulants or not, she was so tired that a headache was starting to pound luridly behind her eyes, almost enough to make them water.

She headed home intending to collapse back into bed and nap – if the lingering effects of the drinks allowed her to, anyway. Which was why she was considerably displeased to arrive back to find her wing busy and full of noise and various elves milling about. The halls were crowded. She was about to say “What the fuck”, or perhaps “Shut up, do you know how bad my headache is right now”, but before she had the chance one of the closest elves (some wingmate she didn’t know the name of) spotted her and shouted down the hall “It’s her, she’s here, she’s not dead!”

All eyes went to her, and an immediate chattering started up. Rayla stared, utterly nonplussed, fighting the urge to pull on the Moon and take advantage of a state of near-invisibility to just retreat to her nice, privacy-sealed bedroom. The noise cancellation ought to take care of this racket.

After a few seconds, a face she actually had a name for pushed forwards. It was Stavian, a Skywing elf from her bellatorium, still in armour from training. “Rayla,” he said, sounding very relieved. “Thank goodness, we were about to call for an official search!”

Rayla had no idea what was happening. “What in Xadia’s name is going on here?” she demanded, finally, and her irate tone seemed to remind him that he (for some reason) customarily seemed to be quite intimidated by her. He shrank back a little, and as he did, a few of the rest of the Honour Games team started to appear.

“You didn’t show up for training!” he said, defensively. “And from anyone else that wouldn’t be much of a big deal, but you’ve never missed a day before. And then when we went to check on you afterwards you weren’t here.”

“And none of your wingmates knew where you were,” added one of her teammates: Fiera, a particularly tiny Skywing mage with hair and feathers dyed a distinctive lilac colour.

Rayla stared for a few more seconds, then wiped a hand over her face. “It was Full Moon,” she said, very slowly, her patience already somewhere on level with the floor. “I didn’t get to sleep till around five; of course I wasn’t going to go to morning training.” She ignored the fact that, if not for Callum, she absolutely would have. He’d been right; it was completely reasonable to miss training on a Full Moon rest day, and if they had a problem with that they could bite her.

The vast collective of people assembled in the halls all looked very embarrassed, suddenly. And honestly, they should be. Moonshadow elves were definitely uncommon in Gullcrest, but surely someone should have known it was Full Moon, and made the obvious conclusions. “Oh,” said Fiera, weakly. Her wings drooped a little. “That…makes sense.”

Now looking very abashed, Stavian echoed “Oh.” The crowd of assorted wingmates and guests, probably attracted by the initial hubbub, started to grumble and dissipate.

Rayla sighed, and rubbed at her eyes, attempting to scrounge some sort of positive emotion from beneath her absolute crankiness at being confronted with a noisy group of people when she was this sleep-deprived. “Look,” she attempted, tiredly, “It’s…nice you were worried. I didn’t realise anyone would be looking for me.” She searched for something appropriate to say. “I’ll…put a note on my door, if something like this comes up again?”

Her teammates, four of whom had shown up, nodded contritely. “Sorry for bothering you on a rest day,” offered another of them, starting to shove the others towards the door. “We’ll see you for training tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Rayla looked longingly down the hallway, where her bed awaited. “I don’t exactly make a habit of missing training, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re very – dedicated,” Fiera said, in the tones of someone trying to be diplomatic, still being ushered doorwards. “Have a good rest day!” she called, right before the rest of them filed out and the wing became something approaching quiet again.

Too tired and too grumpy to have much emotional response to the whole thing, Rayla turned and headed down her hallway without a further word. The wing was still bustling, and it was more of a relief than usual to close her door on it; the privacy runes hummed lethargically as they activated, but the noise level outside cut off sharply enough that for once she didn’t mind their quality too much. They mostly did their job, and that was all she really needed.

It turned out that the effect of the reveillant couldn’t really complete with post-Full-Moon sleep deprivation; Rayla crawled into bed and fell asleep more or less instantly.

She woke some hours later, stirring at the sound of some computer module or other humming as it reactivated from idling. It wasn’t loud by any means, but she was quite sensitive to new or changing sounds in her vicinity, so it was enough. She blinked her eyes open, rubbing grit from their edges, and stumbled out of bed with a glance at the clock along the way. Moon-sense said it was late afternoon; the clock was a bit more specific about it, and said 6.33pm. The sky outside was still blue and light, but in that summer-evening way, where the sun had fallen low enough to cast long shadows between the city buildings. It was still bright enough to make her tired to look at.

There were new messages on her Sunbeam.

Rayla dropped into her desk chair and eyed the icon tiredly, uncertain if she was awake or rested enough to deal with any further social contact today. In the end she decided there probably wasn’t any harm in checking them, so…she looked. Kazi had thanked her for the game, and sent her some sort of invitation to make an account on…what looked to be the skeinsite that hosted the high-level Antiquitora broadcasts. She wasn’t sure what the purpose of that was, and didn’t have her head on sufficiently to figure it out, so she left it for later. Ethari had asked how her Full Moon had been. And…

She sighed, not sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed, because: Callum had left messages, too. Fairly recently, actually.

They read Hope you got to sleep okay, and how are you feeling? There was no mention of whatever he’d supposedly wanted to mention before the call ended, so he’d probably forgotten, or…something.

She debated whether or not to reply now. She found she was a little wary of…something. She wasn’t quite sure what. Making a fool of herself, maybe? She’d already spent nearly two very late-night hours sunbeaming him, and…that was already…well.

In the end, Rayla spent about five minutes trying to wrestle some semblance of reason past her sleep-mired brain, finally concluding that she was probably unlikely to come across as an infatuated idiot by responding to a couple of messages. Then, slowly, she picked at the keys to write back: Kind of knackered, but okay. While that one was processing, she hesitantly sent another: Just woke up from a nap. I think it helped?

She left the computer to visit the bathroom, tidying up her hair and washing her face with cold water. It did little to make her feel more alert, or to remove the weird muggy haze of exhaustion from her head, but it was better than nothing. She contemplated getting something to eat, but knew she wasn’t going to be up to cooking tonight. She went for one of her bottles of emergency moonberry elixir instead, which were so full of nutrients they probably counted as some kind of soup.

That in hand, she returned to her computer….and, somehow, wasn’t surprised to find that Callum had already replied. Was he just constantly glued to his computer, or what?

Well, at least it’s apparently traditional to be tired after full moon, I guess? He’d written, light-heartedly. At least you got a nap! Although it’s kind of late. Won’t you have trouble getting to sleep later?

Rayla shuffled forwards in her chair to respond. Nah. There’s a neat trick you can use to get to sleep at night if you’re a Moonshadow elf, and if it’s not Full Moon. Just need to shine a bright light in my face and I’ll be good. She hadn’t had to use it in a while, but she knew where the thing was: on her windowsill, to soak up sunlight during the day. It’d do the job just fine.

The pause in response seemed to be longer than connection lag would account for. That’s so weird, and cool, he marvelled, eventually. I just looked it up. They call them sun lamps?

Yep. Flash of sunlight in a dark place gets us sleepy pretty much every time. Moonshadow elves tended to be mostly diurnal by practice, but naturally, they all had the wiring for a nocturnal lifestyle. Bright sunlight in the eyes after being in the dark would usually trigger tiredness, even in elves perfectly used to going about in the daytime. Sun lamps were extraordinarily simple as far as enchanted objects went, but extraordinarily useful for Moonshadow elves with weird schedules.

What about if someone turns a light on in a dark room? He asked, apparently fascinated.

Nah. Has to be sunlight. It’s pretty specific.

That’s so cool, he reiterated, from that bizarre well of enthusiasm he seemed to have for banal magical elements of everyday life. Rayla waited to see if he’d write anything more, and after a moment, realised she’d started smiling. She wasn’t sure when that had happened. Eventually, he did send something else: I’d ask if you wanted to call again, but you should probably, you know, be getting actual sleep.

What Rayla intended to write then was something along the lines of, ‘yes, you’re entirely correct, I need to sleep for like twelve hours if I’m not going to be a useless wreck for training tomorrow’.

Instead, what she ending up sending was keep it half an hour or less, and you’re probably fine.

I’ll set a timer :) he typed, complete with smiley, which was something she’d never actually encountered outside of the mageskein before. And then he called her.

“How’s the light level?” she asked him, when the call resolved. It wasn’t yet far into sunset, so she thought there ought to be sufficient lighting in her room to see by, but who really knew with humans. She certainly didn’t know how bad their eyes were.

In his own room, Callum was bathed in the warm glow of the light through his windows, shaded the same pink-orange that she was. He was smiling, even as he pretended to squint exaggeratedly at her room. “Yeah, I can just about see,” he said, obviously teasing. “It’s not dark yet.” A pause, and he took a moment to look her over a little more directly. He was a little more concerned when he added “Are you sure it’s okay to be calling? You really do look tired.”

“I think I’ll survive half an hour, Callum,” she told him wryly, and one corner of his lips twitched upwards.

“Yeah, fair enough.” He hesitated for a moment, like he was summoning his nerve for something. “Listen – I wanted to ask before, yesterday, but – there’s going to be a sort of casual gaming night? At my house? On Tuesday. The others will be there. And my housemates, er, obviously.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry if it’s short notice, but – do you want to come?”

Rayla stared at him, half bemused by the offer itself, half at his apparent nervousness. “Kazi said you were going to invite me,” she said, a little too nonplussed to offer any more intelligent response. “I guess they were right.”

He blinked. “You’ve been talking to Kazi?” A pause. “No, wait, what am I saying, of course you’ve been talking to Kazi. There’s no way they’d let someone who beat them at Antiquitora get away.”

“We had a rematch today, actually,” Rayla admitted, lips twitching. “I let them take Sun. Naturally they destroyed me.”

“Ow,” Callum said, with feeling. “I’ve been on the receiving end of Kazi playing Sun before. It’s…” he searched for the words. “Really something.”

She smiled, remembering it. With a few hours separating her from the game, she realised she’d enjoyed the experience more than she’d anticipated. The discussion in particular had been welcome. “I’m just glad to be able to play someone new, honestly,” she confided. “Though it’d be nice to do it again when I’ve actually slept.” A second later, she remembered he’d had an almost equally dubious bedtime, and inspected him critically. He looked surprisingly okay, actually. A little tired, but not like he’d been up most of the night. “Did you sleep in late, or what?” She asked then, a little amused. “You don’t actually look tired.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, I didn’t wake up till around lunchtime,” he admitted. “I had to go to work after that, though.”

Rayla paused, still very unsure of how to respond to mentions of his work. “And…was that okay?” She asked at last, uncertainly.

“Yeah, actually. I had a pattern etching appointment, and those are some of my favourites,” he said, brightening. “This one wanted one of my new designs, too. It turned out great!”

She’d seen something about that on the posters in the waiting room, she thought. “That’d be the…buzzing patterns into the horns?” She asked, faintly.

“Mmhm. I use sort of a really small thin version of an electric buffer, and work the etching in that way,” he agreed. “I draw the design on first and follow the lines, and then after you can either just polish it up and leave it, or like, fill with metal or something. It takes a while, but, you know, that’s kind of just how art works.” He shrugged. “It looks great, anyway.”

Rayla thought of her looming appointment, maybe a week or so away, and found she was entirely unprepared for thinking about that. “You…seem to kind of do the art thing a lot?” she hazarded, as a distraction, nodding to the nearest easel. “Painting?”

He turned to look, then grinned back at her. “Yeah! I mean, art is…well, I probably draw more than I game, and that’s really saying something. I do all sorts, kinda. I’ll have to show you some of my sketchbooks sometime.” That seemed to remind him of the question she still hadn’t answered, and he abruptly looked nervous again. “So. Er. Um. About Tuesday…?”

She tried, very hard, to keep an even expression. “Er,” she managed, and then finally: “…Yeah. Sounds good? I’ll…be there.” Wherever ‘there’ was. She did have the address written down, but hadn’t actually tried to figure out where it was in the city yet.

Callum straightened up, brightening. “Really? That’s great!” A second later, he amended “It’ll be really nice to have someone new over! We’ll have food and stuff, too.”

She paused at that. “Should I bring anything?” Hospitality expectations tended to be very different depending on culture, so it merited the question.

“Nah. Well, if you want, you can bring snacks or food, but you don’t need to. We have loads.” A second later, he added ruefully “Kassa has some…pretty strong opinions about how fully-stocked a kitchen should be.”

“That’s one of your housemates?” she remembered.

“Yeah! Actually, I lived with Kassa and her mom for a few years before. They sort of hosted me, when I was…well, when I first came to Gullcrest.” He amended his sentence half-way through, as if realising he was about to say too much. She was intensely curious about that. “This house is her family property, too, so we don’t have to pay much on it. We moved in when Kassa started her undergrad.”

She blinked, filing that information away. This had something to do with the mystery of him doing a mage’s masters at the age of eighteen, she was sure of it, but… “What about your other housemates?”

“Nihatasi moved in because we had room and she was a friend,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Soren…” he hesitated. “Well, he’s a childhood friend of mine,” he settled on eventually. “So he came to study here, and he took the last spare room.”

Rayla eyed him, but didn’t question him on the obvious secrets clamouring behind his words. “Looks a lot roomier than usual student wings, at least,” she commented finally. “These rooms are pretty cramped. And the runework is pretty worn-down. My door makes this horrible droning noise every time the wards come on.”

He made an ‘oof’ sound. “I’ve visited student wings before. They’re…well, they’re okay. Definitely prefer this house though.” He eyed her curiously. “Is yours at least one of the ones where you get one bathroom between two people? Because I knew someone who only had one bathroom for twelve, and it was terrible.”

“That sounds disgusting,” she said, making a face. She could hardly imagine how terrible that would be, with how some of her wingmates were. “I’m so glad that’s not me.”

“So glad,” he agreed, and before she knew it, they were off on a weirdly engrossing conversation about the merits of student living compared to home life. He was pretty evasive about it, but she got the impression he’d been used to a fairly fancy home before he came to Gullcrest, and he’d been astonished at what student wings were like.

Rayla was in the middle of describing how chaotic move-in day had been, with so many elves hauling all their boxes of things in at once, when a shrill ringing started up from over Callum’s voicecatcher. He reached hastily to the side and disabled some sort of egg timer that had gone off, settling back into view with a sheepish smile.

“That was the timer,” he said, apologetically.

Half an hour, already. It was a little disconcerting how quickly it’d gone by. “I’d better try to turn in for an early night, then,” she offered, weirdly reluctant to hang up.

He hesitated a fair bit, too. “Probably a good idea,” he agreed, wry. “We can talk again later?” His tone went questioning, at that. A little hopeful.

Rayla resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “…Yeah, sure,” she sighed, more and more exasperated with herself for just how much she wanted to talk to him.

Callum smiled again, the edges of him lit up from the light of the falling sun. “Later, then,” he said, and hesitated once again. Then he reached out, and the call disconnected. Sunbeam minimised to its idling overlay around the edges of her screen, the background of Silvergrove scenery back to the fore.

She sighed, and leaned back in her chair. Ruefully, she spend a while reflecting on exactly how in trouble she was. Then she did as a responsible elf on their Full Moon rest day ought, and went to attempt an early night.

She managed it almost as soon as it was dark enough for her magic rune-rock to work. Thank Xadia for sun lamps, honestly.

  ---

End chapter.

Yeah so this is basically completely unbetaed, even by me, because I’ve been frantically trying to churn out a complete chapter this week in time for the Modern AU day of rayllum month. There will be typos, there will be clunky sentences, that’s just what you get for a rush job. I’ll return to it and do some editing in the morning.

Re: the Antiquitora. ‘Would you like to discuss the game’ *hikago fandom origins vibes intensify*

  Worldbuilding notes for this chapter:

Moondances: specific ritual dances made to react with the runic Circles that Moonshadow elves use. The dancing is used as a form of spellcraft, to cast enchantments or strengthen the magic of a community. The Full Moon dances in Silvergrove for example are integral for keeping its magical defences running. (piaj)

EX and WX: East Xadian and West Xadia. A more modern and correct term for the human and elf/dragon sides of the continent, respectively.

Artefact magic: primal magic cast with a power source other than your own arcanum. E.g. a primal stone, a moon opal.

Thaumaturgy: the practice of magic casting.

Thaumatology: the study of magic.

Lightcatcher: magic camera, basically.

Voicecatcher: magic microphone, basically.

Honour Games: a fun sport :) more on this later.

Technomancy/technomantic: alternate proper term for magical engineering.

Antiquitora notes: while the game has been steadily gaining complexity over time, the game at its fundamentals is very old, and quite traditional. It’s considered a respectable strategy game, and Runaan certainly would have approved of Rayla showing an interest in it when she was younger. Modern variants tend to adopt features and ‘house rules’ that don’t strictly conform to traditional standards, though.

East Xadian computer games: though boasting dramatically better visuals and audio than human technology is currently capable of, the limitations of elven computing mean that computer games are extremely expensive, and difficult to integrate into lesser systems. Most elves will never be able to run the best gaming modules at home.

Nomad Gameships: Brevili nomads are well known for their magical engineering, and produce some of the most advanced technomantic games there are. Owing to the limited number of elves who can actually afford to buy them, they get creative with the marketing: many clans field airships whose sole purpose is travelling around as a sort of mobile arcade, landing at various destinations for a set amount of time, during which customers can pay for access to the many assorted games they have on offer. Demani, as the clan that (a good long while ago) invented the airship in the first place, boasts the most impressive facilities on their ships.

Skycrawler: a game so advanced and finicky that its developers haven’t yet figured out how to get it to run on less advanced systems than the gameships’ computers. There are a handful like these, usually the newest and most technomantically complex titles, and their release on gameships usually serves as something of a ‘beta’ build while they refine the technology for more accessible use. Imunaviga was one of these, and was very recently released for public purchase.

Imunaviga: as several commenters guessed, this is indeed a Subnautica expy. Rayla is not at all keen on the idea of playing it. I spent probably too much time working out the worldbuilding and plot for the elf AU version of this game. It was a lot of fun though.

Scion of Shadow: a well-regarded game with a Moonshadow elf protagonist, involving a lot of stealth gameplay, a highly-lauded storyline, and in-setting ‘fantasy’ elements; i.e. they’d be considered fantasy in this fantasy setting.

Magical overload states: Natural events that cause high levels of ambient primal magic can induce some very unusual effects in beings with the relevant arcana. Terms include ‘moonstruck’ for Moonshadow elves, ‘sunstruck’ for Sunfire, and ‘storm-drunk’ for Skywing. (piaj)

Moondust: a magic-dampening drug taken in different dosages based on the phase of the moon, to dampen the effect of the lunar cycle on Moonshadow elves’ bodies and minds. Not all Moonshadow elves take it, but most do. (piaj)

Reveillant: Sunfire elf beverage made from the dried berries of a shrub with stimulant properties. Some preparations are very strong and are restricted, but preparations from the berries are mild and very popular. (piaj)

Draconic Corpus: a sort of full-body sign language spoken by dragons incapable of complex vocal speech. Given this accounts for the majority of dragons, it’s generally useful to understand some of, even if bipeds are generally incapable of speaking it properly. (piaj)