#it's an aperitif so you don't drink it with your food. you drink it before or just on its own

[lecoindecachou]

Is that fucking Ricard

[mariolandavid]

Bangkok Part 1

Arriving into a country. That first journey, before you buy a sim & hook back into the web again, is kind of magical. You might just hail a guy outside the door, or wait for that last drab of Wifi to peter away as you leave, but for that first journey you don't know anything. It's as long as it is. You can't scroll on your phone. You don't recognise anything to help you. You put more trust in that taxi driver than any man other than a priest. Who knows if you're going the right way? Just experience the ride as it is. It's as long as it takes. You see what you see. Look outside & a new world goes by. Unrecognised & unfamiliar, fascinating. Mesemerising. You're in the moment. We should all ditch phones now and then. It's beautiful.

Bangkok rose above and around us like the monolithic Asian super city it is. 14 million people call this place home & it dwarfs anything else in Thailand in importance or size. It's huge. A "primate city". It doesn't have a "centre", it just spreads as far as you can see and then even further than that. Every other street has a mall bigger than a city block anywhere else. Hell, it has Boots for God's sake, what doesn't it have?

30 minutes in and out of the airport from landing, smooth as you like, was not reflected in the traffic experience. This city is in a chokehold, metaphorical and physical of traffic. Smog and fumes swirl around metal aumototives clogging the city's roads like so much cholestoral. Getting anywhere needs serious forward planning. We were taken aback at the comeback of that bringer down to reality accessory, the face-mask, which had been reasonably low key and absent for a lot of SE Asia, when we'd expected it to be ubiquitous. Going back to sweating from the lip in 30 degrees was inevitable.

We made it to our Airbnb in Bangkok despite serious reservations about whether Airbnb was legal in this particular building. An awful lot of signs suggested it wasn't, and the saluting smiling, but still surprisingly menacing security guards seemed ready to grab us and turf us out at any minute. Maybe they were playing the long game and knew about the apartment, because within 5 minutes of us arriving we turned on the air-conditioning only to see it drip, then stream, beginning to totally flood the apartment. Hey guys, no Airbnbs on punishment of Noah's biblical flood is one way to discourage the practice. Try that New York.

We freshened up. Reported the flooding to the landlord (she didn't care) and put up our laundry. The outside soon began to resemble the inside, forcing us to take the laundry down and instead turn the inside of the apartment into a cotton obstacle course. All the fuss over and done with, it was about time to eat something, so we headed to the famous Khao San road to try out some Bangkok's world renowned street food. The taxi played melodious piano covers the whole way because, that's what Asia likes, soft piano covers of rock and pop hits. Malls, taxis, you name it, it's got a piano cover in the background.

If you've ever been a sweaty 18 year old hormone drenched boy in the United Kingdom, you've probably been to a place like Khao San road if you've sampled the strip in Zante or Magaluf.. You have laughing gas, shots and marijuana (recently legalised in Thailand as of June 2022) practically thrown down your throat. Crickets and scorpions follow this aperitif, giving a more 'adventurous' feel than you'd get in your European entry level hormone hell hole. It's quite a feeling revisiting one of these pplaces in your old (er) age and makes you question your life choices and avoid eye contact with the weed guy, lest he somehow remember that thing that never happened.

We parked ourselves at a stall a little bit off the main road and sampled a bit of the Tom yum noodle soup & holy basil fried rice. Both were head blowingly, nose meltingly spiced and needed a heavy round of Mango Sticky Rice afterwards to numb the pain with those sweet sweet lipids. A few drinks later and the long day caught up to us and we turned in for the night.

The Tuk Tuk drivers here have a really scummy way to make a bit of cash. As you make your way to one of the city's tourist sites, these guys will hang around a short distance from the attraction you're looking for. Do a big sigh, hike up their britches and say "oooh no, you can't go there, that's shut today" before offering you a ride to a different monument in their taxi. How often this works when you can clearly see the queue of people walking towards what you were trying to go to in the first place... but that's the game and these guys trynna play it.

The Grand Temple is no exception to this scam, but it has its own too. Elephant Pants. As you walk around you see everyone wearing the same pants. Painfully, excruciatingly gap yah, these elephant pants, a little shapeless, the lightly jazzy shapes and colours of your 2nd year philosophy seminars are ubiquitous here to cover up tourists who forgot the "no shorts" rule, and the odd 20 year old who's just finding themselves. They're everywhere, but even they don't spoil the views of the Grand Temple itself.

The grand palace is stunningly ornate. Rama I ordered it built after moving his grand imperial capital to this part of the country and parts of it feel like you're viewing the Thai Sistine chapel. Paintings of Lord Buddha's life and the Ramayana cover every surface and the sheer vibrancy of colours,gold and noise from te singing schoolchildren and the buddhist monks is a harmonious bath of sound and sensation. It's a wonderful place to wander around for a couple of hours complaining about tuk tuk scams.

As we left to head to Chinatown for lunch via the hop on - hop off Chao Praya river boat, we did something I never thught possible. Found a Chinatown where there wasn't something to eat. It turns out we came at the total wrong time of day for anything to do with street food, and it was more of a fresh market and time for you to buy any number of cheap plastic toys and tourist trinkets. That meant hungry, mardy David and Mariola slowly, at times intensely, losing patience with each other, roads and anything else even minorly irritating. Eventually, following 50+ minutes mindless walking, indecision and bickering, we got a taxi to Home CafeTha Thien and were saved from murdering one another by some exquisite Tom Kha Kai, Larb, Pad thai & Thai milk tea. All of it aromatically humming to the high heavens with fresh herbs and spices, Thai food is just a sensation of freshness. A slow chili burn punctuted by sweet coconut, nasal floral thai basil, punchy ginger and an underlying assault of shrimp paste. Heaven.

The day continued at Wat Pho. The birthplace of Thai Massage, which is still practiced at the Temple, it's a hugely important school of Thai medicine and houses not only the remains of four of their most important kings but a 46 metre long reclining Buddha whose face makes Dimitar Berbatov look stressed. It was the earliest centre of public education in Thailand and is now a beautiful monument to Buddhism and the rulers of Thailand's Siamese period.

All templed out it was time for my other great calling in life. When the lord steps aside, it's laundry time. Most of travelling has felt like a battle with the dirty washing bag. No sooner has it been emptied, then the bag is half full again. Clogging up your bag and all it's useful stuff, with useless balls and bunches of sodden stinking t shirts and underwear. Don't get me started on stains, a resolution of this journey is is to never bring anything white again. I won't bore you with the round and round of stain treating, cold soaks and hot washes, but basically. It's a mistake and you'll regret it and ruin your stuff.

We dodged around the endless laundry and puddles of AC water (broken for the 4th time) as we got ready for the evening. Tired from temples, we still nevertheless were braving Asiatique, a huge renovation project of the old shipping warehouses in the East part of town. Sadly though when we arrived, it looked to be a shadow of the videos that had drawn us there. COVID (and admittedly, the pouring rain) had drained the life out of this place and the vibrancy wasn't there. We had an expensive, though not awful, round of red and green curries, took potentially the world's least scary haunted mansion ride, meandered up and down the docks and took the shuttle ferry home.

The idea of this trip, partly at least, was to leave our loved ones behind and, just the two of us experience a world of new delights and sensations. We'd visit the forests of Borneo, swim with sharks and turtles, scale towers, temples and turrets. Look down from volcano tops. Drink with strangers and go out at the crack of dawn to eat noodles in a shack on the side of the road. We'd enjoy everything like it was new again and do it together, with just one another to share it with. Life doesn't stop just because we've taken a break from reality though and we were greeted by some wonderful news from the real world at 1am that night as our friends Ryan and Rachel announced their pregnancy.

We might have been having the time of our lives, but news like this, makes our journey feel a little bit longer and a little bit lonelier. Missing out on news and the hapiness in your friends' faces as they tell you the news. It's a reminder. You have a home, you have a reason to be there, and you've gotta be grateful for that when you come back. But mainly, congrats to the two of you, hell yeah to you both and congrats for keeping us from sleeping because of the time difference and you not being able to keep it in your pants. Filthy animals.

Our time this time around in Bangkok was brief. We were only here a couple days as a base for Thailand before returning a little bit later. As we tried to leave, we thought we'd be staying a bit longer as a succession of taxi misdirections, lost wrong turns and traffic whittled our safety net of time in the taxi down to the "JUST FLOOR IT WE ARE GONNA MISS THE PLANE" tipping point in the taxi. We would have worried less if we had seen our plane, as on first viewings we were skeptical of it's power of flight. It looked like a relic fro the wright Brothers era, complete with oriringal propellors. Your kid brother could probably achieve more aerodynamcy with a rubber band and a barbie, but hey, it was going to catapult us to our next adventure, and we had made it there on time, so here's to you tiny plane. We're off to Sukhothai

[stories-and-fanfics]

Chapter 1: the library

warning: if there are things wrong i apologize i am brazilian and i use google to translate my stories.

Ever since I started reading I've fallen in love with bookstores, and libraries, whether it's my school, public library, cafeteria with library, I just liked places with books, lots of books, my favorite library and the central public library in Chicago, because I liked it?, there was a coffee shop very close by, it was huge and allowed food, so my days when I wasn't, studying or working were here, drinking Starbucks coffees and reading romantic books.

I never saw many young people here, but this time there was a boy, he seemed to be about my age, tall, black hair, he had so many books in his hand that I was almost sure they would fall out at some point, I thought it was funny, half the books they were by Colleen Hoover, but there were also extremely funny romance books, he was doing the same as me, buying a CH book and a happy book, to ease the depression that passes her books.

I was kind of stuck thinking about whether or not to talk to him, I've always been easy to make friends, but what if he doesn't? What if he just found me nosy? but there was the other option: we got along well, we started dating and we had 7 kids, ok, I have to stop reading so much fanfic, it's making me sick.

Until I saw the perfect opportunity to approach him, his books fell out, as I predicted, and obviously, I went to help.

I was pretty sure that all the books he picked up were on my list, and best of all, they had two books in particular that caught my attention, the bromance book club and Undercover bromance, I always wanted to meet a man who has read one of these books.

- Before criticizing me, I've read both books are my favorites - He said with a sincere and soft smile on his face, and now looking closer he looked even more handsome, blue eyes, calm smile, now up close he seemed to have some 15 years.

- I won't criticize - I raised my arms in surrender - I love these books, both, and I always wanted to meet a boy who has read this book, I'm glad I did.

- Dylan Ryding Mcleary Hantsberg - He said extending his hand.

- The full name? at once? - And I said laughing, but I held out my hand - Amy Galanis Collins Lincolns.

- Nice name, are you from here? of the United States in the case.

- No, I was born in Greece, I came here when I was 17.

- You if from greece? Do you speak Greek in Greece? - I think the worst thing is that you could see in his eyes that he was really curious.

- No, we speak English there

- Serious?

-No.

- We'd better get back to the bromance book club, right?

- I think so

I helped get his books and make a pile, we sat at the table I was sitting at before, so we talked, I liked him, he liked romantic books, he was smart, kind, and funny, mom always said that life it was better with a funny man than a handsome man and i agree i think your life is lighter i must have talked to dylan for 30 minutes tops and it felt like i was lighter, calmer , he was like the snake kai demitre, but even more handsome, and who liked to read something other than hero comics.

Everything was perfect, until his cell phone rang. He answered, said little, just said “what happened?” and "ok".

- I'm sorry Amy, but I have to go - He spoke with a slightly choked voice, he was really upset...

- All right, did you come on foot?

- Yes, I can give you a lift, with that much book, you won't be able to walk home, come on, I don't care.

- If you insist.

We were silent for most of the way until he spoke again:

- Did you have difficulty adapting when you came here?

- Yes, the language is very different, the way, customs, food everything.

- Food?

- Yeah, like, while the typical food here and hamburgers there is Tzatziki, for example.

- What the fuck is this Amy?

- An aperitif based on yogurt, cucumber and garlic. Very refreshing, goes well with a bun.

- “goes well with a bagel” I thought philosopher, tell me more about the foods there?

And that's how, talking about typical Greek foods, we arrived at his house, if you can call it home, the backyard was huge, there were flowers, roses, almost everywhere in the house, it was simply, beautiful, the house it was white a little gray, with huge windows, it was the most beautiful house I've ever seen, and my father owned the biggest mansion in town, but our house was rustic, Dylan's, it was so cheerful, with those colorful flowers, I wish I had grown up in a house with that garden.

- I know you must be impressed by the roses, but remember one thing; roses can be beautiful as they are, but they will always have sharp thorns. - And with that sentence he just got out of the car and walked to the house leaving me confused, so I looked at the passenger seat, and there was a note.

“As you watch the house I just wanted to say bye (: it was the funniest 1 hour of my life, bye, see you around" and below his number, leaving me with three more questions, 1: did we spend an hour together? I didn't even realize 2: where did he get that paper and pen? 3: how was his handwriting so beautiful when he wrote so fast?

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

Português

Desde que comecei a ler eu me apaixonei por livrarias, e bibliotecas, seja a da minha escola, biblioteca pública, cafeteria com biblioteca, eu apenas gostava de lugares com livros, muitos livros, minha biblioteca favorita e a biblioteca central pública de Chicago, porque eu gostava dela?, tinha uma cafeteria bem perto, ela era enorme e permitia comida, então meu dias quando eu não estava, estudando ou trabalhando era aqui, tomando cafés do Starbucks e lendo livros românticos.

Eu nunca via muitos jovens aqui, mas dessa vez tinha um garoto, parecia ter a minha idade, alto, cabelos pretos, estava com tantos livros na mão que eu tinha quase certeza de que iriam cair em algum momento, achei engraçado, metade dos livros eram da Colleen Hoover, mas também tinha livros de romance extremamente engraçados, ele estava fazendo igual a mim, comprando um livro da CH e um livro alegre, pra maneirar a depressão que passa os livros dela.

Eu estava meio parada pensando se ia ou não falar com ele, sempre fui fácil de fazer amizades, mas e se ele não? e se ele só me achasse intrometida? mas tinha a outra opção: nós darmos bem, começamos a namorar e tivéssemos 7 filhos, ok, eu tenho que parar de ler tanta fanfic, ta me fazendo mal.

Até que vi a oportunidade perfeita de me aproximar, os livros dele caíram, como eu previa, e óbvio, eu fui ajudar.

Eu tinha certeza que todos os livros que ele pegou estavam na minha lista, e o melhor, eles estava com dois livros em específico que chamaram minha atenção, clube do livro dos homens e missão romance, sempre quis conhecer um homem que já tenha lido um desses livros.

- Antes de me criticar, já li os dois livros são meus favoritos - Ele falou com um sorriso sincero e suave no rosto, e agora olhando de perto ele pareceu ainda mais bonito, olhos azuis, sorriso calmo, agora de perto ele parecia ter uns 15 anos.

- Não vou criticar - ergui os braços em sinal de rendição - Eu amos esses livros, os dois, e sempre quis conhecer um garoto que já leu esse livro, fico feliz em ter conhecido.

- Dylan Ryding Mcleary Hantsberg - Ele disse estendendo a mão.

- O nome completo? de uma vez só? - E disse rindo, mas estendi a mão - Amy Galanis Collins Lincolns.

- Nome bonito, você é daqui? dos Estados Unidos no caso.

- Não eu nasci na Grécia, vim para cá quando tinha 17 anos.

- Você e Grega? Lá na Grécia vocês falam grego? - Acho que o pior é que dava para ver no olhar dele que ele realmente estava curioso.

- Não, lá a gente fala inglês

- Sério?

-Não.

- É melhor voltarmos a falar de clube do livro dos homens, né?

- Acho que sim

Ajudei a pegar os livros dele e fazer uma pilha, nós nos sentamos na mesa que eu estava sentada antes, então ficamos conversando, eu gostei dele, ele gostava de livros românticos, era inteligente, gentil, e engraçado, mamãe sempre disse que a vida era melhor com um homem engraçado do que com um homem bonito, e eu concordo, eu acho que sua vida fica mais leve, eu devo ter conversado com o dylan por 30 minutos, no máximo, e parecia que eu estava mais leve, mais calma, ele era como o demitre de cobra kai, mas ainda mais bonito, e que gostava de ler outra coisa que não fosse quadrinhos de heróis.

Tava tudo perfeito, até o celular dele tocar. Ele atendeu, falou pouco, apenas disse um “o que foi?” e “ok”.

- me desculpa Amy, mas eu tenho que ir - Ele falava com a voz meio embargada, ele realmente estava chateado…

- Tudo bem, você veio a pé?

- Sim, eu posso te dar carona, com esse tanto de livro, você não vai conseguir voltar para casa andando, vamos, eu não me importo.

- Já que você insiste.

Ficamos calados durante boa parte do caminho até ele voltar a falar:

- Você teve dificuldade de se adaptar quando veio para cá?

- Sim, o idioma é muito diferente, o jeito, costumes, comidas tudo.

- Comida?

- Sim, tipo, enquanto a comida típica daqui e hamburger a de lá é Tzatziki, por exemplo.

- Que porra e essa Amy?

- Um aperitivo à base de iogurte, pepino e alho. Muito refrescante, vai bem com um pãozinho.

- “vai bem com um pãozinho” achei filósofo, me fala mais sobre as comidas de lá?

E foi assim, falando sobre comidas típicas da grécia que chegamos na casa dele, se é que pode chamar aquilo de casa, o quintal era enorme, tinha flores, rosas, em quase todos os lugares da casa, era simplesmente, lindo, a casa era branca um pouco cinza, com janelas enormes, era a casa mais linda que eu já vi, e meu pai era dono da maior mansão da cidade, mas nossa casa era rústica, a do dylan, era tão alegre, com aquelas flores coloridas, eu queria ter sido criada em uma casa com esse jardim.

- Eu sei que você deve ertar imprecionada pelas rosas, mas lembra de uma coisa; rosas podem ser lindas o quanto for, mas elas sempre terão espinhos afiados. - E com essa frase ele só saiu do carro e foi andando até a casa me deixando confusa, então eu olhei para o banco do passageiro, e tinha um bilhete.

“ Enquanto você observa a casa eu só queria dizer tchau (: foi as 1 horas mais divertida da minha vida, tchauuu, nos vemos por aí" e em baixo o número dele, me deixando com mais três perguntas, 1: a gente passou uma hora juntos? eu nem percebi 2: de onde ele tirou esse papel e a caneta? 3: como a letra dele era tão bonita sendo que ele escreveu rápido?

[saltandbees]

Oh I just saw this and wanted to do it! Explaining the titles to all my fics. Sorry it's long as hell lol

Eat Dirt

It came from a discord conversation with a friend of mine, as did the series title. A snappy little pair of words that I thought sounded strong tbh. I do like how it sort of relates to Kiryu being just completely ground down to his lowest point as well.

Nectar & Ambrosia

Just sort of ran with the theme. If Eat Dirt was about everything sucking, then this fic was meant to be about everything being better. I also go off about food and drink with far more specificity than usual in this one, since I just wanted to spend some time lingering in Kiryu just getting to enjoy simple things like top shelf whiskey and delicious brunches etc.

Nightcap

idk needed something food themed to throw in at the end. I was torn between this and aperitif but I felt like this had a better sense of closure.

Get to the Nutrients

Snatched right out of that initial conversation lol

We’re Backed Into This Life

This is a line from Never Gonna Stop by The Family Crest. I really liked it for Kiryu and Nishiki. That moment when Nishiki kind of realizes how young they are and how far in over their heads they are comes hand in hand with the observation that yakuza was really the only life they knew to strive for.

Buried Not Lost

This is a line I ripped straight out of the fic itself because I couldn’t name this shit to save my life. It’s a terrible title in hindsight, but it’s still a good fic and I really stand behind the whole passage it's from. This is like my main tenet when writing Kiryu:

Haruka teaches him things about himself he's never even known, and she bestows these revelations upon him like they're nothing. He wasn’t sure what he felt until she needed support, and the words suddenly came out. Like a light was clicked on. She can reach into his chest before he is able to stop her, tell her it’s empty, and, to his astonishment, she always finds something; always reveals another piece of himself he thought he'd lost, but it turns out was only buried.

Kiryu is and will always be grateful to Haruka for saving him; for opening him up and not relenting until he was willing to allow someone in. Destruction was the only thing he created for so many years, he’d forgotten he was even capable of anything else until he met Haruka.

He's opening himself up to her again before he even realizes he's thought it.

"I'm here for you, if you ever want to talk about your mom… Or if you just feel sad and need to tell someone." She nods right into his neck. Her soft skin drags on his sandpapery jawline, and Kiryu feels more similar to a human than he has in months.

Gentleness used to be a guilty, shameful act, but with Haruka it's so easy. Her presence makes him want to be someone better, makes him scoff at the thought that being tender or doting was ever even something he should've felt ashamed of in the first place. She makes him feel, so deeply, that softness isn't just permitted, it's correct. It's right. It's restorative. He feels stronger for it, every time.

Luxury

This was just based on Kiryu's line in Y7 where he says something along the lines of "I don't have the luxury of living a life out in the open." It just really, really stuck with me. I think about it constantly. Is he saying this out of envy? Frustration with himself? Annoyance with Ichiban? Self righteousness??? oh it's such a good line; it keeps me up at night.

Longnü

Longnü is the name of the Dragon King's daughter within the Lotus Sutra. I liked the parallels and it helped guide certain aspects of the story as well, like the assembly at her grave and what not.

"There is the daughter of the nāga king Sāgara who is only eight years old. She is wise; her faculties are sharp; and she also well knows all the faculties and deeds of sentient beings. She has attained the power of recollection. She preserves all the profound secret treasures taught by the buddhas, enters deep meditation, and is well capable of discerning all dharmas. She instantly produced the thought of enlightenment and attained the stage of nonretrogression. She has unhindered eloquence and thinks of sentient beings with as much compassion as if they were her own children. Her virtues are perfect. Her thoughts and explanations are subtle and extensive, merciful, and compassionate. She has a harmonious mind and has attained enlightenment.”

The Lotus Sutra -- Kubo and Yuyama translation 2007, pg 183

Look Alive

Just a pithy little idiom that popped into my head while I was assembling the thing. I like it decently enough!

Black Sheep

All aboard the pithy idiom train once again!

No Objects with Proper Parts

Okay, this is my favorite fic title, but I am under no illusions that it's anywhere even remotely near what could be considered a good title. But anyways, have you heard of mereological nihilism? Me neither! Not until one of those very very late night wikipedia dives where you start off trying to find out how many episodes there are in Akagi and two hours later find yourself trying to find out if Søren Kierkegaard was assassinated by the Lutheran Church. (Jury's still out on that one. ͠° ͟ʖ ͡° hmm....) Anyways, during my time wasting, I ran across the page for mereological nihilism, which says that mereological simples, or objects without any proper parts, are the only material objects that exist. It's pretty stupid and falls apart under examination, but I did plant the seed in my head about thinking of the Tojo clan as something that does and doesn't exist. This fic technically takes place after 7, but also has the conceit of Daigo telling them to drag Saejima home. It's more than a bit anachronistic with canon, but I decided not to mess with that because it wasn't about the clan as a whole, it was about these guys who are components of it -- but also not. So yeah, I don't know. I like the way the phrase sounds mostly! I'm not half as deep as I wish I were!

Welcum Home

It's a pun! Because Majima is welcoming him home with a phial of jizz -- a cumflask, if you will.

Found You

Taken from the Django Django song Found You, which is literally about making a deal with the devil and 100% inspired this fic. The first time I listened to the song I was struck by the thought that the obvious conclusion would be to place Majima in the role of the devil, but to me it would be a lot more challenging to make it Kiryu. The fic sprung forth from me trying to string together a way to make an AU where Kiryu could conceivably be a representative of Hell and keep him in character.

You Are

From the song You Are by Mother Falcon. Love, love, love Mother Falcon! Liked the way the title sort of outlined Kiryu's "what am I?" question, while the lyrics reflected the answer given in the fic re: you gotta make bonds and have people that are dear to you to get the retirement package lol

The Business of Dying

On the nose, but it felt correct.

on duty / off duty

I have no idea where this came from but it works well enough

Ronin

Oh this is kind of a fun one. The outline/first sample was titled “fix Kiryu’s life via comedy” because that was precisely my intent. For a little while it was titled “Kiryu Everywhere” because I thought it would be more about him trying to get intentionally discovered by Majima and just repeatedly failing. Once I got about 2/3rds through writing the first chapter, I realized the main theme was really his ennui and isolation while he wanders the country completely bored and lonely. I changed the title to “Nomad” for a spell, but it didn’t really feel right, so I started trying to think of something more Japanese. I honestly can't remember if I came up with "Ronin" or if it was suggested by Jan, but it wound up being the right answer, I think!

Aftermath

What it says on the tin. Something I'd wanted to write forever. It's fine, I guess?

Clinical Significance

Liked this as both a ref to the medical aspect and to Kiryu and Majima finally acknowledging their importance to one another in clear, concrete terms.

Big Hollow Fire

This is another one I'm fond of. The phrase itself had been stuck in my head ever since summer 2020. I live on the west coast and that summer there were massive forest fires just running rampant and burning unchecked throughout the entire region; you couldn't go outside for more than a few minutes because the air was so full of smoke that it became hazardous to breathe. The entire sky was just red and scary. This video was taken right outside my house and wasn't color edited at all:

But yeah, the fire nearest to my home was the Big Hollow fire and while terrifying, I couldn't help but think "oh man, that is a strong series of words" and filed it away for later.

I'd had a version of this fic in my drafts for months, and by the time I got it into posting shape, I was still left without a title. I was originally going to call it "Rochambeau" because I liked that the word sounds fancy but is just a dumber name for Rock-Paper-Scissors. Some traces of this still exist in the first chapter in the form of abundant rock and earth metaphors. (I was gonna theme each chapter thusly). Eventually, I realized I just didn't like that title really, and spent a day thinking on it. After coming up with of all sorts of elaborate and stupid options, I decided to simply run with "Big Hollow Fire" on the basis that I just liked how it sounded. And I'm really glad I did because it's influenced the way I'm approaching some things, and it's given me some good motifs that I'm having a heck of a time playing around with.

[the-tharns-speak]

You probably have been invited to dine at tables all around Tamriel being such a very important person. Can you tell us a bit about the dos and don'ts you've experienced around the tables of the different cultures? And favorite special dishes? Any food you can warn us off to be carefull with - besides the Khajiits moonsugar specials? Favorite Tamrielic cusine that is not imperial?

If you can name the place, chances are that I have probably eaten there, or at least have been invited to a dinner and lacked the courage to touch anything. However I would like to make a point that if I were to list all of the points of etiquette around the world, it would take a lifetime. As such I will limit myself to those which I personally find quirky and interesting or which should be a common knowledge but are not. Some of these are bound to be more of handful advice on how to dine without coming off as a more and unknowing outsider.

If you are invited to take any meal with members of House Telvanni, it is seen as a personal failure to touch any of the courses provided by hand, which would be much easier if there was cutlery provided. Either you are proficient enough to use levitation spells with sufficient precision not to dump whole guar steak into your face, or you have a slave to feed you, or you discreetly ask the chef beforehand to provide dining saltrice flatbread for you which you use to take the food with but do not eat. (Not that dining saltrice flatbread is something you want to bite into.)

In all great Dunmer Houses except the Indoril you show your reverence to your host by poisoning their main course. You use a common slowly acting poison - because you do not want to actually kill them - and make sure that at least one person notices you doing it. In many large estates there is a servant known as the Witness hired for just this exact purpose.

Speaking of that, before you attend any such a dinner in Morrowind, drink an antidote aperitif, and after an antidote digestive. You find them cheaply in any alchemist’s shop and in most general stores as well. If you get yourself poisoned by a commonly used poison, everyone will take you for an idiot for the rest of your life (or death).

Among the Ashalnders, or at least the Vereansu, before you start eating you take your shoes off.

When presented with multiple courses, the Altmers prepare the silverware on the table that you start with the pair that is closest to the plate and you eat your way out.

In addition at Altmer noble tables you are also expected to maintain a casual conversation. Be cold and verbally jab at the people you consider to be your friends, and flirt with the people you detest and hate. I would have loved to know this one on my first visit to Skywatch…

If you know yourself to be weak to spices, numb your tongue before attending any dinner in Alik’r or the Black Marsh. Profound usage of spices helps to preserve the food against rotting due to pest and warmth. Especially Alik’r is exceptionally hot desert during the day.

On the other hand, as all spice is expensive to come by in deserts, if you are eating with Radguards who are less than fond of you, they will go very easy with the spices on you. It has its perks: For example I am the only person without Redguards origins that I know of who can eat Sai Sahan’s cooking and keep breathing only through their nose.

While I am at it: No spices in Valenwood, since the Bosmer can’t eat plants. And expect only a little salt, since that place is so humid most of the salt dissolves right away.

Never ask what the Bosmer serve you, and eat all of it except bones. (If there are suspicious organs you don’t want to eat, offer them gracefully to someone else, as organs are nutritionally rich and therefore prized delicacy.) It is better to eat yourself so full that it makes you sick rather than to leave bits.

If you expect yourself to spend longer time in Valenwood, stock up on citruses or sour cabbage preserves, and eat them when no Bosmer sees you. Scurvy is a killer, and not a pretty one. Ask any sailor.

In Skyrim it is not a dinner, it is a feast. Feast includes vast amounts of alcohol, and you are supposed to comment on the strength, not the taste and quality, unless it is exceptionally bad.

If you are given a horn to drink, you will notice that there is no way to put that horn down without spilling its content. You are supposed to drink all of it in one go, then there is a window of about five seconds when nobody has yet noticed your horn is empty so you can put it down on the table. If you’ve missed that window, you are in for a refill.

A very important difference between Orc and Nord feasts: At an Orc feast, you are to cut food with whatever it is you brought, be it a knife, a sword, a battleaxe. At Nord feasts, there are to be absolutely no weapons and preferably no sharp objects on the table, so you pray you have a strong jaw and prepare to get your hands very greasy.

Argonian hand-washing almost-rituals before every meal are a very intricate and complicated process. Don’t try to imitate them, you’ll be think for adorably foolish and clumsy at best, and outright offensive in most cases. Just wash your hands like you are used to.

Khajiits expect you to bring yourself your own fork. They’ll provide you with spoons and chopsticks if you ask for them, and usually there will be a fork on the table, but if there is no fork, don’t ask for one. (They also expect you to have your own towel, although that is not dinning related whatsoever.)

In many places after meal you are offered to take a smoke, either a cigar or a sugar pipe. However especially in Morrowind and the northern parts of the Black Marsh you can be commonly offered skooma as well. Don’t take skooma. If you have to take skooma, do not mix it with hist. If you mix skooma with hist, never, I repeat never, add in alcohol of any kind, no not even early-matze.

If you mix skooma, hist, and alcohol… Well, I told you not to, so don’t expect any sympathy from me.

Like Nords, the Khajiit also have the policy of no sharp utensils in the dining room, but unlike Nords this means that everything is minced.

I don’t know who when wand where started that rumor that at Imperial banquets you are supposed to eat until the event is over, and in case you stuff yourself full you excuse yourself to the bathroom where you throw up into a vase, and then return and continue eating. I don’t care who started it either. It is not true and the janitors are not pleased. Be a decent person, don’t do this.

What is true is that you are supposed to bring as a present to the host a meal of your own. It doesn’t have to be big enough to feed everyone, rule of thumb is to keep it for a sixth of the other people attending or for five people, whichever number is smaller. Usually you would bring a soup, a fish or a cake.

I have many dishes that I am very fond of, but I rarely have the time to enjoy them. I appreciate a well prepared fish, but if I had to pick something special, it would be topped flatbread. It is food that I haven’t yet encountered outside of Niben. On a flatbread from unproofed dough you put either tomato puree or cream, and then top it with tiny bits of whatever you fancy (usually what is at hand), commonly it is cheese, minced meat, vegetables such as peppers, onion or boiled bittergreen and mushrooms. It is then baked in a very heated oven for a relatively short amount of time, and if you eat it too hot when it is at its best, it will melt the top of your mouth right off. If you put comberries on topped flatbread, I will quarter you in a marketplace and seal each of your body part in a different forgotten corner of Oblivion.

Food to be careful about... I have covered the House Dunmer tendency to poison everything for the good manners, so we have that. Be on your guard with any wine made in Summerset, as if you are not used to them, they have the tendency to act as magicka potions, and if you are not careful, you will easily overcharge. Steam-boiled mudcrabs with herb-butter and steamed carrot are delicious if they are done well, but mudcrabs are very resilient and before you break the chitin, check very carefully the crustacean is dead. Nord mead is stronger than it tastes like, drink about two thirds of what you think you can take. All Khajiiti cuisine that I’ve got on my plate has contained sugar, and therefore it’s been usually sticky, so for people with longer hair, facial or regular, tame your mane to avoid painful brushing later on. Whatever meal is a Daedra presenting to you, decline; it might be someone you know and in fact it probably is.

I do not think that I have a favorite cuisine. There are bits in each which I like and each has something I detest. My answer to that is going to be the most Imperial you can receive: The best is the combination of all the good parts with a touch of your own.