#laynie is emotional

[byoldervine]

Character Info - Connor Warden

General Info

Name: Connor Warden

Nicknames:

• Warden (by Kennedy)

• Con (by Layni)

• Connie (by Layni, teasing)

• Hotshot (by Enigma)

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Species: Elemental

Place Of Birth: Kettringham, Taverus

Current Home: Kettringham, Taverus

Appearance

Connor has tanned skin (which I know didn’t show up brilliantly on the Picrew) and tawny-coloured hair. His eyes are cyan. I’ve been torn between giving him burn scars, such as the one over his left eye in the Picrew, or having him immune to fire due to being a fire elemental. He also has some freckles

I’m still flitting between different outfit ideas for Connor, but he often wears more earthy tones like browns, greens and reds. He’s gonna dress somewhere between a farmer and someone at a renaissance faire, if that makes any sense

Personality

Connor is a very friendly, charismatic optimist who people are naturally drawn to for his sunny disposition and frequent smile. A likeable character, he’s also quite flirtatious at times, though this is generally more for fun than out of a genuine romantic interest in others, hence why he flirts with Kennedy very often despite them both being aware that she’s uninterested

Largely, Connor’s cheerfulness is part of a way to cover up his fears of losing control of his emotions and setting off his more volatile fire powers; he’s very afraid of hurting others and destroying things, so he tries to keep his power in check by staying happy and finding the silver linings in every situation. He’s fortunate that it comes quite naturally to him for the most part, and only Layni can really tell the difference

Likes:

• Giving people nicknames

• Joking and flirting

• Potions

Dislikes:

• Being alone

• The Guardians

• His powers

Known Abilities

• Pyrokinesis - As a fire elemental, Connor is able to conjure and manipulate fire at will. However, his power is strongly influenced by his emotions, and as such can become volatile at times

• Connor has some experience in woodworking and other jobs around the carpentry, but lacks interest in the work

• Connor also has a history of potion-making, though it’s been a long time since he did anything of the sort

Relationships

Family:

• Layni Warden (older sister)

• Rose Warden (mother; deceased)

• James Warden (father; deceased)

Friends/Allies:

• Kennedy (best friend, party member)

• Lazulai Cantor (friend, party member)

• Enigma (friend, party member)

• Angelus (friend, party member)

Enemies:

• The Guardians

Backstory

Connor was always a very happy person, even during his childhood; when he began to develop fire powers like his mother, he was over the moon. Rose tried her best to teach her son how to use his powers, but she’d been stricken with illness for a long time now, so her own power was weak. While their father worked, Connor and Layni would stay home looking after Rose and learning from her. Connor also picked up an interest in alchemy after seeing Layni and Rose experimenting with different potions that might help her get better. Rose started teaching him about potions as well as his powers

When Connor was eleven, Rose passed away, and Layni grew a Remaligo tree in the garden just above her grave. This was around the time when Connor’s powers first began to lose control through his wrought emotions; flames would burst from his throat and hands uncontrollably, and he now had no other fire elemental to help him learn to control it

The bigger shock to the siblings was when their father died a year later. Connor hadn’t understood at first, as Layni had tried to keep it from him and find ways to spare him knowing, or at least to let him find out gently and slowly so that he wouldn’t have another episode. It didn’t work, and from then on Connor tried to stay cheerful and calm to avoid triggering these episodes again; he tried meditation, breathing exercises and several other things to varying success

With both of their parents gone, it was up to Layni to look after both Connor and the family business. Connor was only twelve at the time, with Layni being seventeen. Layni didn’t intend on putting Connor to work, but he appointed himself as the unofficial receptionist of Warden Carpentry, sitting up at the front desk to greet anyone who came by and get Layni’s attention if he needed help. He’d also do other odd jobs around the carpentry, such as cleaning up or helping to move supplies. By thirteen, Connor was able to manage his side of the job himself, which took a huge burden off of Layni since now she only had to grow trees for wood and craft the orders, which was made even easier due to her own abilities

Several years passed and Connor rarely had any more episodes. He was still working as the receptionist and largely enjoyed the job, save for the occasional difficult customer. One day, however, Connor did indeed have another episode - except this time, a passing stranger was able to use her powers to nullify his own, putting out all the fires he caused. The stranger, Kennedy, claimed to be a passing nomad, and Connor and Layni offered her a place to stay in exchange for her helping Connor to get better control of his power. Kennedy agreed, and after they discovered her previous experience with carving and woodwork she began to work with Layni in the carpentry. It’s been three years since then, and Kennedy quickly became part of the crew. It feels weird to Connor now when she isn’t there

Fun Facts

• At nineteen, Connor is the youngest of the five man band. He’s also the second tallest after Kennedy

• Connor has nicknames for everyone; Kennedy is ‘Princess’, Lazulai is ‘Goddess’, Enigma is either ‘Witchlet’ or ‘Little witch’, Angelus is ‘White knight’ and Layni is an assortment of different remarks

• Connor believes that Kennedy is some type of fae, but hasn’t tried to ask her about it

[perunaselvaoscura]

Books 2022

In 2022, I read 81 books (20 of them chapbook or chapbook type things) for a total of 11,092 pages. A lot more than I thought and had read during the super depressed era of the pandemic. I kept another notebook tabulating how many total pages I read including books I did not finish, and that number is 11,205 pages. Maybe it’s not worth it to keep these two types of lists, but I was curious how many pages I read of things I did not finish, but I also wonder how many books I had read some of in 2021 or earlier that then got added erroneously to the pages read of books completed in 2022 list!

Favorite Books read in 2022:

Plastic: An Autobiography by Allison Cobb

I like how she mixed in research on plastic and the environment with stories about her relationships and her mother dying. I also found out about the huge prevalence of asthma in Houston, which is due to terrible pollution from the plants around there, and remember how I had terrible asthma that required a machine you plugged in (like an inhaler, but breathing that medicine in for 5 minutes at a time) after we moved to Houston when I was 5. 

Spacious Minds: Trauma and Resilience in Tibetan Buddhism by Sara E. Lewis

Even though it is a white anthropologist talking about Tibetans, and you wish it was a Tibetan writing it, really helpful for dealing with emotional pain, and quite the opposite of all that western therapy traditions say you should do with trauma. All is impermanent, create space between you and the problems you encounter, as they are not real. Rehashing it, digging deep into it, like in western therapy, just solidifies it more, whereas the Tibetans don’t view it as a solid thing.

For the Good of All, Do Not Destroy the Birds by Jennifer Moxley

Wonderful short essays about poetry with a recurring theme of birds in every type of context you could imagine, mixed in with stories of her life and her husband. 

Electrical Theories of Femininity by Sarah Mangold

My poetry twin. I love everything she does.

To Look at the Sea Is to Become What One Is by Etel Adnan (Vol. 1)

I thought I’d get to volume 2 this year, but I didn’t. Loved reading about her time in Marin, as that is where I work, as well as, just everything.

Boys for Pele by Amy Gentry

My first 33 1/3 book I ever read and it was amazing. In addition to descriptions of her songs and in depth analysis of the music, she brings in a lot that is theory based which I was not expecting, which really appealed to my cerebral side. 

La Movida by Tatiana Luboviski-Acosta

Romantic and activist and very The Mission.

Boat by Lisa Robertson

I always go into a trance reading her poetry.

Translation of the Lilies Back into Lists by Laynie Browne

Saw her read from this on a Zoom reading and immediately went and ordered it. Translating mundane lists we all make into poetry is totally my thing.

After Buddhism by Stephen Batchelor

Shocking in a cool way to read that the four noble truths were originally four tasks, and the "noble truth" thing was tacked on later. I really like the linguistic analysis about what was said and what we know to be the meaning being not what the text actually says. Some aspects of his critique later on became a bit uncomfortable though, and I just don’t think I ascribe to the atheism part of Buddhism in his style of American Buddhism. But really worth reading. 

Interventions for Women by Angela Hume

Feminist/Environmental activism combined with very personal poetry about her failing relationship 

An Event, Perhaps by Peter Salmon

New biography of Derrida (I had never read one). Enjoyed reading about his antidepressant, and not finishing his thesis for twenty years, and do feel like I understand some of his ideas better. Did not enjoy reading about his affair, and stealing ideas for his philosophy from a Vietnamese philosopher. 

Southern Migrant Mixtape by Vernon Keeve 

If only I knew what a great writer he was when he lived here. It’s in the more narrative style which I usually don’t like, but I loved it, very engaging.

The Empty Form Goes All the Way to Heaven by Brian Teare

Poems about struggling though an undiagnosed disability illness mixed in with poems about art.

Mine Eclogue by Jacob Kahn

I really like how he's obviously so charming, but also cerebral and definitely smart, but not in an authoritative way. I don't think you need to know very much about the eclogues besides the fact that it's about nature, because that's all I know. And I like that he got into them as his project.

Girls Against God by Jenny Hval

Goth philosophy more than a novel, but an occasional plot or character makes an appearance.

Drive By by Claudia La Rocco

A chapbook long short story that has several elements I still don’t understand.

Other books I read and loved but don’t have a little spiel about:

Regular Acid Consciousness by Paul Ebenkamp

An Essay, Ritual by Erick Saenz

Desgraciado: The Collected Letters by Angel Dominguez

Weirding by Lindsey Boldt

Facing You by Uche Nduka

Bionic Communality by Brenda Iijima

Worm Holes by Jamie Townsend

Grief Sequence by Prageeta Sharma

Memnoir by Joan Retallack

Necropolitics by Achille Mbembe

Ghost Notes by Kenning JP Garcia

The NIght Before the Day on Which by Jean Day

Eric Sneathen’s private mailings

[sapphicambitions]

Honestly one thing that I REALLY fucking hate about what the Magicians Finale is that it ripped away any trust I have in ANY writer or network to handle queer storylines. Like maybe it’s stupid of me to feel this way cause it’s been this way for like literally ever that queer characters get killed off, so maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised and devastated. But I was. And for a brief moment, before all the shit went down, I was 100% convinced that a queer ship was endgame and that queer characters would get a happy ending. And ripping that away triggered a whole mess of emotions and fears and memories of when Tara died. And when Lexa died. And every queer character in the last 50 years that’s met their untimely and unnecessary end or given an unsatisfying ending to appease the heteros. Now I look at other current shows with queer characters and I’m like “Are they gonna do that too? Are they building up something wonderful just to rip it away in the end in the worst possible way? Can I really put my trust in another set of writers?” And I can’t! Not right now! Like for example, I look at Sara & Ava from Legends of Tomorrow, one of the HEALTHIEST wlw ships I’ve EVER seen on screen, and I get physically anxious that something’s gonna go wrong for them, for no other reason than it’s a queer ship! (The only show that I’m not really anxious about is She-Ra cause it has queer creators but even then I’m afraid that Netflix is gonna swoop in and play their hand.) Like I cant & won’t speak for other members of the LGBTQ community, but I know that I already feel so much anxiety existing openly as myself all the time, every time I’m in public, or everytime I interact with a family member. Happy queer representation has been my escape from that, a way to escape from my very real fears that I’ll be attacked on the street for holding a girl’s hand or wearing a rainbow shirt, or the fear that I’ll be disowned by my brothers when they find out the truth about me. And now that happy place has been ripped away from me and I’m anxious about queer characters being allowed to exist and live on screen. I just...... I just wanted to have that safe space to forget how shitty it can be sometimes. We know that dragons exist. I wanted to see the dragons slayed.

[official-mermaid]

IM SORRY IT HURT I LOVE YOU *wraps a blanket around your shoulders*

I CAN’T EVEN BE MAD AT YOU, IT WAS SO GOOD, AND I’M HAVING SO MANY FEELINGS

thank u for the blanket i feel better

[ramblingsofaqueerwoman]

Also, I meant it. Yes to All.

[laynie-draws]

Pastel Goth + Stars

[gothhabiba]

talk more about sonnets, maybe?

I could talk about sonnets for hours. I once wrote a sonnet about how I could talk about sonnets for hours. I don’t know that I have anything particularly original to say but there is a lot that I like about them.

sonnets are, I think, perceived in the popular imagination (insofar as they are thought of at all) as a very rigid form. this interacts interestingly with the fact that many of them, especially early sonnets in Italian and English, are about the experience of love: Peter Holland writes in the Pelican Shakespeare introduction to Romeo and Juliet that

The form of a sonnet, whatever its particular choice of rhyme scheme, encloses the explosive desire of which the poem tries to speak. As the poet describes the limitless extent of his love, the claim of infinite emotion is held within the rigidity of the formal structure.

(the sonnet that Romeo & Juliet compose together in the play, by the way, fascinates me because, as a form of communication between the two characters, it actually enacts or embodies that love in a way that goes beyond the merely descriptive. I don’t think that he quite makes this point, but Robin Headlam Wells talks a lot about the language of R&J in “Neo-Petrarchan Kitsch in ‘Romeo and Juliet’” [The Modern Language Review, vol. 93, no. 4, 1998, pp. 913–933.] I also expand on the point in an essay I wrote in uh undergrad that I can dig up if anyone is interested.)

for me, though, the underlying rigidity of the form is more of a jumping-off point or a tool than a constraint (and any decent writer in any fixed form will, I think, think about it like this). the form becomes a kind of framework--meaning both, in a fairly literal sense, a gridwork of interlocking parts vertically (rhyme) & horizontally (meter), but also, more figuratively, a conceptual structure or frame of reference that you can consider any given sonnet in relation to. when we understand every sonnet as strategically differing more or less from that underlying (idealised, impossible) frame, what comes to the fore is in fact not the sonnet’s rigidity but its elasticity. Laynie Browne calls for “serious playfulness in form” & I think that’s a perfect expression of what’s needed when writing a sonnet (or sonnet variation, or “vagary” as I’ve been calling them).

within the first definition of “framework” & when we consider (to draw a slightly artificial line) only traditional sonnets, some of that meaningful variation from an underlying structure comes from accepted metrical substitutions in iambic meter (where multiple adjacent stressed syllables arising from e.g. trochaic & spondaic substitutions can slow down a line, & multiple adjacent weak syllables arising from anapestic or pyrrhic substitutions can speed it up, as Alexander Pope famously demonstrates in “An Essay on Criticism” [“when Ajax strives...”]). using this kind of variation can also conversely make stricter adherence to iambic meter (a sort of “nursery rhyme” feel that can arise from using a lot of shorter words so that primary & secondary stresses within words don’t interact too much with the meter) meaningful in its own right, as in my “Sonnets to the Sickly”: the meter in “wake and doze / And wake by turns in restless fits and halts” mimics the motions that it is describing. talking about how meter structures & interacts with prosody (and syntax, and diction) is maybe beyond the scope of what I want to talk about right now, but the central point is that meter, in giving us a standard of comparison, lets us know how to evaluate these shifts in rhythm. rhyme, similarly, shouldn’t be thought of merely as a requirement to fulfil but as a tool that can be used to highlight similarly or to (ironically) highlight a disjunct between two concepts (Paul Fussell talks about this in the chapter titled “Structural Principles: The Example of the Sonnet” in Poetic Meter and Poetic Form), or to otherwise guide or alter our experience of poetic time.

the second sense of “framework” (to the extent that the two senses can be differentiated), though, is the one that’s especially interesting to me. the act of writing or reading a sonnet is in conversation with the entire history of the form, from the Italians, to the sonnet sequence craze in the late 1500s, to the revival of the form by English women in the 19th century, to the use of the form by Americans in the 1920s & its place with an African-American poetic tradition. I say “to the extent that differentiation is possible” because all of these variations on the sonnet tradition also altered its formal qualities: the use of iambic meter & the shift from a “Petrarchan” to a “Shakespearean” rhyme scheme were both variations on the sonnet form that were necessary or helpful in adapting it to the prosody and phonology of (the rhyme-poor, compared to Italian) English language. a lot of other variations on the rhyme scheme of sonnets (and especially the sestet) occur, including some idiosyncratic ones that are only really used for the space of one poem--& yet they produce results that clearly operate within the tradition of the sonnet form.

all of this history & expectation in both form and genre can yield a very rich jumping-off point for anyone who’s interested in using it--women, for example, merely in appropriating a kind of metered poetry that was thought to be the proper province of men, were already making a general statement that the particulars of their poetic language could then interact with, add to, rely upon, or try to disguise. Black writers’ formal innovations (think of Claude McKay or Wanda Coleman) took, I think, the sonnet as an illustration, container, working-out-of, or symbol of a particular kind of white patriarchal logic, such that changes to its form (& here’s where we get away from what would count as a “traditional” sonnet in terms of rhyme and meter, to whatever extent that line can be drawn) can introduce, suggest, work out, or demonstrate an alternative logic, or produce, act out, or reaffirm non-white, non-Enlightenment epistemologies. or to look at this the other way around, non-white epistemologies cannot be adequately “held” (to use Holland’s term) within the traditional sonnet form and must seek places of disjunction or rupture in form and diction. the question that arises is of course “then why not just write free form?”--but to me, the implied reference to European logic (& other educated European trends in poetry, including the body of references to e.g. classical Greek and Latin literature that are assumed to be shared) & the demonstration of its breakage or failure to contain something, its failure to make a certain kind of expression possible, is actually the point. the form (sort of like genre in music, I think) lets you know “how” to read something, tells you what is being referenced so that you can understand the poem immediately at hand in terms of its relation to it (whether it’s calling upon, praising, modifying, criticising, or any combination thereof).

to take a few small examples of variation from “traditional” sonnet forms, & how those variations can encode or suggest meaning, from my own oeuvre: “Sonnets for the Sickly” clearly draws upon the traditional of the sonnet cycle. according to Wikipedia:

A sonnet cycle is a group of sonnets, arranged to address a particular person or theme, and designed to be read both as a collection of fully realized individual poems and as a single poetic work comprising all the individual sonnets. A sonnet cycle may have any theme, but unrequited love is the most common. The arrangement of the sonnets generally reflects thematic concerns, with chronological arrangements (whether linear, like a progression, or cyclical, like the seasons) being the most common.

the poem is broken up on the page into five individual sonnets, it does address a particular person or theme (the trope of the sickly woman in 19th-century literature), & it does treat unrequited love--but none of the sonnets can actually be read on their own, & the poem’s logic is not linear or chronological. each sonnet in fact bleeds into the next one--the first sonnet, importantly, does so on the word continuation, such that the diction of the poem provides a kind of clew to how the sonnets will function (“I your continuation / And I your champion!”). the fact that I’m clearly referencing a form that is usually composed of self-contained sonnets allows the fact that these sonnets are not self-contained to stand out in sharp relief. & this bleeding over was, in fact, necessary to the logic of the poem, to what I wanted to talk about--the physically felt continuation of an idea or trope through (historical, bodily, literary) time. the rhyme scheme--a sort of combination of Petrarchan & Shakespearean schemes with an extra twist--is similarly mirrored & calls upon the idea of continuation: abba cddc effe aa.

“sonnetine / vagary no. 1″ similarly calls upon the 19th century & its sonnet tradition (though the title also echoes musical forms such as the sonatine, with which there’s of course an etymological connexion given the source of the word “sonnet”). it references smooth, silk-based fabrics popular in the 19th century (sarcenet & crepe de chine) as a short-hand to talk about the past, fragility, cruelty, unsustainability. the lineation in the poem is strange, and combines the idea of a royal flush sonnet (aaaa aaaa aaaaaa)--if you just look at where the line cuts off--with an envelope or modified Petrarchan sonnet (abba cddc ~efgefg or something similar)--if you look at the whole word (vetted / fretted, fetters / debtors). again, there’s a clew to what this sonnet’s form is playing with in the diction of the sonnet itself: “frett- / ed lining.” the volta is a transition from talking about destruction to talking about making anew (“retting” hemp to make cloth representing sustainability, durability, being forward-thinking). the sonnet cuts off before the end in order to demonstrate the slowness & the (by definition) uncompleted nature of this process. only the understanding that a sonnet “should” have a designated length allows me to say that I’ve cut anything off “early.”

“reversed sonnet / vagary no. 2″ also has a clew to its weirdness within its diction: “unexpected ictus,” where “ictus” can refer to the onset of an illness, but also to a stressed syllable in a metrical line. the “ictus” in the sonnet is unexpected because it’s written in trochaic, not iambic, meter. the sestet also occurs before the octave (putting the volta rather early in the poem), & the first, not the last, word of each line is rhymed. thus, kind of along the lines of what I was talking about where alternate epistemologies can be mapped out or explored through deviations in form, the “weird” formal innovation allows me to demonstrate the strange “logic” and “chronology” of sickness (understanding the poem, of course, not only as a fixed series of words upon a page but as an experience that occurs throughout time as you read it).

one last note: the fact that we experience poetry through time is part of what endears sonnets to me. they’re so compact in time & in space. more of the experience of reading them seems to occur within a perceptual present than can be said of a longer form. the spacing of the rhymes interacts with our cognition and memory to keep those sounds relevant within a small timeframe. Browne writes:

All form is time. I think of the modern sonnet as an increment of time within a frame. Something that often physically fits into a little rectangle (but not in thought). Something you can utter in one long convulsive breath or hold in your palm. When my hand covers the page it disappears. It's a controlled measure of sound and space within which one can do anything. An invitation.

“invitation” is a perfect description for how I conceive of sonnets. volta is originally the turn in a sonnet from the “problem” of the octave and the “solution” of the sestet, but imo a sonnet doesn’t so much solve or resolve a problem so much as invite you to think about one. it’s just long enough to encapsulate one thought, one perspective, or one proposed solution.

[angelicillusions]

Name: Karalayna Amora Ikelos. Pronunciation:  Kar-ah-lai-nah Ah-mowr-ah Eye-kay-lows. Nickname/s: Kara, Layna, Laynie, Kar, Aralay, Alayna. Physical Age: 24. Real Age: 2,451 Birthday: June 21st, 432 BCE. Zodiac Sign: Cancer. Birth Place: Vankila, Seelie Realm. Current Residence: Los Angeles, California. Occupation: IT Analyst. Sexuality: Pansexual. Alignment: Chaotic Good. Species: Eroseelie. Marital Status: Single.

Personality: Karalayna has always felt like the outlier. Her world was surrounded by those who were crueler, didn’t value life and didn’t understand things like empathy and sympathy. She had always been different, even from the start. Where others of her kind were selfish, holding out for only themselves and being shocked when someone extended kindness or sympathy to them, she was kind, selfless, and tried to help those she came across, even though they were more likely to stab her in the back than they were to return to favor. She always felt compassion was its own reward, and was never the type to ask for anything in return for the good deeds she did. In the world innocence went to die, she held onto a wonderment in the world, and had an optimism that most others didn’t possess. Things changed as she grew older. The kinder she acted, the more she was greeted with cruelty. She was called weak, told that loving others made her weak. She had to try and internalize what she felt so she wasn’t singled out. She learned to disguise what she felt. The acting and pretending that she was like the others taught her how to lie and deceive, though she’s not proud of this side of herself. She’s better at construing larger, more elaborate lies, but when it comes to tell white lies she often falls short and most can tell she’s lying. Karalayna typically only uses her more deceptive side when it comes to hiding what she is and who she is, otherwise she prides herself on honesty and tries her best to be open with others. She’s very moral and has a strong compass that guides her actions and makes her try to fight for what she believes is right. She’s very compassionate. She cares about others deeply and is the type to try to protect those who can’t always protect themselves, especially the humans who know so little about the supernatural around them. She’s incredibly defensive of humanity, and holds a high regard for human life and those within it. When it comes to those she cares about, she’s incredibly kind, and always puts those who she cares about above herself, even if it means danger to herself. Karalayna is rather awkward, nervous and clumsy. She doesn’t do so well when it comes to first meetings, and if she’s particularly intimidated by a person, whether it’s by their beauty, their skills, etc. she has the tendency to stumble over her words, or blurt things out without truly thinking about what she’s saying. Karalayna is often over-apologizing for when she’s in her more bumbling and awkward state, especially when she’s nervous about something. She’s got the tendency to babble, and quickly becomes embarrassed by what she says when she forgets to censor herself. While she’s confident in her abilities of things like learning and technological savvy, she can be rather insecure about herself. Karalayna is intelligent, determined and hard-working. She’s got a creative, crafty mind and does well with problem solving. She’s a fast learner, and has a high capacity for learning and picking up on things. When she’s determined to do something, she battens down and always strives to bring out the best of herself and her ability. Her problem solving nature also makes her rather curious and her penchant for learning things and piecing together mysteries has the tendency to lead her into trouble. She’s not the type to back down or hide even when she’s in a dangerous situation, and knows how to be brave and strong. Karalayna is patient, and knows how to wait for things. When she is comfortable with somebody she has the tendency to be somewhat sarcastic and witty, but typically doesn’t go above and beyond to a level that would hurt someone. She’s often the type to use humor, even in dark situations. Despite her past, Karalayna is trusting, and believes in giving others the chance to do the right thing. She isn’t afraid to stand her ground, and will hold up what she believes in. At times she can be rather stubborn about what she’s thinking, and it can take a great deal of sway to try and change her mind. Though her mind isn’t easy to change, it can be changed. When she makes decisions though, she does try to follow through with them.

Biography: Karalayna was the fifth and last child born to King Kian and his favored concubine Odelle. She was conceived during one of Odelle’s fertility periods, in which the King serviced her. Like his other children with Odelle, he had every intention of acknowledging the children and accepting them in his line of heirs. However, unlike his other children, he was not expecting Karalayna to be a girl. For many months, Odelle and Kian were told that the child that Odelle carried was a boy. The King was overjoyed, another son. He’d had a particular distaste for women since his mother and his experience with her. And with his bravado and certainty he would not face death, he could laugh about the fact if somehow someone did manage to bring him down, he would have five heirs to back up the throne and continue in his practice.

Two months before the due date, Odelle went into labor. It was a long labor, and while many healers of their kind tried to prolong the labor so the child had a greater chance for survival, after about thirty hours, not even the strongest magic could hold back Karalayna. And so she was born. She was born on the Summer Solstice, in Odelle’s chambers. Because of the particular case of the birth, even the King was present for it, something unseen even with his four prior acknowledged songs. It was a shock to everyone to find the child that came from Odelle was not a boy but a girl. The king was undoubtedly frustrated that he did not have another Prince, but a princess. However, he took stock that he already had four possible heirs, and in part his own arrogance made him think he did not need even one, so he came to terms with the fact that his youngest was a daughter and acknowledged her as well. Karalayna’s birth was not without lasting effect, as her mother was left unable to bear children after her birth.

Karalayna was spoiled and pampered. She was a princess, and was given no less than the best. She had the finest food, the most elaborate clothing, the only thing she was truly missing was the one thing she craved even as a little girl, true affection and love. It was clear from even her birth, she was different, and it showed as early as her toddler stage how. She didn’t have a muting on her emotions, no watered down version of feelings. She could feel things more deeply than those around her, possibly even more deeply than humans. Yet she was trapped in a world where emotion was not just frowned upon, but made one weak. Her brothers – being as in depth in their nature as they were – ignored and rarely ever paid the slightest drop of attention to her. They were indifferent to her existence. She didn’t provide a threat to the throne they wanted, as nobody truly took her seriously for being in line for the throne, and they didn’t take her as worth their time. Her father, while he paid attention to her at times, showering her with pretty jewels and gowns, he showed no true love, and at the slightest sign of having her own mind he’d cut down those thoughts. Her mother was the closest she ever to true care. The woman had affection for all of her child, but clearly favored Kara. She’d often spend time teaching Kara how to do different things she often said she had been unable to teach her sons. She wasn’t so outright with it, but Karalayna was certain there had to be something there, more than what she saw. Her mother was also the one who taught her to fly when she was three.

Karalayna reached maturity in her mid-twenties, ceasing the aging process and becoming immortal like all the eroseelie did. The difference was still there, the depth of emotion, a heart that she clearly had where others might not have so clearly. She struggled in her world, with the coldness of it, with the constant motion and how everything seemed to matter so little. So many seemed to just waste away their immortality, and while she disdained the fact that she often felt so alone, she almost envied those who didn’t have to feel as strongly as she did, because then they wouldn’t have to feel the pain that came with being so truly lonely. She did her best to hide it, so she could blend in and not face the wrath of her kind. She spent many years of this, blending in, forcing herself not to show everything she felt. She took lovers into her bed during her fertility periods, pretended to enjoy the lavish nature of her life style, and acted as if she was a normal eroseelie. It was not easy, and all the years she had to do this for slowly chipped away at her, haunting her.

When Karalayna was in her early first few centuries, she and her mother were having a brunch when her father’s men stormed the room, dragging her mother away from her. Kara couldn’t remain stone faced during this and ended up fighting as hard as she could to defend the woman she cared about. She managed to incapacitate three of her father’s men, but soon she was also brought down. When she awoke she was in her chambers, under heavy guard. Weeks passed, and supposed information poured in about her mother committing infidelities. She was not allowed to leave her room, but she could hear the guards gossiping while she wondered what would come of her mother, and what would come of herself.

About six weeks after her mother’s arrest, Kayalayna awoke in her room when guards came in with a gown for her. She was ordered to dress and accompany the guards downstairs. She had hoped it meant the end of her bedroom arrest and that the gown and invitation was her father’s way of making peace. It wasn’t as if he was the type to apologize for what he did. So she dressed, she walked down to the throne room where her father sat. And she was forced to watch as her father drove a sword carved from rowan wood through her mother’s chest. Karalayna tried to get to her mother, but she was restrained as she watched those last agonizing moments.

Karalayna was haunted by the death. The one woman who’d come the closest to affection was gone, and she was left in a cruel world with a father who had enjoyed as he skewered the woman he’d once been rumored to love. She put herself on a house arrest of sorts, locking herself away in her chambers. For years she stayed in the solitude, rarely leaving. When she did leave it was for food, and she didn’t speak to anyway. She spiraled into a depression, haunted by nightmares of what she had seen, reliving the horror of her own helplessness over and over.

Eventually, her depression drove her to a sort of madness, and she wanted to erase all the memories of her mother. She destroyed items given to her by the woman, yet the memories still remained. She somehow came to get it in her head that her wings were just another reminder of her mother and the fact she was no longer there. She obtained an iron blade and attempted to carve her right wing from her back. She passed out before she could complete the process, but was left with a nasty scar along her shoulder blade to show for what she’d done to herself. It was after that when healers started drugging her, so she wouldn’t be such a danger to herself.

Two weeks into the drugging, she forced herself out of her depression, or at least found the foundation for trying to climb her way out of it. The drugging had only meant she was asleep and weak more often. And when she was sleeping and weak, she was vulnerable to the awful nightmares of her mother. It was torture, constantly seeing the repeats of her mother’s death, or seeing memories she’d shared with her mother contorted by the awful horrid event. It was enough that she at least pretended to be better long enough to make the steps to actually recovering somewhat from the entire incident. It took decades for her to find any true peace with it, and even then there was so much unrest it would only take something painful to trigger the horror of it.

Months turned to years, and years turned to decades and decades turned to centuries. So much time blurred together, but Karalayna was still the same person she had always been, a fish out of water among her own kind. She was different fundamentally, with the powers and the looks of those around her, but not the soul. She tried many things, even tried immersing herself in the culture of her people to escape what was inside of her. But nothing seemed to work. She could not shake what she had been born with. Her father had tried to some degree, recognizing her softness. Anytime she would grow someone attached to anyone that seemed beyond that of something physical, she would be forced to watch them die in the same manner her mother had killed. Three lovers of her went like that. Convenient crimes popping up that gave her father grounds to execute them. Not that he needed those grounds. He was a king. She often imagined he did such things to mock her.

Some of the eroseelie left their realm, escaping through worn holes in the fiber of the wards holding them in place. They had tried to escape into the seelie realm, only to be face with death and torture as a result. Instead they found themselves in the human world. Some would bring back stories of the humans, and the world they lived in. It was one of the things that always intrigued Karalayna. The times she felt most alive was when the latest eroseelie would return with news or artifacts from the human realm. She busied herself by speaking to those eroseelie, learning the ways of humans. She felt a kinship to them more so than she did her own people, though she passed off her interest as a clinical curiosity. It was always believed that Kian’s line would be incapable of leaving the realm, because of the fact Kian’s very blood bound the warding that held them in place. It wasn’t until the early 1990’s in the human realm did Karalayna’s brothers discover otherwise.

It happened on one of those rare days where Karalayna was actually with those who were her blood kin. They were spending at one of the lakes down by the warding edge. It wasn’t anything special really. A normal day. Her brothers roughhousing and wrestling about in the water, closer to each other than they’d ever be to Karalayna. And Karalayna laying at a distance, flipping through the pages of a book. She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but as things often did with the colder nature her brother’s held, the lack of care caused one thing to escalate to another. Her brother Oryn telekinetically threw her other brother smack into the warding. Only he didn’t slam into the invisible force field, he passed through. For moments, panic gripped them all. Soon enough, Dax decided to investigate. The ward was in place where he touched below where Averett had been thrown. When he touched where he’d been thrown, his hand passed through. And so Dax used his powers to push through that tear. One by one her other brothers followed. Karalayna was the last. The tear opened in Virginia in the human world.

Cautiously, they explored what they could of the human world, being smart enough to use their glamor so they appeared to be humans, rescinding their wings and dulling their powers. Karalayna, despite her cold relationship with her brothers, stuck by their sides for the better part of the day, breaking off only two hours before they were pulled back. Those two hours were some of the best of her life. Finally, she didn’t have to hide her soul from others. She could smile, and she could be genuine. Those things had been so long dormant she felt stiff calling up the behaviors that were part of her. Yet it brought her the feeling of being alive. She craved it. And then she was pulled away, pulled back into Vankila.

A blast of power dragged her back, an extension of the warding. She found herself back in the woods that had been near where she and her brother’s had lounged earlier. When she got back to the castle, her brothers were there. Her father seemed completely tickled that his blood and flesh had gotten through the warding, even if it had been only temporary. He assumed that it was because of their mother’s blood that they could have been able to escape for that short time. It became a regular thing. Sometimes one brother went out, sometimes two, sometimes three and sometimes four. Always with a fleet of guards, often testing out the different rips in the warding.

Sometimes she was also allowed to leave. She was allowed to accompany her brothers out into the human world. She never quite got to venture away from them though. There was no more going off on her own. Instead she was forced to watch the chaos those of her species put onto the world. She had to see their loose morals and inability to feel allow them to commit such horrid acts as unleashing their power onto the poor unwitting humans and forcing them into their control. She watched the creatures she felt so attached to willingly march to their death just to get what the power of her species made them crave.

A few times she had tried to intercede. She was often punished for that. The first time she tried to intercede, she had been whipped five times. The second time she’d been locked away in solitary confinement. And the third time her father lanced power debilitating crystals through her hands. The latter left her weak for two weeks. Once more, she was forced into silence, into being quiet. Her whole life in her world had been spent muting who she was, but now her time in this world of promise she had to spend muting what she was as well.

Her breaking point soon came. It had started relatively normally, she was attending one of her brothers to the human world in the early 2000’s. He had been on the hunt for a human woman to turn to his ways and contort to what he wanted. He found a girl he was interested in, and decided to partake in a game of genuinely trying to draw her in before he unleashed his powers on her. He managed to get her back to an apartment that was one of many her family was renting so they had a temporary residence in those few hours they could spend in the human world. Karalayna under her usual orders was to attend him where he went, so she too returned. She went to one of the two rooms, not wanting to see what came next. Only when her brother went to unleash the power, it didn’t work. The woman was resistant to the magic her brother could access. Karalayna left her room when she heard the woman screaming. Her brother, with that limited eroseelie comprehension forced the woman into being with him, and the moment Karalayna had left her room she was locked in place by a guard.

They returned home immediately after, and Karalayna was resolved on what she had to do.

Weeks, Karalayna spent weeks trying to come up with a plan. She knew she had to get out. She knew that if she could not stop each of her brothers, she could no longer support what they were doing by watching as a bystander. She would find a way to try and stop it when she got out. The plan was not an easy one to form at first. There were many obstacles, such as the fact she could only leave for a few hours at a time. She knew leaving was something she would only be able to do once, even then she would be chased after. That was just another of the obstacles she would have to face.

It was not an easy task. Eventually the answer came when she had been looking at the vacant crystals her father had had crafted into a set of earrings, the ones that had one held the power to debilitate her powers long enough for her punishment to be served, the ones that had become earrings as a reminder of her father’s will. She realized that if she used enough of the power muting and perhaps a weaker one of those crystals, she could trick the barrier into thinking that she was not one of her father’s bloodline. All those of her father’s bloodline who had passed through had been strong and powerful, and it was not the blood the barrier looked for to track the person down, but their power. It was purely a theory at first.

But she eventually tested it through observing the people entering and leaving the realm, and observing the spellwork in the ward itself. Slowly, she gained enough evidence to believe that her theory was right. Next she located her own crystal, one that had not been enriched by power yet, but also not one that had been burned out of such power. She took the crystal and brought it to one of the ‘thugs’ of her kind. She paid the person handsomely to enchant it with a far weaker version of the spell on the crystals her father had impaled in her hands. It was enough to compliment her own power muting, but not enough to completely drown and weaken her like her father’s crystals had been.

She chose the night, the busy night of the Winter Solstice. Most of her kind would be wrapped up in celebrations. That night she packed a few things, mostly her journals from over the years, and then headed off. She used a bracelet that had been composed with the crystal she’d had enchanted and a combination of her muting power this time. She didn’t have to escape through a tear. This time she walked right through, and felt the true freedom for once. She knew people would come looking for her, but she kept her powers muted enough so they couldn’t send people that way. Slowly, when she felt less paranoid and inclined to skip towns every few weeks, she started to settle in.

Karalayna found a home in the human realm. She acclimated, learned to fit in. Even though her species was different, and she had to hide that, she felt more at home in the realm than she ever had in her world. She adapted to the new world, learned how to keep herself safe. For a while, she had become so wrapped up in that new buzz of finally feeling at home somewhere that she forgot what had driven her there in the first place. It wasn’t until the eroseelie invaded the city she had come to call home. It was only a few of them and she’d barely caught them out of the corner of her eye. She knew what they were going to do.

She became driven to do what she could to stop it. She couldn’t use masses of her powers because of the constant muting she did, but she became driven to learn another way to defend the precious gift she felt was humanity. Karalayna started to attend school in the human world. At first she was dawn towards law enforcement, surely they would be the best option. But she soon realized she had an aptitude for computers. From there, she learned more. She used her intelligence and dedication to learn as much as she possibly could about technology and how to use it as a weapon.

A few years later she had set up a unique web that allowed her to detect the movement of the eroseelie. It alerted her of apartment rentals, purchases. At first just under the names her family had used. But soon she picked up on more eroseelie aliases, and used those as well. During the day, she spent her time immersed in her human realm, working as an IT girl at some company in Los Angeles. But when she wasn’t doing that she was tracking and searching down every possible member of her kind and doing whatever it took to drive them out from the human world.

[noelcades]

Adeline's Aria by Laynie Bynum

Adeline’s Aria by Laynie Bynum

Click for book link

This was a highly enjoyable read: a real “wish fulfilment” romance fantasy of a US high school student falling in love with a famous British rock star/Hollywood actor.

I did enjoy the first half most. There was a sense of realism – almost like a teenage girl’s diary – about the emotions that Addy went through. Jude Blair was perhaps rather more what a teenage girl would like…

[sapphicambitions]

.

[sapphicambitions]

Me, a week ago: anxious about covid and not understanding the concept of social distancing and terrified of my theatre shutting down in the wake of it and literally having a panic attack at work because of it VS Me, four days ago: being furious at my bosses for ignoring the severity of the covid threat and forcing the entire staff to continue coming into work and putting us all at risk when the country is on track for a lockdown quarantine VS Me, today: theatre shutdown so I can effectively self quarantine and do my part in not potentially spreading the virus but also out of a job and forced to reckon with the fact that I will be alone with myself in my apartment for the next two weeks and foreseeable future

[sapphicambitions]

Okay wow I found the audio book on YouTube and I shit you not, I heard “Quentin did a magic trick. Nobody noticed.” And I started crying??????????????????? I miss him so much.

[sapphicambitions]

I just wanna take a moment to say how grateful I am for the people in my life right now. A few weeks ago, I was very fourth season Quentin Coldwater. I was not in a good place and it was kind of scary. But unlike Quentin’s friends my friends saw that I wasn’t okay and checked in on me. And reached out to me. And made sure I knew how much they cared about me. And started making an extra effort to get me out of my apartment. And made an extra effort to make plans with me. And made an extra effort to tell me every day how much they loved me. Three weeks ago, I was convinced no one cared about my existence or if I lived. But because the people in my life stepped up, I feel so so loved and backed by a community that I know cares about me. And I have a reason to keep going. And life is still hard, but now I know that I have people I can lean on and face the unknown future with. And frankly, that’s the message that this season should’ve have gotten across. So if you’ve been someone in my life that’s shown me love recently, know that I am so unbelievably grateful for saving me. 🧡💜

[sapphicambitions]

You are the one who makes me think that magic might exist; if not within each living thing, then at least within you; for you are magical, my dear—that is, quite simply, true; and I would follow you into the depths, out on the blue, and even up into the sky, if you wanted me to.

It’s my Eager Sunshine vibes showing isn’t it

[sapphicambitions]

For Sophie.

Always, for you, my love.

For you, when I light a white candle.

For you, when I feel the spring breeze.

For you, when I speak my mind.

For you, in everything I do.

I wish you had lived to see the world.

To see it change into a better place.

I wish you had lived passed its horrors.

The Unspeakable Horrors.

I wish you had lived.

I wish I could visit your grave.

I would lay white roses on your headstone.

I would lay another letter at your feet.

I would water your grave with my tears,

Wishing I could wash your pain away.

Gone, but never forgotten, you said.

I won’t let you go that easily.

Your name is always on the tip of my tongue.

Your touch is seared into my skin.

You wanted to be remembered.

I remember that much.

I consider it my life’s mission.

To remember your life.

To remember your name.

To tell your story.

To carry on your fight.

To sing your name from the mountains.

To whisper it like a prayer.

I pray to you, can you hear me?

Do you feel me tugging at your spirit?

Do you see the influence you’ve had

On my life, long after your death?

Do you see your impact on the world?

Do you know you were taken too soon?

The history books may not always

Remember your name. But I will.

I will carry you with me,

In my writing,

In my heart,

In my voice,

In my fight,

In my Rose tattoo,

In everything I do.

In you, I found myself.

In you, I discovered my fight.

In you, I discovered my rage, rage,

Against the dying of the light.

You’re more than just

an old photograph,

or pile of letters

or forgotten memories

that I clutch to my chest.

You are my guiding light.

My sweet protector.

My greatest teacher.

My deepest love.

So, for you, my love.

For you, I keep going.

For you, I keep living.

For you, I keep fighting.

In all the ways that were taken from you.

For you, my love.

For you, my Sophie.

[im-the-punk-who]

Toby Stephens Thirstography #1 - Black Sails (2014-2017)

Toby Stephens Hotness: The Pre-Chorus Of Uptown Funk Was Written About Toby Stephens In Black Sails

Okay, so I dithered about this rating for SO LONG but honestly? Nothing else in Toby’s filmography will ever be close to Black Sails. As I’m sure everyone is aware, Toby Stephens is perfect but it’s especially true in Black Sails. Long haired McGraw? Perfect. Bald and Beardy? Perfect. Ponytail Season 1 Flint crying about his (as yet unrevealed) gay lover? Absolutely Flawless. THIGHS? Could crush a skull like sparrows egg. Frequently shirtless and covered in freckles? My soul has left my body. Need I go on? Just watch Black Sails. 

This really is hands down the best role Toby has ever had, and there’s a little bit of something for everyone. I wouldn’t necessarily say this is “the hottest” Toby Stephens but it is the one that has the most range, and screen time, and like, whatever your thirst, Black Sails has a look for that. And so many emotions. This is one of those times where quantity really does win over quality. If you’re only going to watch one thing with Toby Stephens in it, Black Sails is really the only answer anyone could ever give.

James Flint-McGraw-Hamilton owns my entire heart and I can and will fight about it. But honestly, I’m pretty sure he owns everyone else’s heart too so. Y’know.

Plot: 10/10*

England is terrible and James McGraw is mad about it. Or, this is a prequel to Treasure Island except if literally everyone was queer. Or, Please Do Not Anger The Gay Gingers. 

Black Sails, at its heart, is a story about stories: who tells them, how they tell them. It is a story that drives home that everyone has a bias to the parts of the story they tell: that everyone has a different reason for the stories they choose or do not choose to let see the light of day. It is a story that will challenge you to think differently not just about every other piece of media you consume but your own life - and the stories you are telling. (Like, my personal story is that right now I’m crying and whether or not it’s true that’s the story I want you to believe, so I’m telling it to you.)

I have cried, and laughed, and had just about every other emotion about this show. There are actual canon main queer characters who get actual canon main queer character romances, deep nuanced discussions of social progress, how movements fail and why, who is left out of what historians will say prevailed, and all in a way that feels so very real and human it leaves a huge gaping hole in my chest every time. 

*I promised I’d only say this once: The plot of Black Sails and I have our differences, and it is not perfect. Most of the show is technically flawless but there are parts - sometimes big parts - that are not. And that’s okay! Enjoying flawed media is okay! But I feel like it has to be said because while it absolutely deserves that ten, I don’t want to mislead you into thinking this is a perfect show.

With that said, I have watched this show....I think about 6 times all the way through at the time of typing this, and I’m on my 7th or 8th rewatch, depending on which friend group you ask. There is an incredible wealth of really rich writing, really clever writing, and yes - really game-changing writing. It’s the kind of show in which you will catch new things every time you watch it. 

I don’t know what to tell you except just. Watch Black Sails. Do it with your eyes open because as I’ve said this is not a perfect show and sometimes the writers do tell on themselves, but....it’s just about as close as I’ve ever seen a major series come to it. And I love James McGraw enough to forgive them the rest. 

(Did I mention that the backbone of the entire show is the motivation of one of its queer characters? That you literally cannot remove queerness from Black Sails and still have any part of the plot work? Cool, now I have.)

Watchability: 9/10

Watchability game is strong. 

Black Sails is chock full of humor, exciting ship battles, historical easter eggs, queers, women, people of color(sometimes all three in one!), and really some of the best writing in terms of plot cohesion I’ve ever seen. The costumes and scenery is breathtaking, every single one of the actors showed the fuck up every day...listen could I write more? Yes. I have. But really - just.

... do I have to say it? 

(Watch Black Sails.)

Black Sails is one of those shows that is going to affect everyone differently, and I’m too aware of my own bias to give it a true 10, but there is very little Black Sails gets wrong once it gets going. The first season makes some Choices, and towards the back end of the show it can feel like the writers ran out of metaphorical poster board for their happy birthday sign of a show, but on the whole definitely, 100% worth the go. 

Warnings: 

Graphic depiction(s) of r*pe in S1 and mentions of it in S2, general gore throughout. Although, I hate blood and guts stuff and it only twice really bothered me. Depictions of period typical racism and slavery throughout. @a-gay-coded-villain has made this super thorough, handy dandy So You Think You Can Dance Watch Black Sails (Laynie I’m so sorry I had to) guide that includes most of the major trigger warnings. Make sure you take a look - especially if violence against women bothers you.

Where to Watch:

Hulu is the main place to find this but it is also on Netflix in some countries and on DailyMotion