#the problem of orcs

[eri-pl]

Wait, no, Orcs from Elves makes perfect sense!

"But"— you say —"Are the Elves not immortal? And the Orcs perish after but a few years."

Nay. The Elves are, indeed, immortal, but they do die from grief. And what is the orcish existence if not grief, spread out on days and months and years? They do not die from reaching their alloted end (though it does seem so to those who behold it), they perish from the amounted torment of their corrupted bodies.

[mikehasfleas]

Most annoying thing to remember is that you're litterally just a homosapien. You're just a very smart animal. If you feel like shit, imagine you're an exotic pet for some alien species and do what they'd do to keep you healthy. You gotta be well cared for. Animal abuse is a crime for a reason

"My pet human, Greg, hasn't left his bed in a long time. He's just scrolling his phone all day" Greg needs enrichment. Add enrichment in his enclosure and take him on walks

"Greg has been super lethargic and sad recently for seemingly no reason" Greg need vitamins, take him outside for some vitamin D and fresh air. Perhaps a picnic

"Greg won't sleep even though he's been super lethargic" Greg needs a schedule, especially for the lights in his enclosure.

"Greg has been super distant recently and keeps crying to sad music" Humans are pack animals, he needs to hug another human and hang out. Perhaps pack bond with a rock together

"Greg has been flailing around and panicking, his breathing is way faster than it should be" Greg is overwhelmed. Take Greg out of the situation and give him time to calm down. Perhaps somewhere cozy with tea and a movie

"Greg won't do what he needs to do" Train him. Humans do great with positive reinforcement, give him little treats when he's doing good

"Greg he's been super anxious and tired, he can't seem to enjoy his days" Humans needs to move around. Give Greg something to exercise with. Things like stretching, weight lifting, walking, or even dancing will help

"Even though I've taken really good care of Greg, he still has been having issues" Greg is ill, take him to the doctor. You might need a specialist (therapist, optometrist, oncologist, etc)

I know it feels patronizing, and I know it feels embarrassing or that you're "just giving into the clichés", but you are literally just a creature. You need to sleep/eat on time, you need enrichment, and you need to take care of your social needs. Humans are complicated animals, but they are also beautiful and all deserve proper care. This obviously isn't a perfect analogy, nothing is, but if you saw your friend taking care of their pet the way you take care of yourself, would you be concerned?

[anghraine]

It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.

If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.

Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.

I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.

There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.

This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.

Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.

Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.

And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.

And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."

[boopjuice]

Human's Are Space Orcs: Sticks and Stones

Tools are hardly uncommon in the Galactic Federation. Without them, not a single species would have been able to advance, create sustainable food sources, societies, spacecraft. But, for most species, tools have advanced alongside the species.

"Human Jane, what is that you are holding?"

"A stick."

"... Why do you have a stick?"

"In case I need to scratch my back, duh. Or to hit the engine if it acts up again."

Humans, as with much else, didn't get the memo.

Chi'l'zak had spent several cycles with humans, even spending time on their native planet and some of their interstellar colonies. Their weather was horrifying, and their culture so diverse it gave xem whiplash. It was on one of these trips that xe learned of the human's particular affinity for tools.

Xe was at what Human Sarah had called a 'beach' at one of the colonies, and xe saw as an adolescent human began to dig a fire pit. Except, instead of using a shovel, he had grabbed a nearby piece of driftwood and began to use it to dig. Xe was certain the efforts would be fruitless, the stick being rounded and not suitable for digging. But in twenty minutes there was a pit a meter deep, deeper if one counted the walls the adolescent human had made from the excavated sand.

Xe had brushed it off as human stubbornness and continued with xir trip unfazed, until Human Lake had wanted to go hiking. Chi'l'zak agreed, not truly understanding the point of simply walking up and down mountains but willing to try the experience and see if maybe xe could gain some anthropological notes on the subject. Halfway up the mountain Human Lake called a halt. he wandered into the trees for a moment and returned with a stick almost as tall as he was.

"We can rest here for a while. I've been needing a new walking stick, and this one's just gorgeous."

"But, Hu- Lake, why do you need walking assistance? You have been perfectly fine up until this point. Are you injured? Should I apply first aid?"

"Nah, I'm fine, 'zak. I don't need one, they're just nice to lean on when you're hiking. Plus their fun to have. makes me feel like a wizard, y'know? But I gotta smooth this one down if I'm gonna use it, or I'll have splinters in my hands for days."

Chi'l'zak didn't mind the rest, and took the time to simply observe the flora and fauna in the area, absorb some nutrients from xir pack of supplies, and-

*scrape* *scrape* *scrape*

As Chi'l'zak looked over, xe found Human Lake seated on the ground, legs fcrossed in a manner that was normal for humans but made xir fur stand on end. He had balanced the stick across his legs, and was scraping it with a rock he'd apparently found nearby.

"Human Lake, what are you doing?"

"Smoothing out the stick, like I said." He didn't look up from the task he'd set himself too, continuing to scrape the rock along the stick, occasionally hitting it against small branches to knock them off.

"Yes, but why are you using a rock? Surely there are better tools. I have heard tell of a common smoothing agent, 'sand paper,' that would be better suited to the task."

"Don't have sandpaper on me. Besides, the premise works the same. Rub two rough things together and the softer things gets smooth. Sure, a rock isn't going to have as fine a grain as some sandpapers, but it works in a pinch."

"but we are not in a 'pinch', as you say. We are perfectly capable of taking the stick back with us and getting sand paper."

"Look, the rock works just fine for me, and it's cheaper. No point wasting money when i have the tools to do the job already."

"Human lake, that is a rock. That isn't a tool."

"Sure it is, if you get creative enough. You can use it to smooth things, hit things, if you angle it like this you can probably use it to dig, and you could always throw it. Hell, I'll bet you this end here could be used to open that stupid finnicky pressure lock Jacob's been complaining about."

"But it isn't mean to do those things. It could damage the lock worse, or break the wrong things."

"Look, 'zak, i appreciate the concern, but a tool is what you make of it. If I've got some nails I need hammered down and all I've got to hand is a rock, then I'm going to use the rock until the rock breaks or the nails are hammered. Just because we have tools better designed for a task doesn't always mean we need to use them. Sometimes old ways work just fine."

Chi'l'zak was quiet the rest of the time Human Lake used the stone to smooth the surface of his new walking stick, and had quite the interesting talk with him the rest of the hike about old human tools, how they were used, selected or constructed. Xe learned about spears and bows and how some still used those tools for hunting. Learned of tools used in leatherworking, all made of bone since the first leatherworkers had found nothing better to work with, and modern human's hadn't either.

"Anthropological Notes: Humans are excellent at creating and using tools, as are most other species. However, humans are slow to abandon old types of tools, some using the same methods prevalent centuries ago in order to complete a task simply because they have the old tools to hand. Humans are also adept at improvising tools, able to use one item for many different functions depending on their needs.

In relation to Incident 739, human crewmembers should not be allowed to bring items such as sticks or rocks on board without prior authorization, lest the engine be completely dismantled again."

[graceofagodswrath]

Menstrual Cycles and Aliens

“I apologize, but Williams is doing what?”

Kate sighed, brown eyes rolling at Ka’oolai’s stiff confusion. “Bleeding Niagara Falls out of her uterus. She’s gonna need a couple days.”

“Katy.” Jasmine hissed. “That is not how you explain this shit to people.”

Kate’s lips thinned in exasperation. “It makes them listen! God knows how many times I had to describe it so graphically to get all the men in my family to understand that you can’t just ‘suck it up!’”

The three sat in the dining lounge, a room on the transport ship meant for relaxation for workers on their breaks. Ka’looai, the ship’s second-in-command, had inquired about Pilot William’s ask for absence. Kate Blanche, the engineer and second roommate to De’maya, had answered in her usually blunt way. Luckily, The third roommate and Quartermaster of the ship, Jasmine Lativos, had been there to cushion Ka’looai’s immediate confusion.

Ka’looai held up their four hands to the two humans, insectoid limbs the notable deep, iridescent purple of their native race, Yamogai. They resembled a mix of a beetle and praying mantis, tall with hard, spiny exoskeletons. They displayed a variety of colors like humans (tho more vibrant), but the most common was purple.

“I apologize… I do not understand. Does Pilot Williams have an open wound? Do they need to go to the medibay?” Ka’looai’s voice sounded like the vibrating of beating wings, so they had to pronunciate other languages precisely in order to be understood. So they spoke slowly and with a deliberate concentration. This voice also gave way to an accent that made them pronounce certain letters like ‘v’s. There was a running joke with humans that Yamogai were related to Germans, as their accents were similar when speaking English.

Jasmine shook her head. “No. She’s experiencing a part of her menstrual cycle, the human female reproductive cycle.” Ka’looai cocked their head, so Jasmine continued. “Every month, we expel the inside lining of our uterus, the organ that develops a human fetus if the female is pregnant. If a female isn’t pregnant, our uterus removes the old lining of tissue and blood and gets rid of it from our body to create a new lining in case she does become pregnant. It’s the same muscle contractions as childbirth, though at a smaller fraction. This process can be extremely painful for some, if not most people, and De’maya is one of them. So she just needs some time off to deal with and recover from this experience.”

Ka’looai stared for a moment, mantis-like eyes seeming to stare through the humans souls. “I… see. I will inform the captain, then. Is there anything else we must know about this… event? I assume you two experience it as well as you said every human female does?”

Kate shrugged, long brown braid shifting in her shoulders. “Mine isn’t so bad usually. I’m one of the lucky ones. I get irritable and the occasional back pains, but I don’t need time off recuperate necessarily.”

“Irritable?”

Jasmine smiled, more of grimace for those experienced in reading human expressions. “Annoyed. Aggressive. The process increases the amount of estrogen and testosterone in our bodies, hormones that can heavily influence our emotional states. So we can be a bit…” Jasmine paused to think. “Intense.”

“Ah.” Ka’looai’s antennae twitched emphatically. “That is why I sensed the rise in strange pheromones. So this increase of chemicals affects you physically, emotionally, and mentally. I see why Pilot Williams asked for an absence then. Will the two of you require the same?”

Jasmine made an expression that Ka’looai could not understands. She bared her teeth while narrowing here eyes and scrunching her nose, dark skin wrinkling. Her hands rolled synchronously back and forth, a gesture the Yamogai recognized as a sign for uncertainty. “My cycle is more chaotic. Many factors can influence the way it is, and I tend to be influenced heavily by those.” She gestured at the other human. “Whereas Kate’s average is light and less painful, and De’maya’s average is heavy and extreme pain, mine can be either depending on my situation. If I’m stressed and haven’t taken care of myself, it’s usually pretty painful. If the opposite, I can usually function pain free. It depends.”

“What do you mean by light and heavy?”

“That refers to the amount of blood and tissue we expel. Light is very little, medium is a bit more, heavy means a lot. Some people have more lining than others. The heavier the flow can also increase the amount of pain.”

“Is this process different for every human?”

Both women nodded.

“And you still work through such obstacles?”

“Pretty much.” Jasmine confirmed.

“Interesting.” Ka’looai hummed, the sound vibrating the air rhythmically. “So human females expel a large amount of their own blood and tissue every month simply for not reproducing. And it is incredibly painful, yet some of you still function through it. No wonder females are in higher demand than males. You are a hardy species.” Their laugh sounded like the erratic buzzing of fly multiplied by ten. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Oh, there’s a shit ton if you wanna properly educate yourself on human reproduction.” Kate waved a scarred, oil darkened hand. “But Jaz gave you the basics. Hah, you may know and understand it better than the average human male.” Kate chuckled dryly and Jasmine huffed. “But that’s a debate hole that can be saved for another time.”

“If you want to learn more, read some human biology books, and we can answer any questions you have.” Said Jasmine. “Make sure they’re recent ones tho, the outdated ones are full of a lot of misinformation.”

“I see. I will do so. Human biology continues to fascinate. I have always found learning about other races to be rather intriguing, and humans never disappoint.”

“Yeup.” Kate leaned back and threw her arms behind her head. “Just don’t start making jokes about us leaving puddles and shit everywhere, or not being trusted behind the wheel.” Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth in a not-friendly-smile. “I will commit some “transgressions,” if so.”

Ka’looai’s antennae twitched. “Understood.”

~~~~~~

I’m currently going through this month’s rounds, and felt like distracting myself. Finally had the motivation to write and of course it was during a shitty time of my life. Needed me some alien feels that understand my woes better than my own family. I know this prompt has been done a lot, but I wanted to give my own take on it.

[marlynnofmany]

Handy Tools

For some people, an afternoon spent blasting across a desert on a hoverbike with the passenger behind them wrapping tentacles around their waist would be a charming date. For me, it was a work day, and our delivery was about to be late.

I yelled over the wind, “Am I going too fast for you?”

Mur’s voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m just glad I don’t have to steer at these speeds. Keep going.”

I went faster. Now that I’d been officially trained on the hoverbike, I was going to enjoy every opportunity to use it. Especially since it turned out that most of my coworkers didn’t actually like seeing the scenery flash past at breakneck speeds, with the wind in their hair (or lack thereof).

Their loss. I caught some air going over a low sand dune, and allowed myself a whoop of joy. Mur didn’t hold on any tighter, but that was because he had all his other tentacles suctioned onto the bike. Nobody stays in their seat like a Strongarm who’s properly motivated. He reminded me of cats I’d known who spent trips to the vet with their claws sunk into whichever soft surface was in reach. All that was missing was the yowling.

A gust of wind buffeted us sideways, but the bike’s auto-balance function kept it upright. With a thought for how much I would have liked that kind of technology in my childhood bicycle, I steered us back on track toward the distant buildings on the edge of the desert. The plan had been for our client to come meet us at the spaceport, but something had come up on their end, and they still needed the package in a hurry. Luckily for all involved, it fit in the storage compartment of our courier ship’s speedy little hovercycle. And I was happy to deliver it at high speed to a building that the ship couldn’t land near.

Eventually we’d be weaving through city streets and I’ve have to slow down. All the more reason to make up time with the high speeds now.

But of course it couldn’t be that easy. As I crested another rise, a herd of small things on the ground swarmed toward us out of nowhere.

I swerved hard, but no luck; there were far too many to avoid. With the wind behind them, they flowed under the hoverbike and onto its lower parts, where a bunch of the round little whatevers stuck fast.

The bike coasted to a stop, despite my efforts to urge it faster. The rest of the things ghosted merrily away, looking more like inanimate objects blown by the wind than like living creatures. Dozens of them were stuck to the bike.

Mur swore loudly in his own language, a series of rippling pops that sounded like someone going to town on a bunch of birthday balloons. Which seemed pretty appropriate, actually.

“What are these?” I asked, turning off the engine. They looked like little sand-beige balloons with leaves at the bottom. Were they plants?

They were.

“A muddy problem is what they are,” Mur said, loosening his tentacles and opening the storage compartment. “Seed pods famous around here for gumming up electronics by getting stuck where they shouldn’t. You can’t just pull ‘em off; you have to pop them.”

I got to my feet, careful to keep my legs away from the things. “Are they dangerous to touch?”

Mur climbed halfway into the storage compartment, digging with his tentacles around the package. “No. Just hard to puncture. Where is the toolkit?”

I had a sudden memory of our ship’s mechanic saying something about borrowing it while I was talking to the captain about the delivery. Uh oh. “I think we left before Mimi put it back.”

With an angry tentacle slap against the bike, Mur dug faster. “There’s got to be something pointy in here. Maybe in the medkit?”

While he pulled that out and sifted through the bandages, I got a closer look at the seed pods. They reminded me of pufferfish: a little spiky, and rubbery when I poked one. Oddly enough, it didn’t stick to my finger, just the bike. Seeds rattled inside.

Further pop-swearing told me there wasn’t anything particularly sharp in the tiny medkit. Mur shut it with a snap and looked around at the desert. “See any sticks?”

I did not. “There’s probably something at the town, but that’s a bit of a walk. Are you sure we can’t just rip them open? Are they toxic to bite?”

“Definitely don’t bite them,” Mur said. “I’ve heard stories of what those seeds can do to a digestive system.”

“By hand, though?” I tried to pinch one, but it was like trying to tear open an over-inflated kickball. Thin material, just without enough give to dig my fingers in. A pushpin would have done it. I kept trying anyway. “I see what you mean.”

Mur started tugging at various parts of the hoverbike. “And of course we can’t take off a sharp metal bit without tools either. And neither of us have claws. What around here is pointy?”

“Well, I almost have claws,” I said, looking at my fingernails. “Maybe I could bite one into a point. Or actually—” The nail on my middle finger was the longest. I dug a thumbnail into the corner and ripped the end off, then handed the tiny crescent to Mur. “Is this sharp enough?”

“What’s this?” He took it in his tentacle, surprised.

“Fingernail,” I said, waggling my fingers. “Mine are soft enough to tear off pretty easily. It’ll grow back.”

Mur blinked in surprise but didn’t comment. He just grasped it firmly with his most dexterous tentacle, and popped a seedpod with it.

“Hooray!” I said as seeds rained down and the pod deflated. To my surprise, it promptly detached from the bike as well.

“We might just be on time after all.” Mur started popping with a vengeance, swarming over the bike to get everything within reach.

I sacrificed another fingernail — ring finger this time — and joined in. Between my long arms and his maneuverability, we soon had all of the troublesome things collapsing onto the sandy ground.

I wondered briefly about the biology at work; maybe the outer surface of the pods would decompose into nutrients for the seeds. But then Mur was climbing back onto the seat, and we had other things to worry about.

“I’m going to make sure that toolkit goes back where it belongs the moment we get back,” Mur said. He opened the storage compartment and dropped the fingernail inside. “Keeping these, though. Gimme the other one.”

I handed it over with a smile and got back into place while he shut the compartment. The bike started as if there had never been anything wrong. I was a bit curious about that too, but figured it was something for Mimi to figure out when he gave the bike a checkup later.

After we delivered our package, that is. I kicked it into high gear, and with Mur holding on for dear life, I blasted off across the desert once again. The wind in my hair felt great.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[meteors-lotr]

A group of Hobbits is called a herd

A group of Dwarves is called a pod

A group of Elves is called a dance

A group of Men is called a flock

A group of Orcs is called a nest

A group of Goblins is called a brood

A group of Wizards is called a problem

[macabrebatz]

I FINALLY PUSHED THROUGH MY WRITERS BLOCK. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. We are back to writing for Mr. Drooly orc. I don’t know when I’ll be finished but it should be in the next day or two.

[eri-pl]

...he's gonna have a go at Morgoth making things and hoping Saint Augustine isn't gonna notice.

(from this video) (it makes sense in the context)

[jpitha]

Risk Tolerance

Humans have an unusually high risk tolerance among the galaxy's sapients. Watching a human operate their own equipment can be truly something to behold (from a safe distance).

Perhaps their utter indifference to death and dismemberment developed as a result of evolutionary pressures on their planet. Among worlds that support sapient life, theirs is unusually competitive.

Or it could just be cultural.

Griz'ek and Summer Breeze were sitting in a cafe, enjoying their evening meal when two humans sprinted past them. Remembering the Confederation's second rule when living and working with humans (if they're running away from something, you run too) Griz and Summer jumped out of their seats and took off after them.

As soon as Griz and Summer started after the humans, they heard the alarm. One of the ships on the docking ring had an overspeed alarm, it's hooting trill making it very clear that something was very wrong.

The humans passed the pressure door for the docking ring, and a small crowd trotted after them.

One of the humans, a male Griz thought, looked down the hall worried, "Is that everyone? Station! Is anyone left on the docking ring?"

"I don't detect anyone within the confines of the docks. Sealing doors." The pressure doors came down with a muffled slam. A moment later there was a thump as the stricken ship was ejected from the docking ring, and then the windows in the hall went white from the flash a split second before the anti-glare shields darkened the images.

The female human looked to the other. "Okay, okay you were right. adding a 3% solution of telmurian gas caused it to overspeed."

"What did I tell you?" Summer could have sworn the second human looked smug, but they weren't completely sure about human body language. "I said that the telmurian gas was much too volatile. It was never going to work"

"Well, yes, I see that now Jamie. What do you recommend then?"

Jamie nodded his head. "We should have increased the outer compensator allowance by 10 microns."

The female human rolled her eyes. "That would cause an unacceptable amount of coke buildup and you know it. If it was that easy, the Confederation would have done it already!"

Finally, Griz'ek spoke up. "I'm sorry, but what happened?"

Jamie and the other human looked over, and with a realization that they had an audience, they looked sheepish. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mary here-:" Jamie gestured "-thought that if we injected a 3% solution of telmurian gas into the engines we'd get a stable 15% increase in drive output."

Summer Breeze's feathers rippled concern. "But, telmurian gas is highly dangerous! It's downright explosive. Why would you mix it into the drive beam?"

Mary looked defiant. "It would have worked if the Remlar Drive Yards knew how to make an engine. Human thrusters are always overbuilt by a factor of two or three. It would have been fine if the injection chamber came from Niven." She looks at Jamie. "The next ship we buy is 100% human made."

Summer Breeze couldn't help themselves. Their feathers puffed out and they gestured angrily. "You tried injecting a known explosive gas into the drive beam and though it would make it work better?"

Mary looks surprised. "Yes? How else do you gain efficiencies? Sure, sometimes it explodes, but other times you get a Flip drive."

Humans tended to use their own domestically developed Flip drive to travel between the stars. It was quite a bit faster than the Confederation's FTL Warp, but most other sapients considered it much too unstable to use.

Griz looked at the humans with awe. "But, your ship was destroyed."

Jamie shrugged. "We'll get another, and everyone is fine. Chalk it up to lessons learned." He looked out the window. "Hey Station, anyone get hurt?"

"No Jamie, there was no damage other than your ship - which was completely destroyed. The ejection systems worked perfectly."

Jamie smiled at Griz and Summer. "See? No harm done."

Summer couldn't stand it anymore. "NO HARM DONE HE SAYS. HE HAS NO SHIP!" Summer's feathers won't stop rippling up and down.

Griz puts his tentacle around his friend. "Come on Summer, let's leave the humans to their own insanity and go get some drinks-" He glares at Jamie and Mary "-on the other side of the station. Summer Breeze continues on, "THEY JUST THOUGHT IT WAS FINE TO ADD AN EXPLOSIVE TO THEIR DRIVE JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD DO!"

[musewrangler]

Dons helmet. Rolls neck. Shrugs shoulders a bit to loosen up, and hefts the broadsword experimentally.

All set.

Gonna finish this fic tonight if it leaves me mortally wounded. I bequeath all my uniced Christmas cookies to you all.

[voltaichalo]

whos ready for dragon meshi

plus extra notes lalalalalal

[eruden-writes]

With the current political climate I'm trying to avoid Amazon as much as possible. Do you have physical copies of your works available for purchase anywhere else? I'd rather support you directly.

If you're looking to purchase by December 2nd, I just made a Cyber Week deal through IngramSpark.

Only TUHP and the LCO duology are available, however.

Usually $18.99 through IngramSpark, these two books are now $14.

Otherwise, the Barnes and Noble's website has most of my books for sale, as well. If you have a preferred bookseller or want to purchase after Dec 2nd, you may be able to find The Unexpected Human Problem and the Lights, Camera, Orc-tion! Duology through them, too. IngramSpark distributes to a lot of businesses.

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Legolas: -OH! Speaking of, what’s your status on the list?

Elladan: ... the list?

Legolas: yeah, you know: The List?

Elladan: what list??

Legolas: The List!

Elrohir: we don’t understand what you mean with you only repeating those words!

Legolas: the list that’s, y’know, about whether or not you consent to being eaten if your squad ever finds themselves in a isolated environment with no food or water except for your corpse.

The twins:..... what.

Legolas: yeah, so what’s your status? Yay or nay?

[izzetheopossum]

Altmorc oc! This is Vallisara The Spider, my thieves guild character. She has an altmer mother, and orc father.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

The refugees in Sirion hearing the grind of metal and angry shouts and thinking it’s happening again.