#well hate is a strong word it's just omnipresent and boring

[elbiotipo]

Every time I watch a good videogame that does the low-poly art style and crafting/survival well, I'm reminded on how Minecraft is so boring. I watched and played the original birth of Minecraft, I was there for all the hype, when it was considered cringe, and then when it surfaced again and now where it's just background noise everybody plays and all the even worse clones, and it's still incredibly boring.

[morphedphaseblog]

The starless sea by Erin Morgenstern

Goodreads version

The introduction

This is just to warn everyone that I'm not a literature student, an English major nor a native English speaker, so I'm sorry in advance if this is a jumbled mess. I tend to ramble a lot but I've really tried to keep this as short as possible. (Short meaning a little bit over two thousand words for one review, I've never written a review this long.) I wrote this for self indulgence and for my lovely book club @readerbookclub

The first impression

This book pleasantly surprised me, it was like a very long dream that you don't want to wake up from. The moment I finished it I wished that I hadn't because I couldn't part from it just yet. It would feel almost like cheating, I wanted the intertwined stories to continue and for me to remain in its trance, lost in the beautiful writing and bizarre world.

I will be the first to admit that when someone says the story is written almost poem-like, in prose, and similar, I will immediately think of meaningless quotes that are there just to look pretty. Characters saying things just to sound deep, frilly writing that leads nowhere, and dragged on descriptions that had no place being that long and boring. Those are the first things I think of when I'm confronted with someone explaining those kinds of books to me, and that's completely my fault. This book was none of that, it was captivating from the first page to the last.

"There is a pirate in the basement. (The pirate is a metaphor but also still a person.) "

I can tell you, when I first read this, on the first goddamn page, I was hooked. This book has a strong bizzare sort of setting, one that almost reminds me of Neil Gaiman, distinctively Neverwhere with its underground society and twisted perceptions of reality, and yet this book stands out on its own as an individual. It's definitely a unique book, one that I'm still hesitant to part from.

The writing

This book has a very unique writing style, one that is extremely consistent throughout the book. There's nothing I hate more than an inconsistent writing style that changes without a reason. The author plays around with words and describes things simply yet poetically. There were only maybe two instances where I thought the writing was a bit pretentious, but ultimately the good outweighs the bad.

I don't know what exactly it is, but I will try and explain through the next few quotes:

"The book is mis-shelved in the fiction section, even though the majority of it is true and the rest is true enough"

(This really gives you the sense of vague foreshadowing in the book, where even though the description tells you sweet sorrows is mostly true you don't realise how true it actually is. I never saw the fact that the characters in that book would be actual people that interact with our main characters. Plus the writing is really pretty)

"It's binding has been cracked a handful of times, once a professor even perused the first few pages and intended to come back to it but forgot about it instead."

(Is it just me but these small detailed descriptions really give you a sense of real world happenings and that the story is really set in the real world. You can imagine people passing their fingers over the spine of the book before glancing around and getting distracted with something else. The professor taking it into his hands and skimming it but ultimately forgetting all about it later, and finally Zachary reading the whole book from top to bottom.)

"His dark hair is grading at the temples, framing a face that would be called handsome if the word rugged or unconventionally were attached to it."

(Now I'm in love with this kind of mental visual, it's fun and it almost plays with your expectations. I just really like small things like these, they immediately make my reading extremely entertaining.)

"Someone in the corner is dressed as a highly recognizable author or, Zachary thinks as he gets a closer look, it might be that highly recognizable author."

(Again as before, this is the kind of writing I like. It plays with your imaginary visuals of what's happening and making them ten times more fun, especially when we confirm a bit later that that had indeed been that highly recognizable author.)

"He walks over bones he mistakes for dust and nothingness he mistakes for bones."

(Yet another example of those fun visuals, I didn't even realise how many of these I had marked until I had to go through them for this review. I just adore this writing style.)

I have so many more of these so here are just a few more to really make this review even longer:

"A portrait of a young man in a coat with a great many buttons but the buttons are all tiny clocks, from the collar to the cuffs, each reading different times."

"His face is so much more than hair and eye colour, she wonders why books do not describe the curves of noses or the length of the eyelashes. She studies the shape of his lips. Perhaps a face is too complicated to capture in words."

"There are dozens of giant statues. Some figures have animal heads and others have list their heads entirely. They are listed throughout the space in a way that looks so organic that Zachary would not be surprised if they moved, or perhaps they are moving, very, very slowly."

"The figure in the chair is carved from snow and ice. As her gown cascades down around the chair the ripples in the fabric become waves, and within waves there are ships and sailors and sea monsters and then the sea within her gown is lost in the drifting snow."

"Allegra watches him with studied interest from the other end of the table, the way one watches a tiger in a zoo or possibly the way the tiger watches the tourists."

"It sounds strange and empty now, in her head. Rhyme can hear the hum of the past stories though they are low and quiet, the stories always calm once they have been written down whether they are past stories or present stories or future stories.

It is the absence of the high-pitched stories of the future that is the most strange. There is the thrum of what will pass in the next few minutes buzzing in her ears- so faint compared to the tales layered upon tales that she once heard- and then nothing. Then this place will have no more tales to tell." .

(Probably one of my favourites, it really highlights everything I like about this style of writing.)

Another kind of writing style I noticed in the book was an abundance of making things literally feel alive, giving human emotions to objects, personification. I don't come across this too often in other books, and when it happens it isn't repeated as often in that same book,since it tends to get old, but as we have already learned Erin Morgenstern never makes this boring. She plays around with this and never seems to stop, adding another layer to her writing cake. I love how she gives these characteristics to even the smallest of crevices hidden in shadows, something just people wouldn't even think of.

"He takes his torch and explores the shadows, away from the doors and the tent, among jagged crystals and forgotten architecture. He carries the light into places long unfamiliar with illumination that accept it like a half-remembered dream."

"Outside the inn the wind howls, confused by this turn of events. (The wind does not like to be confused. Confusion ruins it's sense of direction and direction is everything to the wind.)"

"The wind howls after him as he leaves in fear of what is to come, but a mortal cannot understand the wishes of the wind no matter how loud it cries and so these final warnings go unheeded."

"If the sword could sigh with relief as it is taken from its scabbard it would, for it has been lost and found so many times before and it knows this time will be the last."

One more thing that caught my eye in the writing was also the composition, where we technically start with in medias Res. We find out by the end of the book that everything that has happened was one big ass story wrapped in stories and overlapped with other stories. So Zachary literally comes in not even in the middle of the story, but at the very end that has been overdue for quite some time. This makes for a very interesting storyline as all the other storylines intertwine into eachother, it makes for an even more interesting read as our MC comes in only when the plot is at its end, tipping over the very edge.

(I also got the feeling that the entire book is almost told through the perspective of the story, if that makes any sense whatsoever. It's almost like the story, that is bound together like the most complicated twister game, is alive and is smiling over our characters smugly waiting for everything to run its course. Like an omnipresent god, that's at least the vibe I got reading the book. )

The world building

Now in my opinion the world building goes hand in hand with the writing in this book. Every detail I mentioned before builds the atmosphere and the base of all the world building in this book. The way the plot is written is written also contributes to the world building, as all the stories overlap and meet at the very end. The looping plot line is actually my number one favourite thing in the entire book.

There isn't that much to say except 'what the hell is going on?' in the best way possible, to the world building, because as confusing as it can be it's amazing to read and I think that it's one of my favourite aspects of the book.

The Characters

Now is time for the weakest part of the book, its characters, who even though I think are amazing, are definitely flatter than everything else in the book.

In my opinion most characters personalities I just can't pinpoint, and even though this personally doesn't take away from my enjoyment too much, I know a lot of people love well defined character personalities.

For some characters I can understand the constant change in character, like Mirabel, whose multiple lifetimes make it so it makes sense why her personalities overlap and make little sense. She constantly felt a bit inconsistent to me, but again I personally didn't think it ruined the book.

The most well developed personalities I could feel were Kat and the keeper, and at times Dorian. Zachary is a weird gray area for me, because even though I loved his character, I can't really tell who he is besides the son of the fortuneteller. I think that most of the character building was sacrificed to make the plot and the world feel alive. As I said before, it feels like the omnipresent god and the world is more developed than any of the characters personalities.

I usually love marking all 'character moments' where I feel like I can understand what kind of person the character is, their sense of humour, friendship, socializing, thinking and so on. But I found myself marking basically nothing of that kind in this book, just the beautiful descriptions of the world. The story was just more alive than the characters in it.

I liked all the romances even though they all lacked some depth, but the fairytale style writing of the romance definitely made them extremely enjoyable. If it weren't for the fairytale vibe all the romance would have been just flat, and I  wouldn’t be invested at all.

The Conclusion

I wouldn't reccomend this book for everyone, as I think great many people wouldn't be fans of the writing, and so the lack of character depth wouldn't help either and there would be no good to outweigh the bad. I truly think this book is a perfect 4 starts but to me personally it is 5 stars. I am just such a big fan of the looping storyline, I still haven't gotten over that. To finish it all off here are a few extra quotes that I liked:

"No one takes responsibility. Everyone assumes someone else will do it, so no one does."

"It is critical to steep the tests in ignorance to result in uncorrupted responses."

"They all have similar elements, though. All stories do, no matter what form they take. Something was, and then something changed. Change is what a story is, after all."

[thewritewolf]

The Search for Halloween Chapter 6: Lost + Ghost

The gang decides to check out an old abandoned house at night.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 (Final)

@unusual-october

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi.

Art of this chapter by the always-wonderful @noanieactuallydrawingalot

“Hey, guys!” Adrien rushed up to where his friends were huddled together. With the darkness, he hadn’t been sure at first that it was them, but spotting Marinette’s pink winter jacket set his mind at ease. “Are we ready for some spooky times?”

“I gotta say, sunshine, I’m impressed,” Alya said as the four of them started walking.

“Well, it’s not that hard to be brave this time.” Adrien stood a little closer to Marinette when he noticed her slight shivering. “It’s just a big, empty house after all. I’ve got plenty of experience with those.”

“I guess, dude. But this isn’t just any old abandoned building.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Nino. “That’s not what you said this morning. And I should know, since you called me to scream about how you’d found ‘this cool place to go exploring in’.”

“What Nino means to say is that we’ve done a bunch of research on it since then,” Alya cut in. “We’ve found some scary stuff that we’re sure is gonna freak you guys out.”

“Just for the record: I know that you’re lying,” Marinette said. “But I’m curious about your ghost stories.”

Alya pouted. “Well that takes half the fun out of it.” She shrugged. “Oh well. Let’s start with the story of the screaming girl in the walls…”

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

Entering the house hadn’t been as difficult as Marinette would have hoped. Maybe it was because no one was really expecting someone to want to go exploring in a crumbling wreck, but regardless, it didn’t provide much of a deterrent to the teens sneaking inside. Marinette almost wished that it had been better locked down - maybe then they could’ve gone home early. While that would’ve meant she had snuck out for no reason, it also meant she wouldn’t have to explore a possibly haunted house close to midnight after listening to a bunch of ghost stories.

Somewhere deep in her bones, Marinette suspected that Alya and Nino were going to do their best to scare her and Adrien. They took way too much pleasure in that. Maybe that was the spirit of Halloween possessing them? Those fears seemed well founded at Alya’s next suggestion.

“Okay, gang. I think we should split up.”

Marinette shot her best friend a withering glare that she resolutely ignored.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, M. Look at this place!” Alya spread her hands to encompass the grand staircase leading upstairs and the corridors spreading out in three directions on this floor alone. “It’ll take us ages if we do this as one group and you know it.”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “So the groups will be-”

“You and sunshine down here, me and cappy upstairs, yes.”

That suspicion returned, although now she was wondering if Alya and Nino weren’t just going to sneak off and make out somewhere. At this point, they felt like equally likely possibilities.

Before Marinette could present her misgivings, Adrien said, “That sounds fine. You two have fun… ‘exploring’.” He waggled his eyebrows, prompting Alya to roll her eyes and Nino to grin.

Once the other two disappeared upstairs, Adrien bowed to Marinette and gestured towards the right hallway.

“Shall we?”

Marinette giggled and flipped her flashlight on. “We shall.”

Her courage nearly evaporated when she thought she heard tiny voices, like those of children, coming from somewhere nearby. It sounded like they were whispering to each other.

“Something wrong?”

She looked toward Adrien and his concerned eyes. Try as she might, she didn’t hear anything now. She shook her head. “...It was nothing, I think. Come on!”

After trudging through the darkness and over creaky floorboards, they came to a stuck door. Between the two of them, they managed to pry it open. A big, decaying table sat in the middle of what appeared to be a kitchen. Marinette picked up the sturdy looking candlestick that sat at the edge of the table.

While she hefted it in her hands, Adrien paused in his exploration of the cupboards to glance over to her. “Grabbing a souvenir? I didn’t realize you were the sticky fingers type, bugaboo.”

An embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. “Um… about that... remind me to tell you about your phone later, okay?”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

There was movement to her side and the quiet was broken when the table suddenly collapsed. Her own terrified squeak added to the noise as she dodged out of the way. Not that she needed to - none of the rotted wood got close to her.

Adrien was at her side in a moment, carefully looking at her feet and legs for any signs of injury. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“...Let’s keep moving, okay? I don’t really want to be in this room anymore.” He glared at the ruined table, as if daring it to try and attack her again.

She nodded mutely and they continued their search.

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

Alya let her light rake across the walls of the room, giving only a cursory glance at her surroundings. So far, exploring the house hadn’t been quite the adventure she had been hoping for. It made weird noises and smelled weird too. If they’d come during the day like the scaredy cats had wanted, she would’ve been bored to tears. As it stands, she was intrigued and her heartbeat was a little faster than usual.

Then again, she thought as she squeezed Nino’s hand, maybe that last part wasn’t because of the house at all.

“You really think we’ll find anything worth talking about here?” Nino tugged at his hat as he searched the corners of the room. “Dunno if we’ll even be able to put this in the presentation.”

She shrugged. “We might be able to if we keep it vague. But, honestly, this is more about freaking out Mari and blondie than anything else.”

“You’ve really got it out for them.” Nino chuckled. “You got a mean streak under all that sugar.”

“And don’t forget it, babe.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “But no, I just don’t get the excuse to mess with her a lot. At least, not like this. She’s pretty good at avoiding horror most of the time.”

“Oh man, you should have seen their faces during that sleepover when-”

They were both startled at the sound of a door slamming shut. Specifically, the one that led into the room they were in. After a moment of hesitation, Alya rushed forward to pull at the handle. Despite her fears, the door opened as easy as it had when they came in. Some of the tension left her. Not a lot, but a little.

“That was, uh…” Nino swallowed. “...Spooky.”

“Yeah…” Alya narrowed her eyes at the door. “Must have been-”

“Babe, I swear if you say it was just the wind I’m divorcing you right now.”

Despite how her heart was pounding, she smirked. “A shame we aren’t married. But seriously, these houses have weird air flow. One strong gust from outside and,” she clapped her hands together. “Door slams.”

“If you say so… Back to it, then?”

“Well, duh. It’s getting interesting now.”

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

Nino definitely wasn’t having a good time now. Something about the place put him on edge. Like there was someone (or something) watching from the shadows. An omnipresent scratching sound that Alya had claimed was probably just some trees outside. The only light in the building was the one from the flashlights, which meant he was blind in almost all directions.

Atmospheric horror at its best. Exactly like he enjoyed out of a movie.

But also way too real for him to really appreciate.

“We’ve been in here like, what? Half an hour?” Nino whispered to Alya, one hand latched onto her sweater sleeve. “We can probably call it quits now, right?”

“Come on, babe! Things are just getting interesting now!”

To his dismas, he realized she was leading him towards the scratching sound. He mentioned this out loud.

“Well, it’s our only lead right now. It could just be a tree or an animal or whatever.”

“Yeah, well, if it isn’t? What then?”

“Then we have some real ghost action up in here!” Alya put her ear close to the door they’d reached. “Now, shush. Whatever is making that sound is on the other side.” She put a hand on the door knob and grinned.

When she pushed open the door, her grin immediately vanished, replaced with a mask of horror. It wasn’t an animal or a tree. But they found what the scratching was about.

Carved into the wall in big, scrawled letters were the words, “STUPID GHOST.”

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

Adrien and Marinette had doubled back to the staircase and went down the big, central hall. A lot of little things had started piling up on their minds - faint cackling, weird smells, small things crumbling like the table - and suddenly they didn’t want to stray very far from the entry any more. The only thing still keeping them there was bullheaded stubbornness and not wanting to leave their friends behind.

That brought them to what Adrien assumed was the living room. At least, that’s the sense that he got from the mouldering couches and the dead fireplace. Any other hints about what had been here had long since been eaten up by time.

They both heard a scraping noise, like metal on stone, and froze. It was really getting to them, but Adrien was having just about enough. So he did the one thing he knew would take both of their minds off of it. He put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders.

“Mari?”

“Hm?”

“We should go on a date after this.”

She stopped and looked wide eyed at him. “I- What?”

“You and me, flowers, chocolate, you’ll wear a pretty dress you made. It’ll be great.”

“That…” She swallowed and gave a weak smile. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.” Marinette hugged herself and shivered. She jumped when Adrien wrapped an arm around her, but shot a grateful look up at him. “Th-thanks, Adrien. I hate the cold.”

At that moment, the fireplace flared to life, startling both of them. Carved into the stone in the back, where they couldn’t see before, was a single sentence:

YOU DIDN’T SAY GOODBYE.

With that, the two of them bolted from the room into the hallway. The house was suddenly alive with sound as Alya and Nino rushed down the stairs at the same time. Everyone began talking excitedly all at once. Adrien risked a glance behind him, towards the abandoned living room. His eyes widened and he pointed a trembling finger at the shadowy figure behind them.

“G-ghost! Demon! Thing!”

Which was more or less accurate - he couldn’t get a good sense of the shape of the creature, but there were tendrils of inky blackness that caused things to rot and crumble when it brushed against them. There was a wall of sound that he belatedly realized was the four of them screaming at once before they were suddenly a flurry of limbs rushing towards the exit. There was a sound of metal hitting wood as Marinette dropped the candlestick in her haste.

The main doors slammed shut behind them.

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

They didn’t stop running until they’d put a couple blocks between them and the house.

Alya managed to speak between gasps of breath, “So that was… something. Very spooky.” The combined glares of the other three proved deafening. “Okay, fine, fine. I’ll take full blame if we get permanently haunted ‘cuz of this. Let’s just go home, alright?”

“You mind if I come over to your place, babe? I, uh… Don’t want to be by myself right now.”

“I’m very glad you asked first. Yes. Let’s watch a rom com or four.”

“Throw in a spy flick and we’ll call it good.”

Trailing a little behind the other two, Adrien weaved his fingers between Marinette’s and whispered, “So does Saturday sound alright to you?”

She blinked up at him. “Huh?”

“For the best date of our lives?”

No response except more blinking.

“Mari, say something. I already promised flowers and chocolates and I can't break that promise now-mmmmph!"

He was suddenly cut off by her pulling him down to her level and pressing her lips to his.

She sighed against him and whispered back, “Saturday sounds wonderful, kitty.”

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

An hour earlier...

“Come on, Sugarcube! It’ll be fun.”

Plagg floated around Tikki in an abandoned closet under the staircase. He’d dragged her off while their chosen had been focused on entering the house.

“I don’t know, Plagg… It seems awfully mean.”

“But, sugarcube, when was the last time we got to celebrate Samhain? It’s been centuries! Opportunities like this don’t come around that often.”

Despite herself Tikki smirked. “Well… I don’t see any jack o'lanterns around. If they didn’t want to be haunted, they should have taken the proper steps against malevolent spirits.”

“That’s the spirit! Why don’t you go after the spectacles gang. Take some revenge on behalf of your little bug.”

Tikki’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t been very appreciative on how they’d been pushing Marinette into these situations.

“I think I’d like that a lot.” She started to phase through the floors before quickly returning. “Oh! I almost forgot - Happy Samhain, stinky sock.”

Plagg grinned back at her. “And a happy Samhain to you too, Tik.”

[iddaxia]

be natural ; vlive !

                              detail your character doing a vlive broadcast (performance)

the winter chill and the falling sun marks the start of a january night. january 14th, 2018. daxia is a sweaty mess, the product of overtime at the dance studio after the rest of the girl’s had trinkled out on their own accord. bored, and looking for something new, she lurks to vlive to                                                     start her livestreaming adventures.

“you’ve got this, daxia, you’ve got this! you’re really strong, what else would you be with parents like us? exactly. do us proud, our little bao.” the words uttered from the petite eighteen year old hardly matched who she was, but instead she was channeling all the things she knew her parents would say if they were here. she was still young, and although she’d been forced to face korea all on her own, she needed their love all the more.

so, there she was, about to begin her very first vlive, sitting in the middle of the practice room floor. only four months into their debut, and she’d already felt she was lacking, so she’d stayed behind when the rest of the girls left, trying her best to keep up. three hours into the solo session, and she wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there but all daxia knew was she was approximately five seconds from starting her stream. perhaps it was her need of comfort? or just company, after the feeling of loneliness crept up on her? or maybe she just needed a little motivation to know the grueling hours weren’t for nothing. she’d spent the last five minutes staring down her reflection in the mirror, fixing her hair of any stray hairs and trying her best to eliminate the sweat flowing down her forehead. there was no going back now, for the moment she was about to call it quits the red dot signaled she was live. xia swallowed the lump in her chest.

“uh...it’s….” she watched as the viewers flooded in, certainly not impressive in comparison to the numbers a olympus member, by comparison, would receive, but they felt like millions in daxia’s eyes. for a second, they believe she doesn’t know she’s on, messages such as “are you there, xia?” and “xia, we’re waiting!! <3” swept through the screen as thousands of hearts flashed at her, showing her support. how did other people do these things so naturally? it felt so intimidating, all these people watching her.

but then she remembered, all these people were watching her. expectantly. waiting for something to happen. she had to do something, and do it now. the starry-eyed, ambitious teen was nothing if not willing to step put her comfort zone and into the spotlight, and she’d be damned if she stopped over some simple livestream. so, putting on her best smile, she stood up, and performed what may have been the worst jingle to come to man.

“it’s xia cam, and we’re ready to go! get your pj’s and relax, and enjoy the show!” the ending of the song results in her thumping back to the ground, full of giggles. apparently, the embarrassing stunt was a success, because within seconds the comment section begins exploding as hearts display their approval. she told herself she wouldn’t get caught up in the feedback in order to salvage the confidence she had, but she couldn’t help the tinge of excitement every time a new visitor appeared. “thank you for the comment, cheeeeerrrybomb112?” she asked, confusion in her voice as she tried her best to draw the word out as it had been written in the username. she had tried her best to include the names of each commenter when she could, as they passed by rather quickly, since she still knew the feeling she got whenever she’d been recognized by her favorite idols. “they asked me - can i speak,, english please!” while her tone was pleasant, she found the omnipresent knot in her throat tighten. what was she to say? daxia, since her debut, had been ridiculed for her poor korean skills she’d been trying her best to do. even doing a korean live was difficult, and the only reason she’d chose it over her native tongue was to prove it could be done. english? if she had trouble speaking the language of the country she’d lived in for over a year, how was she to say something in english?

“um….i love you guys! please love me, and....yeah, that’s it.” the last phrase is a jumbled transition back to korean, as her cheeks heat up. “did i do well?” she asks, leaning into the camera, eyes squinted as she struggles to read the screen. curse her awful vision, she’d neglected her contacts on the way out this morning. “nightmarejia - nice username! you’re worried about the other girls, right?” she asks, reading the curious are the unnies with you? “no...well, jia-unnie just left a hour ago, if that’s what you were wondering. but mm, i’m all alone!” the girl is quick to jump to other topics, though, not wanting anyone to worry about her working too hard. she got enough from everyone else as it was.

the night continues as xia works to satisfy the fans through a challenge in which she had to do five-second dance covers, as well as answering some questions and saying requested phrases. fans are sure the request of “ahin snatches my wig”, said naively by an utterly puzzled daxia. all in all, the night is a sucessful one, and after long enough she forgets she’s on screen, but rather feels she’s talking to the coven personally. “oh, we’ve got a stan from another group here!” she can read it clearly says olympus onscreen, but decided against announcing it. “they said….i don’t stan but i think she’s cute.” she reads the phrase in english, and in that moment she’s immensely grateful to have american friends who taught her some slang. stanning, from what she’d heard, was good. it meant someone was a fan of you and supported you. but this person….didn’t feel that way about nightmare. “thank you, so much! i appreciate it, but why don’t you stan nightmare, too? we work really hard, please support us!” there’s an obvious playful tone ot her voice, but she can’t help but feel a bit discouraged at the lack of support from covens themselves, but rather multi fans popping in out of curiosity. a short pout is followed by a longer grin, and she’s about to comment on their upcoming project until a knock can be heard on the door.

“the room’s taken!” she calls, before continuing. she returns her eyes to the screen, where a hate comment, one of the many she’d tried her best to avoid. she hadn’t read it before reading, though, and was seconds away from reading out the horribly vulgar statement. “hey, someone says nightmare can-” before she can fully read the comment, a second knock on the door signifies something may be wrong, and looking back in confusion she realizes her time was up. with nightmare and her own time combined, she’d been in the room for nearly seven hours. no doubt someone else wanted a turn.

getting the hint, she turned to the viewers, close to reaching the twenty five minute mark. “alright, covens, i’ve got to go now. let’s talk to each other really soon, alright?’

the comments of protest make it difficult for her to refuse their requests of just five for minutes, but she decided to call it a day and close the live. “alright, alright, i’ll be back soon! i promise, i love you guys! stay healthy.” and with that, she presses “stop”, causing her screen to go black and the only image to be her own staring back at her.

“good job, bao,” she says, as she knows her father would if he were watching her. it’s only the small accomplishment of completing a stream, but one which makes her imagine her parents, miles away, wrapping their arms around her as they tell her how shocking it is that she’s received so many fans. to her it was so much more, it showed her that there were people there, watching her. supporting her. although the parent’s were hardly accepting of her dream, the images she created in her head gave her hope that one day they’d fully stand behind her.

the thought is bittersweet, causing homesickness and pride to shoot down her chest, and just as the door opens to reveal an impatient idol she wipes a tear down her cheek. “good job, bao.”

[aroworlds]

Aro-Spec Artist Profile: Luthyx

Our next aro-spec creator is @luthyx​, who also goes by Petrichlorine and MUSE-42. They’re better known on this blog for sharing snippets from an in-progress work called Sanction the Skies, celebrating all things a-spec and dragon!

Luthyx is a transmasculine, agender aro-ace creative with mental illnesses, specialising in speculative fiction and digital art, the latter both original and fancontent (primarily for How to Train Your Dragon). You can find their gorgeous art on their DeviantArt account and their writing at @sanctiontheskies​, currently featuring artwork, maps and a wealth of worldbuilding and characterisation teasers. Lastly, if you enjoy Flight Rising, you can check out their dragons under the name Luthyx!

With us Luthyx talks their confidence in their aromanticism, the need to live an authentic life on their terms, the way their characters and worlds become part of them, and writing spec fic as an aro. Their determination to craft and make as they need sparkles in every word and dragon scale, so please let’s give them all our love, encouragement, gratitude, kudos and follows for taking the time to explore what it is to be aromantic and creative.

Can you share with us your story in being aro-spec?

My tale is a fairly straightforward one. By the time I was of the age that most people started experiencing their first crushes, I’d moved to a different state and begun taking an online school, free of the peer pressure that lies ever-present in most traditional classrooms.

Even then, as I began to develop my skills and passion for writing, I’d already begun to see the influence of the omnipresent Romantic Subplot. It was everywhere: books, film, music, poems. I couldn’t so much as flip on the radio without hearing a disillusioned, autotuned cry for help healing a broken heart. I hated it. I still do.

It quickly became apparent to me that I wasn’t like the others. Every once and a while, my mom would drag me to her church, where I’d be forced to endure the company of undisciplined tween boys and catty, Twilight-obsessed girls. It was the girls especially that caught my attention: the sheer passion and fervency with which they discussed who they found hot, what Hogwarts house they were in, and their critiques and praise of The Hunger Games. I found it absurd to objectify people, fantasy or real, like that.

I think this was probably about the time I began to realize that I was agender, too, but that’s a story for another day. Thankfully, I’d already become a headstrong, independent teenager, and I was proud to say that I was different, that my interests were in something that, in my head, was much more important and much more intense than those of others my age.

I can’t recall the first time I heard the term aromantic or the first day that I applied it to myself. I think, deep down, I always knew, and I’ve always been astoundingly proud of it. To me, romance isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of things, but just another life experience I haven’t had, like owning fourteen chihuahuas or going on a warm summer vacation to the Middle East. Not everybody wants to experience those things, and society is completely fine with it - I see no reason as to why they should feel differently about romantic relationships, but I suppose they do. Dealing with the fallout of that bias is their problem.

I am me, and the me I know will not be held down by stereotypes, will not conform to any sort of life script I am handed, will not feel sorrow or remorse for a single experience lost. I’m here for a good time, and my idea of a good time involves doing what I love. Romance is not on that list.

Can you share with us the story behind your creativity?

My creative streak started young. For as long as I’ve known it, I’ve been drawing characters and writing stories. Mind you, the first stories were about Littlest Pet Shop figures and were written with the help of my parents, but it was a start nonetheless. Art, in its many different forms, has always been my form of self-expression. I often wandered off into my imaginary world when I got bored, and when I went to sleep every night, I’d often spend hours just imagining characters doing as they do before drifting off to sleep. I still do that every night - like clockwork.

I think it was when I was in my early teens - thirteen or fourteen, maybe - that I decided I wanted to be a writer. I recall turning to my mother one night and saying, “I wish I could write a book,” still believing that I was too young to attempt such a thing yet. “Nobody says you can’t do it right now!” were the words she gave back to me, and then off I started.

The project I started then is one that’s still ongoing now - a series of books I call Sanction the Skies, featuring dragons, wars, and a good hunk of divine intervention. I’ve worked and reworked it ever since that fateful day, improving the lore, changing the characters, watching my perspective of them evolve and change alongside me. They are a part of me, through and through.

It hasn’t been the easiest journey, but I’m still chipping away at it, ever-determined. It’s been doubly hard to follow my dream because of all of the messages about how impossible it is to be a writer in this day and age, and that you can’t do it without a well-paying side job. My stubborn self says, “To hell with you!” and works on it anyway. I want to write, to draw, to forge, to craft, and the world be damned if it tries to stand in my way.

Are there any particular ways your aro-spec experience is expressed in your art?

The only way it’s expressed is in my writing, where almost all of my characters are explicitly aro. The Romantic Subplot is a tiresome, often badly-done trope, and I’d like to steer away from it altogether. I want to show that a friendship is not worth less than a romance, and that a good story can still be told without the boy getting the girl - or the girl getting the girl for the sake of progressiveness.

What challenges do you face as an aro-spec artist?

Honestly? Not much, at least not yet. I think I may face a bit of pushback in the future because my novel features no romance, but overall, I’ll probably be fine in that regard.

How do you connect to the aro-spec and a-spec communities as an aro-spec person?

I rarely connect with them at all, honestly. Most of the discussion I see is either people screaming about amatonormativity or people asking, “Am I asexual/aromantic if…?” Alternatively, there’s people discussing their experience being partially a-spec or aro-spec, none of which I can relate to. All I want is a place to revel in my identity, to be able to talk about anything BUT romance, to form strong friendships.

Sometimes it hurts me to think that the friends I have now will soon find romantic partners, and I’ll be left behind in the dust as a third wheel. I hope my friends won’t do that, that perhaps I can still make myself heard - but who knows? I’ve had no luck with finding any other aro-spec people in my region at all, unfortunately, so the internet is all I’ve got in that regard. I’ll just have to wait and see what the future holds!

How do you connect to your creative community as an aro-spec person?

I find I connect somewhat decently. I write fantasy and sci-fi, which generally seem to be more acceptable genres to have a lack of romance, especially when a pair of dragons are the main characters. It is alienating from many fandoms, though, because they often focus so much on the romantic partnerships and shipping. Almost every blocked tag in my dash concerns ships, kissing, hugging, romance, children, and anything related to those.

Can you share with us something about your current project?

Ohoho, this is a fun one! Well, right now, I’m working on re-writing Chapter One for the trillionth time after giving the town it takes place in a complete and utter overhaul. I’m also working on making a short comic that takes place in the universe of the book but is unrelated to the main plot, though it features characters and locations that may be explored in future books. I want to do the comic in the hopes of gaining some traction and interest in the books, since I’m rather horrible at advertising at the moment.

Have you any forthcoming works we should look forward to?

Again, the comic! It’s about a con artist who incurs the wrath of the demigodess of misfortune after a con resulted in the death of a sick hatchling. There’s also some stuff with an ancient, precursor species of dragons and one of their final remaining sanctuaries.