#which makes me think there will be an Augen 2

[frogwithhatto]

Ich liebe dich

Pairings: KönigxGhostxSoap

TW: Simon gets hurt for like 2 seconds, but it´s only mentioned briefly

Summary: König teaches them some german but forgets he has been using one particular phrase a lot around them, which Ghost asks him about...Said phrase might translate to 'I love you' which they haven't told each other yet.

Notes: just super fluffy and wholesome, those 3 deserve it, it is set in the same „universe“ as my other fic about them; Alleine. If it’s a continuation is up to you to decide :)

Words: ~1.7K

König was sitting on his bed, back against the headrest, legs crossed. He was lost in the book he was currently reading eyes scanning the pages his mind encompassed by the story. He wasn’t wearing his hood, there was no need for it in the privacy of his own room.

There was a knock on the door, followed by two familiar voices asking if they could come in. König couldn’t hide his smile as he eagerly called back that they could enter. His smile grew even wider as he saw Johnny who was making his way towards him in an instant, crawling on the bed and laying his head in the Austrians lap. „Mmhh missed ya.“ he mumbled nuzzling his head on one of Königs thighs. Ghost let out a hum, agreeing to Johnnys words. All of them knew they had only been apart for the briefing Ghost and Soap were attending but still König felt warm and fuzzy at those words. They missed him even though they weren’t apart for more than a few hours? The thought made him blush, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Ghost wasn’t as eager as the Scot simply opting to sit down next to König and resting his head on his shoulder. The Austrian could see how he must’ve been smiling as well beneath his balaclava. „What are ya reading there?“ Ghost asked his voice deep and his eyes laced with curiosity as he scanned the pages. Johnnys interest was sparked as well as he tried twisting his head in a way that would allow him to read the title on the books spine. „Oh iz jus an old German book, my mom uzed to read it to me when I was a child.“ König answered a smile spread on his face as he indulged in reminiscences.

„Could you teach us some German König?“ Ghost requested, lifting his head from the others shoulder to look at him with questioning eyes. Oh god those eyes König could get lost in them for hours. Johnny nodded eagerly agreeing with Simons idea but chose to keep his head in the Austrians lap. König put the book on his nightstand and proceeded to place his left hand on Soaps shoulder absentmindedly drawing little shapes on it.

„Well of courze uhm let me think…“ he trailed off, racking his brain for anything he could teach them, suddenly he had an idea. He placed his right hand on Simons cheek, thumb ghosting over his cheekbone as their eyes met. The Austrian almost got lost in them, Simons light and incredibly long lashes blinking at him. „Du hast wunderschöne Augen.“ Königs voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke those words, his eyes soft and full of adoration as he gazed at the other man. Ghost didn’t understand the words but still felt his cheeks heating up, they had clearly been a compliment and the softness of the moment had overwhelmed him. „W-what does it mean?“ he whispered scared that talking too loud would interrupt the wholesome atmosphere. Now it was Königs turn to blush, nervously breaking eye contact and mumbling „Well it meanz u hav beautiful eyes.“ Simon was sure his face was bright red beneath the balaclava, his cheeks heating up and a grin spreading on his face.

„Mhh if that ain’t true Lt.“ Soap piped up.

„Ah shut up you two.“ Ghost laughed and proceeded to push up his mask to place a small peck on Königs pink cheek. His lips lingered on the others skin a bit longer than necessary, a silent thank you. Simons slightly chapped lips a stark contrast to the slight stubble on Königs cheek.

„Now make Johnny blush too.“ he whispered into the Austrians ear his lips curled into an evil grin before returning to his original position. His mask still on the bridge of his nose and his head resting against Königs shoulder.

„Hmm letz see… can’t forget our little man, right?“ König stated petting the Scots hair. „Hey it’s not my fault you two are giants!“ Soap huffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and pouted. „Aww no don’t pout now, Liebling. Dein Lachen ist viel süßer.“ König noted as he gently traced the shape of Johnnys lips with his thumb. The scot was looking up at him, his eyes widened as he asked what exactly the Austrian had just said to him. „Your smile iz way cuter.“ König whispered. The statement had indeed made Soap blush which didn’t stop him from shooting the Austrian his biggest grin. Ghost let out a little ‚aww‘ but suddenly he remembered he had wanted to ask König for some time now…

„Hey uhm you’ve said that one phrase I can’t remember right now a few times, what does it mean?? Johnny help me out here.“ „Uhm… OH yeah ish liebe disch? That the one you meant Si?“ Ghost nodded sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest to see Königs face better. He was a bit shocked to see that the others face was bright red, well at least where he could see his cheeks, the Austrian was pressing his palms against it. An attempt to hide from the explaining that awaited him. He was silently scolding himself for being such an idiot, admitting to more serious feelings and complimenting his partners was just way easier for him in his mother tongue, definitely not because they couldn’t understand him…

Soap also sat up at the confused look Ghost shot him, crossing his legs to sit opposite of the flustered Austrian. „Hey König I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.“ Johnny stated as he placed his hand on his tight, an attempt to ground König and asses the situation. „Yeah you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, love.“ Ghost added, worry laced in his deep voice. He and Soap shared another worried glance.

„N-nein it’s fine I’m j-just… uhm I got thrown sa uhm bit off.“ he smiled as he removed his hands from his face. Soap had said those words without knowing what they meant but still the Austrians brain had short circuited. In order to calm his nerves König proceeded to take a deep breath as he gently took Soaps hand in his left and Ghosts in his right. They were still confused, a nervous quiet spread throughout the room.

„Ich liebe dic-.. euch sorry plural means uhm I love you, Johnny a-and I love you Simon“ König stated eyes nervously darting between his lovers. They hadn’t said those words to each other yet except for the Austrian who hadn’t admitted to it in a language the others would’ve been able to understand. He wasn’t one to hide his feelings, in their line of field one had to appreciate every moment not spent in combat. Still those words scared him, his fear of rejection getting the best of him.

Suddenly it clicked for Soap how König would mumble those words in his ear when they were cuddling both of them almost asleep but still trying to stay awake a bit longer to relish in each others touch. How he would pant them at him after they had a play fight in bed, Soap straddling the Austrians hips, both of them out of breath and grinning from ear to ear. Königs eyes growing soft and full of endearment as he had said them hypnotised by Johnnys winded laughs and giggles.

Ghosts eyes also widened in realisation, König had said those words after an especially intense mission in which Simon had been wounded. He had rushed to the brits side as soon as everything was clear worry in his eyes, hands frantically inspecting Ghosts wounds. He had cursed and spat out various German words Simon didn’t understand and he had just gone along with it not paying closer attention.

„So ein Dreck… fuck“

And

„Ghost?? Scheiße! You wiz me?…“

But after Simon had confirmed he was doing alright and König double checked to make sure of it, he had ended with:

„Gott sei Dank, ich liebe dich.“

König had grown incredibly nervous. Why weren’t they saying anything? Oh god this had been a mistake, but he did love them why lie about it? He was pulled out of his thoughts as Soap squeezed his hand, the others eyes searching for his. As König finally mustered up the strength to look at Johnny he saw the look of pure happiness in his face. His eyes were wrinkling at the edges and his lips were spread in a smile. Shifting his attention to Ghost he noticed a similar expression, his eyes full of love and a soft smile playing on his lips.

„I love u both too so so much, ya fuckin’ giants.“ Johnny laughed pulling both of his lovers faces closer to leave kisses all over them. Mushing Ghosts and Königs faces together, their cheeks pressed against each others as they beamed at Soap, giggling after every peck they received. Oh the Scot had those two wrapped around his little finger.

König had pulled them down with him as soon as he had the chance to, Soap was laying on top of him as Ghost was tucked into his side resting his head on the Austrians chest. Simon looked back and forth between his partners, he was feeling incredibly lucky, he almost couldn’t believe what was happening.

„I love you too Johnny… and I-I Isch lieabe disch too? uhm König.“ he mumbled a bit insecure the whole situation still overwhelming him. Nevertheless he tried to imitate how König had pronounced the words as best as he could. Soap simply beamed at Simon pressing a kiss to his forehead. Königs cheeks were still a light shade of pink as he pulled Ghost impossibly close which led to Simon nuzzling the crook of the Austrians neck, breathing in his scent of freshly cut herbs which had mixed with Johnnys minty one.

Soap had already fallen asleep as König let out a quiet „thank zou“ voice sounding sleepy and stifling a yawn, Ghost simply replied by pressing kisses to his neck. „Night König…“ the Brit paused contemplating his next words. „love u.“ Simon smiled into the others neck shuffling closer a content smile on his lips as he closed his eyes.

„Ich liebe dich auch Simon.“ König yawned tightening his grip on his partners as he drifted off.

Translations: Gott sei Dank - Thank god

[utilitycaster]

For the ask meme: 2, 3, 19 for Beau

2. Favorite canon thing about Beau is that she is one of my favorite archetypes, the "I don't care (cares more than anyone ever has)" type of character. She's an okay but not incredible liar (proficient but +1 CHA only gets you so far) especially early on, and so really she's part of the top table triangle of "I know what you are" - both Fjord and Caleb figure out she's not actually just here to punch people and get drunk pretty quickly. She has profound and earnest hidden depths and they're also very badly hidden, and I think that's wonderful.

3. I do think the one real casualty of the Mighty Nein having a very different plot than the one Matt expected was Beau's work with the Cobalt Soul; this naturally would have probably been really different had the party spent a lot of time in Rexxentrum working closely with the Augen Trust early on, as she'd have been balancing those two organizations and serving in many ways as a go-between. So I wish we had gotten a bit more. It actually was pretty solid through the early Xhorhas arc, but sort of fell off after that until she started doing research about Aeor at which point it picked up again. I think her progression would have made a bit more sense and felt more natural if she'd had had more structured missions. That's not really a fault of Marisha or Beau's concept though, or rather, it's a limitation of the subclass which is Matt's build and it was addressed very much post-campaign. (Honestly, for a lot of the Nein, my answer to this will be "I wish we had more")

19. Honestly? While there are relationships I think are obviously not good to or for Beau in canon (her father, natch) and relationships I think get mischaracterized by the fandom (Jester, Veth, sometimes Caleb) I think one of the best parts about how Marisha played Beau was her relationships. They all feel incredibly real and natural and developed. I do wish we could have had more time with Dairon, and maybe gotten a bit more into her past with Tori (again, my feedback on the Nein will largely be "canon is fantastic, wish we had more") but there's no relationship she has that makes me go "this was badly done." I do think her relationship with her father sucks though and is entirely his fault.

[lliyrapohl]

Haare hab ich für den Wind

Hände für's Gestikulieren

Knochen hab ich für den Frust

Nerven um sie zu verlieren

Lippen hab ich für die Lust

Aber, aber, aber Augen

Hab ich nur für dich

- Von Wegen Lisbeth, Augen 1

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

.

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i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

[arclundarchivist]

Repayment

So, “spoilers” from the Campaign 2 wrap up, but after the reveal about what truly happened to Caleb at  Vergesson, I had this story kicking around my head and refusing to let go. This is like to be the last story based around the Mighty Nein that I write, but I look forward to what Exandria Unlimited and Campaign 3 will bring. Hope you enjoy.

Caleb’s breathe still hitches as he passes through the Gates of Vergesson, staring around with contempt as several guards frantically move about the premises.

“You okay?” Beau asks as she steps up, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looks back at her with a wane grin, “Yeah, I will be once we fully close this chapter.”

“Thank you all for coming,” he states, as he entirely turns to take in his companions, “I’m sorry to drag you all away from your lives-.”

“Caleb, come on, of course, we would be here.” Jester interrupts, walking up and squeezing his other arm. 

Fjord smiles at him, “You worked hard to get here. We’ve got your back.”

Yasha gives him a genuine, quiet smile.

“Always,” Veth states, walking up and wrapping her hand around his.

Kingsley walks past all of them and gives the Sanitorium a critical once over, his hand closing a bit tighter around his whip as he eyes some of the guards, “I have the distinct desire to burn this place to the ground, honestly.”

“Maybe later,” Caleb mutters as he continues onto the ground, his eyes narrowing as he spots Ludinus and several Cereberus guards milling about in the center of the courtyard.

“Ah, I see that you finally arrived.” Ludinus remarks with a broad smile, “I have the patient and inventory lists that you asked for Expositor.”

He passes several stacks of paper to Beau, who shoots him a look that readily conveys her distaste, “Thank you, Martinet, though I hope you don’t mind that I make inquiries of my own and delve into the records stored here, just to be thorough.”

“I would expect nothing less of the Soul,” Martinet states, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, you can actually expect and accept this as well,” Beau says with a smirk, handing over a piece of the paper.

Caleb fights the smile that wants to grow across his face, while some of his other compatriots aren’t as subtle as the Martinet quickly scans over the letter, his face shifting deeper and deeper into a frown.

“Martinet?” the one guard asks, who Caleb notes is sending him, Veth and Jester, deeply hateful looks, Jester staring back at him a bit despairingly.

“This is not what we agreed,” Ludinus states, calmly, slowly, looking up at Caleb with a sharp glare.

“But it is what we agreed to, with the backing of the King,” Beau states, with a wide shit-eating grin.

“As of this moment, the Sanitorium is under the purview of the Cobalt Soul and the Augen Trust in a joint investigation into Trent’s activities and any sign of collusion with other members of the Cerberus Assembly.” Caleb states.

Ludinus opens his mouth and freezes as seemingly from thin air several Cobalt Souls members, joined by Dairon and alongside a few members of the Kingsguard.

Fjord smirks as he shifts the Arcane Gate around, and more members of the Soul emerge, “Couldn’t help but use a little bit of theatrics to hammer the point home, now could we?”

“In other words, you are all dismissed,” Veth states, pointing a finger at each of the Sanitorium guards.

“Clever.” Ludinus states, with a begrudging smirk, “Truly, I am impressed.”

“Martinet, you can’t just let them...that devilkin bewitched me! The bi-” the one guard shouts, pointing at Jester with a furious glare, the force of it having her take a step back.

Yasha stepped forward, her presence overpowering his anger for a moment, her hand briefly reaching up towards the blades on her back, “I wouldn’t finish that sentence.”

All attention had shifted to the guard, Fjord placing a comforting hand on Jester’s shoulder, which she thankfully grasped, while he glared furiously at the guard.

“They’re murderers.” Cymie continues.

“I mean, what adventurer isn’t really.” Fjord snarks.

“You’re familiar with us, right, Cymie?” Caleb asks, drawing the man’s attention to him, “The last time I was here, things did not go smoothly. I would prefer that as little violence as possible take place today.”

“But I can gladly knock you on your ass if you’re looking for trouble,” Beau states, cracking her knuckles in a devil-may-care fashion.

“I would be careful, Mr. Widoghast. That is almost an admission of guilt.” the Martinet states, giving him a pensive look.

“There is already a great deal of guilt to be had in the halls of this place.” Caleb returns, shifting his eyes to the Martinet, “What is a little more?”

The Martinet’s eyes narrow slightly, though his smirk widens, as he turns to the guards, “Do as they ask, King Dwendal would see it done, so it will be.”

“I will be taking my leave now.” Ludinus states, “Masterful work, Mr. Widoghast.”

And with that, he teleports away.

“I have stated that he terrifies me before, right?” Beau asks as a shiver seems to pass down her spine.

“Yes, and I feel the same,” Caleb remarks.

“Veth, Yasha, can you keep an eye on the guards and maybe go hunting around in the barracks, see if there is anything to be had that further implicates Trent?” Caleb asks.

“Of course, whatever you need,” Veth states, Yasha nodding grimly, kissing her partner on the cheek and Jester a comforting side hug as they begin to follow the guards.

“I will accompany them.” Dairon states, “In case of any...trouble.”

She smirks slightly and falls into step beside Yasha as the other Cobalt members and the Kingsguard begin to spread out across the grounds.

Beau stretches and gives Caleb a devilish smirk, “Time for me to go record diving right.”

“Anything you think is important, collect it and bring it back.” Caleb states, “But can I see the patient list first, please?”

She hands it over, his eyes hunting through the information avidly, but nothing immediately stands out to him, and he quickly hands it back.

“Come on, Fjord, let’s get to work,” Beau states with a grin as he shoots the pair a curious look.

“You want me on information gathering detail?” he asks partially suspiciously.

“Well...you are the one with the bag of holding.” Beau remarks with a smirk.

“Did you only ask me along to be a pack mule?” Fjord accuses.

“No, we wanted the flair too,” Caleb stated with a soft smile.

“Oh...well...great,” Fjord mutters, Jester giggling slightly as he crestfallen expression.

“Come on, Captain,” Beau states with a laugh, throwing her arm around him, “What about you, Kingsley?”

“I’m not much of a reader.” he states with a smirk, “If our handsome wizard would have me, I’d go where ever he’s headed.”

Caleb chuckles, “I am not opposed. I just hope...that I can find what I’m looking for.”

“I do too, Caleb.” Jester states with a soft smile.

“You’re going to be the key if that hope is right,” he states as they all head their separate ways, Caleb, Jester, and Kingsley heading into the main building.

He feels his arms begin to itch the deeper he makes his way into this place, his discomfort recognized by his companions, who each reach out to comfort him in their own ways.

They pass room after room, but there is no sign until finally, he freezes as a door partially swings ajar, a prominent etched symbol of the Archeart resplendent against the wall.

He steps inside the breathe hitching as he looks about: but the room is empty.

This was a likely possibility he’d gone over and over again in his head. However, he is still immediately crestfallen as he feels his chance at giving back, to repay the random act of kindness he had learned from Astrid was a truth, not a figment as Trent had endeavored to claim, begin to slip away.

“Magician?” Kingsley asks, catching his shoulder and pointing to the other side of the hall, where the building opened into an internal courtyard that opened to the sky.

Caleb looks and freezes as standing within the courtyard, staring up at the sky with a wide smile, was the woman.

He felt his feet move before he even realized he was walking, Jester and Kingsley falling in behind him as he marches into the opening.

The woman turns to look at him, no recognition in her eyes, which seem to stare right through him, though the smile is the same as the one from his memories, the one he saw before all he’d known had changed in a single, terrible, heartwrenching but freeing instant.

“J-Jester?” he asks, gesturing to the woman, Jester nods and lifts her hands, pink and green magic circling her hands and bubbling from her lips as she spoke, and stepped towards the woman, who turned to look at Jester in a hint of confusion, as the tiefling gently placed a hand on her.

The magic faded, and the woman seemed unchanged until her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell backward, Jester catching her and lowering her to the floor. 

Kingsley darted forward, “Think it worked, Joybuzzer?” 

“I hope so!” Jester cried, “Why else would she just faint?”

Caleb kneeled down as the woman shifted, sitting up out of Jester’s arms and blinking several times.

She looked around in confusion and froze as she spotted him, a query forming on her lips as recognition fluttered in her eyes. She slowly reached out to him as he offered a hand.

“My name is Caleb Widoghast, and I think I need to start this with a very simple sentence.” Caleb states, with a soft genuine smile, “Thank you and hello.”

The woman smiles back, “Hello, and...thank you.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

There is a German song called "Mit dir schlafen" by Alligatoah which translates to "Sleeping with you". It's about to people who are attracted to each other but both are waiting for the other one to make a move. He even mentions an elephant in the room which made me immediately think of Johnlock obviously 😊

[Part 1: Alligatoah] Es wird niemand seh'n, woran ich grad denke Schießbefehl an der Schamgrenze Plakatwände an Bushaltestationen Sind bedruckt nur mit Erotik, alle gucken auf den Boden Dabei wär's die beste Zeit, es gibt Partner per Knopf Und kein'n strafenden Gott, der ins Schlafzimmer glotzt Du kannst lieben, wen du willst, und dank moderner Medizin Sind wir safe, aber alle woll'n Gesellschaftsspiele spiel'n What the fuck? Dann spiel'n wir halt Tabu auf Mamas Couch Das einzig Animalische ist dieser Elefant im Raum Ich kann ihn ausblenden, Friede, Freude, Auenland Ich find' schon einen Fingernagel, den ich noch zerkauen kann [Pre-Hook: Alligatoah] Adam und Eva der Moderne Feigenblatt vorm Mund [Hook: Alligatoah] Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Aber ich will mit dir schlafen Es sind wieder einmal die Gedankenfilme Die mich hilflos versklaven Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich dich versklaven will Deshalb sitz' ich in der Ecke und ich warte still Darauf, dass du mit mir schlafen willst

[Part 2: Alligatoah] Ich hab' gehofft, wenn man älter wird, geht's nur noch um Liebe Doch in mir kocht immer noch ein Proteinshake Derselbe Blicke war früher sexy, heut ist es ein Creep-Face Teenage Dirtbag, nur ohne das Teenage Dabei wollt ich doch zeigen: Ich bin nicht wie diese Asozialen Dich als Menschen wertschätzen, ignorier den Sabberfaden Abgesehen davon bin ich feinfühlig, hi, grüß' dich! Aber die Gedanken sind freizügig Ich bin nervös, wenn keine Machtworte helfen Versuch' ich mir die Menschen kurz nicht nackt vorzustell'n Fuck, vergessen zu blinzeln, mir tun die Augen weh Ihr wollt in mein Kopfkino, darf ich ma' den Ausweis seh'n? [Pre-Hook: Alligatoah] Adam und Eva der Moderne Feigenblatt vorm Mund [Hook: Alligatoah] Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Aber ich will mit dir schlafen Es sind wieder einmal die Gedankenfilme Die mich hilflos versklaven Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich dich versklaven will Deshalb sitz' ich in der Ecke und ich warte still Darauf, dass du mit mir schlafen willst

[Bridge: Alligatoah] Sicher ist mein Liebesbrief für dich schmutziges Schmierpapier Sicher magst du Tiere, aber sicher nicht das Tier in mir Sicher hältst du mich für 'nen rumfickenden dummen Wichser Sicher bin ich unsicher (Sicher, sicher, sicher) Sicher könnte man auch wie die Hunde ohne Pathos lieben Sich am allerersten Date gegenseitig am Arschloch riechen Sicher ist sicher, doch das ist sicher nicht deine Sicht Sicher hat's 'n Grund, dass du so schweigsam bist, oder? [Hook: Esther Graf, Alligatoah & Beide] Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Aber ich will mit dir schlafen Es sind wieder einmal die Gedankenfilme Die mich hilflos versklaven Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich dich versklaven will Deshalb sitz' ich in der Ecke und ich warte still Darauf, dass du mit mir schlafen willst, yeah Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Aber ich will mit dir schlafen, yeah Es sind wieder einmal die Gedankenfilme (Oh-oh) Die mich hilflos versklaven (Yeah, yeah) Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich mit dir schlafen will Ich will nicht sagen, dass ich dich versklaven will (Ohh) Deshalb sitz' ich in der Ecke und ich warte still (Uh-uh-uh) Darauf, dass du mit mir schlafen willst, oh yeah

(Lyrics from Genius.com || TRANSLATION)

Hey Lovely!

OOOOOOF this has big Johnlock Energy for SURE. I LOVE it, hahahha. Thank you so much for adding it!

🎶 LISTEN TO THE JOHNLOCK PLAYLIST ON [SPOTIFY] & [YOUTUBE] 🎶

[defilerwyrm]

⭐️ Bei Mir Bist Du Schön

FIC SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön on AO3

He opened his mouth to thank Essek but what came out instead was, “Deine Augen sind wunderschön.”

Essek stared at him, perfectly neutral save for the subtle rise of stark white eyebrows. “I don’t speak Zemnian,” he said, flashing his customary, placid little smile.

This is early Essek, well before c2e097, so this is a fully calculated move. That stare is him running simulations in his head, as it were, weighing his options, and he finally decides that he can learn more about Caleb if the guy thinks he doesn’t understand these little asides.

And boy did he ever just learn something juicy.

The second time, he was feeling petulant. Essek was normally a very patient and talented teacher, but there came a time when they butted heads over the best way to work a spell: Essek’s experience and Caleb’s contradicted each other, and neither was willing to admit that he was wrong because they weren’t. Caleb couldn’t have said why they were getting spirited over it. It was unlike them to lock horns this way, and the condescension chafed fiercely.

To my understanding, Wildemount never—at least post-Calamity—had a continent-spanning culture like the Roman Empire that would standardize learning across regions, and the Empire and Dynasty have utterly lacked in cultural exchange pretty much throughout their histories; so I reason that their approach to magic must be very damn different right down to the fundamentals. But, I also reason, magic is like math, in that there’s more than one way to come to a given conclusion—so the same spell cast by an Imperial mage might use different theory and somatic/verbal components with the same results.

I love fic that plays homage to cultural differences, so I figured that there must surely come a point where Caleb and Essek quibble about how to do a thing, with the crux being that they’re both right.

In a fit of pique, he muttered, “Du hast Glück, dass du abartig schön bist, denn du bist so ein Arsch.”

Essek’s head whipped up so fast that, for a moment, Caleb thought maybe he understood after all—but Essek just squinted at him without recognition and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Essek’s poker face is doing triple duty here because Caleb just said he’s hot af but also a dick, and this isn’t a sentiment Essek hasn’t heard before, but it hasn’t really gotten under his skin like it does this time.

Caleb passed a hand over his face and scratched at the beard he desperately needed to shave off. “Nothing,” he lied, “just annoyed with myself. This should be a moment of discovery, now that we know this can go either way. A door has unlocked and we’re both pulling it shut. Can we start again?”

The slip, and Essek’s reaction to it, made Caleb realize that they were both being dillweeds about the whole thing and it wasn’t going to move them forward at all.

It was—of course, of fucking course the intonation mattered. “A tonal shift,” he breathed. He took Essek by the lapels of his robe and shook him gently, and blurted out, “Ich könnte dein Gehirn küssen und dann deinen Mund.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nott squeaked at the same time as Essek chuckled almost nervously, “Caleb, I don’t—”

Hot boi damn near let the cat out of the bag right here. It’s certainly not that he specifically did not want to be smooched at all, but more that 1) Nott was RIGHT THERE so it would be mortifying, 2) he’s still very D: about physical contact and this point, and 3) he’s still very privately going “fuck fuck fuck WHY a HUMAN” about his own attraction to Caleb. There is very much a part of him that Wants That, but the rest of him is just not coping with it at all just yet.

The following morning, though, all he could think about was Dein Bett wäre besser and Essek’s careful fingers touching his face.

Both of them are fully mortified with themselves. They’re ridiculous. I see Caleb heading back to the Xhorhaus with shoulders bunched up, brow furrowed, and wide eyes glued to his own feet as his brain screams “DEIN BETT WÄRE BESSER” at him, mockingly, over and over. Slipping up and confessing your attraction to your crush is relatably horrifying (gods, I’ve been there, it’s awful) and Caleb is predisposed to beat himself up to begin with. Add in the rest of the party making a big deal over the fact that he spent the night over at Essek’s towers and you’ve got an abject storm in that little ginger head of his.

It did not help matters that no matter how much he insisted that nothing happened, the Mighty Nein were dead set on believing that he’d slept with his mentor, and they spent the next three days teasing him about it, none of them aware that he was simultaneously tormenting himself.

Okay so I try to be good and not talk shit about my own work these days, but that sentence just landed in a belly flop for me. I’m not sure it actually gets across what I’d meant, which was that Caleb was beating himself up for a different reason than what they all thought.

In the midst of a messy ambush by three of the wolf-cat eye-beasts, one of them managed to get the drop on Caleb, and it pinned him, screaming, to the ground. Its claws dug fiery punctures into either side of his chest. He thrashed, trying to get both hands up to cast, but it would be too late—his reflexes weren’t good enough. His body had never been nearly as sharp as his mind, and he was about to pay the price in the form of massive, dagger-like fangs lunging towards his throat. He screamed again, chest nearly frozen with fear, when—

Adventurers are generally made of tough stock, but I really wanted to dig into the POV of someone who’s being attacked by a terrifying cerature intent on ripping them apart. “You take 12 piercing damage and are knocked prone” is mechanical and dry; I wanted to show the full in-character implications of those mechanics.

Another fic that represents game mechanics narratively to absolutely stunning affect is Hard Mouth by road_rhythm, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I wrote Bei Mir before Hard Mouth started posting but had it been the other way around, it 100% would have been an inspiration in that regard.

He could not help but murmur, “Götter, ich bins so verschossen in dich.”

Fun fact: I got myself the book Talking Dirty German specifically for writing Caleb dialogue, and it really came in handy here. This idiom is from that book, as did abartig schön. The literal translation is “Gods, I am so shot into you,” which coming to think of it sounds a wee bit dirty but is figuratively very sappy.

Speaking of sappy….

“Das Gefühl ist Gegenseitig,” came the warm and sleepy reply.

Part of this is Essek being barely-conscious, but the bulk of it is this—and this is basically giving away the whole way the fic progresses: pretending not to know Zemnian began as a manipulation tactic to get intel, then became a game of “Let’s see how long it takes you to figure this out, smart boy” as their bond grew and Essek stopped deliberately trying to throw Caleb off, and finally when they were a couple he figured it would be cruel and pointless to keep up the ruse, especially since he’d been growing to appreciate pet names in their mother tongues.

Caleb took a deep breath, set his tea aside, and launched himself at Essek, who yelped, laughing, and danced out of his grasp. Essek led him on a merry chase around the kitchen and held out as long as he could before crying mercy at Caleb’s vicious tickling.

You know, I probably shouldn’t point this out in case my readers hadn’t cottoned onto it yet either, but it wasn’t until like a week after publishing this that I stopped and thought, “WTF happened to Essek’s teacup? Did he take the time to set it down? Did it get dropped and shatter? Did he show off and levitate it?? Did he bring it with him and get tea all over the place and himself?!” Smh…. Choose your own explanation, I guess, lmao.

The rolls were a little burnt that morning, but Caleb had no regrets.

Part of me feels like this is kind of a weak ending, but I justify it to myself by remembering how hard Caleb regretted his slip-ups over the course of the fic. He spends a good bit of copy beating himself up over them, so ultimately I think it fits, even if it kinda lacks punch.

[uupiic]

1-30 :)

There just went my morning :)

1. a song from the year you were born

Billy Joel - We Didn’t Start the Fire

2. a song that reminds you of school

Oomph! - Augen Auf

3. a song tied to a specific moment in your life

 I... can’t think of any...

4. a song that is not sung in your native language

I feel like this is for English/other big languages, because I could literally point at any song that’s not in Latvian.

5. a song over 5 minutes long

Skyforger – Migla, migla, Rasa, rasa

6. a song under 2 minutes long

I can’t come up with anything, sorry.

7.  an instrumental

Treasure Planet OST, James Newton Howard – 12 Years Later

8. a classical piece

Edward Grieg – Morning Mood.

(the name of that piece always escapes me, so I literally have it saved in bookmarks as ‘’that morning-themed music you know which one I mean, bitch’’

9. a song with no percussion

Ok, gonna go dive deep into Latvian bard* music then…

Austra Pumpure (lyrics by Viks) – Vienprātība

10. something you’ve heard performed live

Don’t do live stuff, next question

11. something you’d give ANYTHING to hear performed live

Anything from ‘’Totari’’ by Iļģi, tbh.

12. a song by an artist who’s from where you’re from (town/city/state/country)

Remix – Komunālais Blūzs **

13. a song made suddenly precious because of a special someone

No answer.

14. a song made suddenly awful because of a special someone

Nah.

15. something to BELT SHAMELESSLY/do DIVA HANDS to

What

16. something to SCREAM ALONG to

Anything by Skyforger. At least I fucking understand what’s going on there.

17. a song for raging

Anything by the Band That Shall Not Be Named. Put them on while I’m present, I dare you.

18. a song that demands lipsyncing into a makeshift microphone

Feuerschwanz - Totentanz

19. the last song you had stuck in your head

Likewise Feuerschwanz, but Das Elfte Gebot (and before anyone goes there, please remember that the Uncultured Eastern European Swine do know other languages than just their native and English :/ )

20. a song you’re dying to master all the words to

Nah, I’m okay with not knowing any.

21. a song that you could SLAY at karaoke

Čigānietes Dziesmiņa from ‘Vella Kalpi Vella Dzirnavās’…

22. a song you can’t help but dance to

Nope. That moment has yet to come that I feel comfortable dancing to shit.

23. a song that makes you want to dance on a table

See previous answer.

24. a song that makes you wanna STRIP

 25. a song with a great music video

See nr. 12

26. a song that makes you act out the music video when you hear it

See nr. 22, 23

27. a song with counting

What does this even mean? Like, your regular ‘’1, 2, 3, 4’’?

28. a song with spelling Y’all want some ABCs then????

 29. a song with lots of clapping Please no, I had my fill of those when I was still in school.

Fuck that.

30. a song 40 years older than you

Vaughn Monroe – Riders in the Sky

*yes, it’s a legit music genre that mostly present during Soviet occupation. Russia still has bards to this day

** yes, that was a real apartment :P This song sounds like I feel.

[pathogenic]

Y’all are getting tunes whether you ask for them or not

1. A song that reminds you of your childhood

Orinoco Flow - Enya

One of my favorite songs as a kid. I still listen to it because I love the otherworldly feel it has to it. Plus now I associate it with Myst because the instrumentals are a lot like the Myst classic soundtrack. That matters because the Myst series is the only video game my mom plays and I have fond memories watching her play.

2. A song to sleep to

Bad Wings - The Glitch Mob

The Glitch Mob has a lot of tracks I find to be rather soothing. This one especially because it is slower than most of their other tracks. I actually found this one when I was playing my bed time Pandora radio like back in ohhhh 2014 I believe? So it works.

3. A song that your best friend loves

We’ll roll with Isa over @ aiiizawa 

Pay No Mind (Feat. Passion Pit) - Madeon

Feeling is pretty mutual on how much this song rocks. It is nice, bouncy, and the song just makes you feel warm all over.

4. A song that hypes you the fuck up

Never Gonna Stop (The Red, Red Kroovy) - Rob Zombie

I will not be surprised when I get a speeding ticket due to this song. It’s just that good and I will never not go apeshit to it. I also love the bass in the intro, it sounds fucking killer in almost every car/truck I’ve been in.

5. A song you like to daydream to

Here Comes the Rain Again - Eurythmics

It’s soothing, it has a sweet vibe to it, it also has a longing feel to it. It works for almost every ship of mine, it instantly puts me in a mood. What else could I want from it?

6. A song that’s on at least 3 of your playlists

Bite Me! (Chrom Remix) - Hocico

This one was recommended to me by a very dear friend and I just love it. It’s on my personal playlist, a playlist for a friend’s character, and my general VtM playlist. It’s just a really cool song.

7. A song that you love from a genre you don’t usually like

Train, Train - Blackfoot

Rockabilly is something I want to get more into, but I really am so choosy. This was one given to me by my Dad and he was absolutely right to. The song fucking slaps.

8. A song that you liked when you where 10 that still slaps

Imaginary - Evanescence

I’ve loved Evanescence since I was a little one and I’m still right on that. Amy Lee’s voice is amazing and I still listen to her very often. This one was my favorite as a kid because on the Fallen album, you go from Tourniquet with it’s full orchestra ending and then it drops to this single violin in the intro and that rocked. I was always so excited to hear it as a kid. I also loved shouting “FLOWERS”. Didn’t really know any of the other lyrics until much later.

9. A song that makes you want to go on an adventure

Uncharted Worlds - Sam Hulick

Is it cheating to pull from a game OST? Either way, this song always makes me want to explore the galaxy. Lucky bastards in ME.

10. A song you’d want to dance with your partner to ( or future partner )

Ragtime Cat (Ft. Lilja Bloom) - Parov Stelar

I’ll take my L on this one, but I do genuinely love electro swing, I love swing dancing, and this one feels like the perfect one to dance with. It has a fun tempo and I also love the jump between new and old in this song.

11. A song to stomp around and pout to

Happy? - Mudvayne

I mean really, what else do you need beyond a passive-aggressive nu metal song to be angry to?

12. A song to listen to whilst you lie in a meadow

Wheel in the Sky - Journey

Sounds like the perfect place to contemplate, and Wheel in the Sky is the perfect song to do that with. Think about the future and fate while enjoying a good tune by Journey.

13. A song that reflects your views on love

Sparks - Faith and the Muse

Kind of my go to love song? There is a reverence and a hesitance in this song that really speaks to me. Love is scary, but it’s alive and well.

14. A song to sing to the sun

I could have been cheeky and picked The Sun by Gothminister, but I won’t

Honestly, I’m not sure how to read this, so take something that is definitely a daytime tune with Song 2 - Blur

Not a “sun” song, but I always associate it with the kind of sports I like and that as close as I can get.

15. A song you like that sounds like its on the soundtrack to an indie coming of age film

Volcanic Jig - Natalie MacMaster

Feels like the kind of light, bouncy stuff they would play in an opening scene to me.

16. A song that you like that romanticises being a teenager

Electricity - Red City Radio

At least part of it. It has a growing up with someone you like kind of feel to it and part of that would have to be being a teen. Beyond that, evidently nothing I listen to matches this either.

17. A song that makes you want to grab your friends jump up and down dancing and screaming the lyrics

Devil’s Dance Floor - Flogging Molly

Mostly because it’s just the song stuck in my head really bad, but that chorus, it sounds so fun to sing!!

18. A song that you like that the lyrics are just so beautiful they’re practically poetry

Oh I regret using Sparks already

Love You To Life - Grace Jones

Might as well be a poem really! Just take a listen and enjoy.

19. A song that you can imagine listening to in an abandoned church ( if it isn’t hozier im judging you, but whatever )

Listen to more artists

Sunday Morning - The Bolshoi

I would pick this one for a number of reasons - first off, it has a good sort of distant feeling to me that matches an abandoned place, second it has to deal with negative feelings with Christianity, which would match my mood best while standing in a church, abandoned or not.

20. A song from the soundtrack of a film that you like so much after the film finished you immediately looked for it

Warrior Falls -  Ludwig Göransson

Yes, it is a Marvel movie soundtrack, but consider - The drums in the Black Panther Soundtrack rock. Now to be honest, this is like one of the only movie soundtracks I have saved. If we went video game, then god it might have to be

Assassin’s Creed IV Black Flag Main Theme - Brian Tyler

AC soundtracks in general tend to fucking rock, but this theme is so powerful every time I hear it, I’m fuckin ready to be a pirate.

21. A song for when the sun has gone down and you are feeling absolutely buck-wild with exhilaration!

Augen Auf - Oomph!

I have so many songs that work for this. This is normally when I listen to music so I have many Manic Energy Songs. 

22. A song that makes you feel like you’re strolling through Ancient Greece living your best life

Very specific indeed, but perhaps Antvmnos - Eluveite ?

Tell me it wouldn’t be perfect to stroll a Greek shoreline with.

23. A song that when you listen to it you’re transported to a liminal space, time is pointless and you must sit and wallow in the void that remains

Black Car - Beach House

I listen to this song and my mind is instantly somewhere indescribable and unknowable and all I can do is listen, relax, and go through it. It’s very pleasant to me.

24. A song to listen to on a long drive when you have the really strong urge to keep driving until you find somewhere to start a new life (preferably a europian city whose language you don’t speak)

Perhaps not that exactly, but a song that makes me want to be a weary traveler seeing sights most can only dream of is Far Horizons - Jeremy Soule

[zeta-is-writing]

Show and Tell: Week Two

Sooo, I was tagged for this week by @thewriteblrarchives​, so I’m going to share a few excerpts from my NaNoWriMo project with you guys! All the excerpts contain one or more of these words:

No | Why | Don’t | Journey | Ridiculous | Yes | Good | Bad | Try | Attempt | Terrible | Idea | Sad | Happy | Feel | Hurt | Blood/bleeding | Stop | Excited | Heart | Hit | Road | Hide | Door | Careful

Since I’m writing in German, I looked for german words with the same meaning and made a quick translation to English, containing the words from the list above. I hope that’s fine too.

Also it’s a bit more than 3, because I couldn’t decide, lol.

Irie lächelte traurig, während sie sich wieder in Bewegung setzte. Tara wäre sicher eine gute Freundin gewesen, wenn Irie selbst nicht so absolut widerlich zu ihr gewesen wäre. Das hatte Tara nicht verdient. Tara hatte etwas Besseres verdient als das.

Irie wore a sad smile, as she moved on. Tara surely would have been a good friend, if Irie herself hadn‘t been so nasty. Tara didn‘t deserve this. Tara deserved something better than that.

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Die Priesterin spürte, dass das Herz in ihrer Brust raste. Als sie zum letzten Stoß hatte ansetzen wollen, hatte sie gezögert. Zu grausam war es ihr erschienen, mitansehen zu müssen, wie sie ihn erlegte. Und ihr Zögern hatte ihrem Feind einen Moment gegeben, um sich zu erholen und ihr erneut auf die Pelle zu rücken.

The priestess‘ heart pounded in her chest. When she tried to land the final blow, she hesitated at the very last moment. She had deemed it too terrible, watching herself take down an enemy. Ultimately it had been her hesitation, which allowed her opponent to catch his breath and close the gap between them again.

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Irie biss die Zähne zusammen. Es war nicht schön. Sie hatte nie das Bedürfnis gehabt, irgendwem weh zu tun. Soweit sie zurückdenken konnte, hatte sie immer versucht das zu tun, was andere glücklich gemacht hatte. Aber nicht immer war das auch machbar gewesen oder hatte sich am Ende auch gelohnt. Eigentlich sollte sie sich glücklich schätzen, dass sie nur Monster verletzen musste.

Irie gritted her teeth. It was an ugly situation. She never wanted to hurt anyone. As far as she could remember, she always tried to do what made others happy. But not always had it proven to be feasible, nor worthwile. Actually she should consider herself happy, it was only a monster she had to hurt.

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Eigentlich machte es sie glücklich zu wissen, dass Forest sie für einen wertvollen Bestandteil dieser kleinen Reise hielt. Offenbar wichtig genug, dass es für ihn zusätzlichen Aufwand bedeutete, wenn sie ausgeschaltet war. Woher er diese Ansicht wohl nahm?

In fact, it made her happy knowing, Forest considered her a valuable asset on this little journey. Apparently even valuable enough for it to be bothersome for him, if she were out cold. Where could this oppinion stem from?

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Sie wirkte traurig. Warum dieses ausdruckslose Gesicht? Warum hatte sie ihren Kopf gesenkt und schien ins Leere zu starren? Warum all die Wunden und Schnitte an ihrem Körper? Warum wirkte sie so… geschunden, erschöpft und… schwach? She looked sad. Why the blank impression? Why did she have her head lowered and stared into space? Why all the cuts and  bruises all over her body? Why did she appear to be so… flayed, tired and… weak?

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

Forest schwieg, schloss die Augen und atmete dann tief aus. „Du willst also weitermachen?“ „Ja.“ „Warum?“ „Weil es mein Traum ist, eine Priesterin zu werden und der Welt meinen Nutzen zu beweisen“, antwortete Irie. „Wenn ich das tun kann, indem ich diese Welt nicht aufgebe, sondern verbessere, dann wähle ich diesen Weg. Es gibt kein anderes Leben mehr, zu dem ich zurück kann. Das ist jetzt mein Leben. Das war die Entscheidung, die ich getroffen haben, auch wenn ich sie Tag für Tag bereue.“

Forest remained silent, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. „So, you want to keep going?“ „Yes.“ „Why?“ „Because it‘s my dream, to become a priestess and prove my usefulness to the world“, Irie replied. „If I‘m able to do that, by not giving up on this world, but to make a difference instead, then I‘ll choose this path. There is no other life I can return to. This is my life now. This is the decision I made, even though I regret it every single day.“

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„Aber was, wenn sich nun mehrere Schwache, die alle keinen Anschluss finden, sich zusammentun?“ „Tja, was würde dann wohl passieren?“ Forest stützte seinen Kopf auf das Handgelenk. „Irgendeine Idee?“ „Sie könnten zusammen stärker werden?“ „Das ist ein ziemlich naiver Gedanke, oder?“

„But what if a lot of weaklings, all on their own, band together?“ „Well, what might happen, I wonder?“ Forest leaned his head on his wrist. „Any idea?“ „Together they‘re able to become stronger?“ „A pretty naive thought, don‘t you think?“

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

Finally there are also some questions I have to answer!

1. Have you had any Eureka moments?

Uhhh… kinda? I had the Eureka moments during planning, when the structure of the story began to make sense. I usually want to move big obstacles out of the way before writing, while closing minor plot holes as I go on. Also, there‘s this dialogue between Irie and Forest in Chapter 10 (has some excerpts from it above) and I‘m really proud of it, because I think, it does a pretty good job already at explaining both their goals, as well as the issues with society as a whole.

2. On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is what you have in store for your characters? Have they already experienced some of it? How are they feeling?

I‘d say, somewhere between 7 and 8 for Irie. Being broke and homeless isn‘t exactly nice, also there’s her constant feeling of insecurity and fatique. Tara is a straight up 9, for reasons I still need to explain later on. Forest is somewhere around 6. He just got his ass kicked, but he‘s „fine“ for now. I‘ll make things worse for him soon enough. I‘m aiming for a 10 for all of them, but I need to step up my game for that, lol.

3. If you could ask your characters what they were looking forward to, or what they thought of their situation, what would they say?

„I just… think it would be nice, to have a little more money, you know. Not because there‘s anything in particular I need right now, but just enough, so I can feel… save.“ - Irie

„I wonder, if there‘s a purpose in wanting to change something. I kinda want to find out. Maybe Irie has a point afterall.“ - Forest

„It‘s odd. I‘m with four other adventurers, but I still feel so alone. Like they don‘t even want me to be a part of their group.“ - Tara

Thanks for tagging me! ^-^ This was a lot of fun to do!

[the-uptake]

Abdications of Flesh

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 1. Chapter 2 MIA; go to next available chapter.

TW: Drug culture, police brutality, dysmorphia

Disconnection became the peristaltic pulse of Tri-City in the wake of the permanent quarantine. The ghosts of the Stalkers’ Quarter reached out and up from the imposing hundred-yard walls which confined it, a glaring neon Wolfram concrete warning to anyone who might wonder what might lay within an entryless barrier. In mere months, the supersaturation of public guilt left citizens complacent to a shared commiseration that it had to be done, that there was no other way; and in the wake of dispassionate transgressions, came a vast and opportunistic multitude of nepenthe. City laws evolved rapidly to meet the needs–and demands–of the masses. Everyone nursed their own personal set of vices. 24-hour liquor stores and bars bloomed up overnight, and over time other more creative maladaptive indulgences became equally commonplace.

Suddenly, more than any other point in the history of their lives, everyone wanted to be anyone but themselves. Industry could adapt. Industry could provide.

‘Choly and Cecil walked down a Level 12 street in the commercial district, the smooth and simplistic concrete facades along the entire strip swathed in advertisements projected upon their every surface. Romantic strands of Valentine’s Day decor still lingered in places. ‘Choly wore a salmon dress shirt under an oversize mint green sweater with black pants and mint green creepers, with large green gauge tunnels and his bangtails loose to either side of his bespectacled face. Cecil seemed to have tried to coordinate this, with a pale pink button-up shirt and dark grey pants both with cuffs rolled, thin black suspenders, and two-tone oxford boots.

“It’s not too dissimilar to our great city’s thriving cannabinoid market.” ‘Choly’s cane gait punctuated his wry lyric. “There’s fewer and fewer plants every day, but I guess agriculture knows the ones that’re most important to hold onto.”

“It’s not really a plant, though.” Cecil was the first to catch sight of where they were headed, and went ahead a bit to get to the neon pink door first. “It’s more of a fungus, I think. Made from fungus, anyway?”

“From what I hear…” ‘Choly came along far more slowly, and only continued once he’d closed the distance between him and his boyfriend. “…From what I hear, it’s made from a lot of things. Augen tells me this might just be what breaks the ban on Vekarix, that nobody will admit that’s what made Confec possible. The designer drug market is havin’ a hey day over genetically engineering hybrid magic mushrooms an’ shit. Swear, next thing we’ll hear, they’ll have put every known psychoactive living thing together in one organism, an’ we’ll be begging to take turns licking it.”

“Maybe they’ll finally come around to letting people continue splicing legally.” Cecil shot him a sarcastic grin as he held the door to a shop open for him. “If he’s right about the Vekarix, we might eventually see more and more diverse hybrids.”

‘Choly sniffed and side-eyed him as he stepped inside the small shop.

“People are… bound to do a lot of things in this desperate climate, whether or not it’s legal. Legality dilutes innovation, but definitely makes it easier access.”

Three other customers browsed as the pair entered. Glass display counters ran the entire track of the long narrow space, filled with racks of colorful shapes in a presentation not unlike a pastry shop. The wolf hybrid shopkeeper had her long electric blue hair pulled back over the crown of her head and braided tight. Her claws matched, and she wore a wide-strapped and very low-cut tailored white jumpsuit. ‘Choly barely kept himself from making comment on the coincidence.

“They make me think of chocolates.” ‘Choly stooped a bit just to admire the molded things. Many of the ones in that particular case had been marbled with several colors in one. He caught sight of the price tags and his face drooped.

“It’s more like soap, if you want to be honest.” The shopkeeper approached them and ran a paw over her hair. The door buzzed shut again, and suddenly it was just the three of them. “I take it you gentlemen are gloss virgins? You’ve made a great choice to pop in here for your first time. We grow and refine our product ourselves. Everything on display is hand crafted.”

Stiffly, Cecil put his hands in his pockets and tried not to make eye contact.

“With neither of us really having experience with it, can you… recommend anything?”

“Well, if you’re just looking for glossy, the best place to start is one of our truffles. They’re not too bitter, and the high is pretty mellow and smooth-transitioning.” She gestured to the case with trays of milky white spheres, then next to it at the case ‘Choly had been eyeing, filled with little rainbow colored cube shapes. “And bonbons have a sharper flavor, but they take faster.”

‘Choly hemmed a bit.

“…An’ what about the hardest thing you’ve got?”

She held a breath against the roof of her mouth and let it out of her snout with a grin. She motioned for them to follow her to the back counter, where she rounded it to lean her elbows on it.

“Of course, we have more potent preps, too. You’re in luck to come in now, really. We just got in some new stuff, if you want to be cutting edge with your first time.” She pointed down to the finger-size amber screw-top ampules lined up to one side of the display. “Distilled Confec. The confectioner calls it resin, and I can say from personal experience you won’t regret it. It’s a composite-gloss, a cultivar custom-crafted by him.” She winked at Cecil, who swallowed hard and stood straighter. “My ears piqued when you mentioned Vek on your way in. Confec is great and all, but resin? It’s absolutely a food of the gods. The hardest entheogen I’ve ever had, and believe me when I call myself a connoisseur from personal experience.”

‘Choly eyed the counter, then looked up to the shopkeep.

“How much?”

“One vial’s forty-five. About twenty hits. It’s potent stuff. Only takes a drop or two, really.” She sneer-flinched and laughed. “Recommend the trope take for it, soaking it into a sugar cube. It’s real bitter.”

“You sure you need it?” Quietly, Cecil chewed at his spider bites. “As opposed to the Confec, I mean? We came here to get a handle on your anxiety, not go crazy.”

When Cecil continued to skirt the shopkeeper’s attempts at eye contact, she crossed her arms at him.

“Resin’s totally safe, if that’s your worry. But anxiety, though? If that’s what you’re here for, you’re more likely gonna want burfee. It’s got a veneer more than a gloss.” She pointed to the counter to their right, full of chalky pastel balls. “Cultivar’s got borrowed cannabis sequences. Takes the edge off everything, without inducing a full trip.”

“We can start with Confec,” ‘Choly resigned, gaze tracing the items in that case. “I was expecting a high price tag, but the resin’s a bit rich for my ah,” he leaned in nearer, “my Level Zero upbringing, if you get my meaning.”

After a moment she also leaned in even closer, and barked a laugh.

“I understand now why you need a little escapism, dreg. You got moxie keepin’ the ‘do. I know just looking at him that he’s not, though, so what’s his story? He weird around all hybrids? I’ve been tagged and documented, as if it matters.”

“You’ve got extraction scars.” Cecil tried his best not to fluster as he pointed tersely at his own ear for emphasis, keeping to a near-whisper. “Tagged, past tense. Talk about moxie.”

Her shoulders froze up when he called her out on it.

“Hum, I didn’t notice,” ‘Choly commented in a thoughtful detachment. His head tilted askew as he inspected the wolf girl’s right ear. Near the lower base, it crumpled in on itself a bit. “No wonder he’s crushing on you.”

“Tch!” Cecil removed his glasses and rubbed at his face.

“He likes hybrids,” ‘Choly continued, enjoying embarrassing him. “We both think you’re pretty cute, any rate.”

“Oh really now?” Her ears piqued and her eyelids drooped.

“…Very,” Cecil admitted. He put his glasses back on and fished out his wallet, stuffing down his social misery. “How much is the, uh, the burfee?”

“It’s twenty-five for half a dozen of one cultivar, but we’ve got a special this month, for a variety half-dozen for nineteen. Since you’re having trouble making up your minds, perhaps a sampler would help you feel out what’s up your alley. And…” She held a lyric to her tone when the pair of them looked in agreement finally. “I suppose I could toss in an amp of Resin if you give me a kiss on the cheek.”

The flush that washed across Cecil’s face lit up every faint freckle in a constellation of awkwardness, and he smirked before leaning across the counter and complying. He sneaked a brief rub of her cauliflower ear while he was at it, then pulled back to admire her, still holding out a cred. She blepped pleasantly at him as she took the cred to run it on the register screen.

“I totally didn’t think he’d do it,” ‘Choly mumbled, trying not to laugh.

“Me either.” She handed the cred back and lolled her pierced tongue in full at Cecil. “You’re not, like, a hybrid chaser or something, are you? Most normies can’t tell that my ear’s not just, like, a piercing deformity.” Her muzzle slacked. “Sorry, that was in poor taste of me. I forget some people went through with the therapy.”

Cecil’s only response, after a pause, was to wink at her. She shuffled over to unlock the display case and prepare the small cardstock box with what they’d purchased.

“Name’s Dee, by the way.” She popped the earned trinket in the corner of the box and twined it up, then handed the parcel to Cecil. “Maybe you’ll come see me again sometime.”

“Cecil. Dee, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Seconded,” ‘Choly chirped. His awkward flashing of a rigid, short hand wave and interjection of his own name got a chuckle from Dee.

“Hope it’s the escape you came in for.”

Once the two had exited the confectionery shop, Cecil continued carrying the purchase.

“Why’d you technically lie to Dee, anyway?” ‘Choly smiled at his boyfriend. “You never had any work done to have reversed.”

“Chalk it up to the stress of being ribbed over thinking she had spunk.”

The dreg choke-laughed at this, and ran a few free fingers over Cecil’s hand, eliciting a sly withdrawn smile.

They stopped briefly at a corner store for cheap premade coffee, and ‘Choly held the box while Cecil filled up two cups and paid for them. The dreg plopped down the Confec on the counter of the cramped coffee area of the establishment and took the weight off his legs for a spell against the wall, then pulled out his reader to burn a couple of minutes. He decided to snap a nondescript, contextualized pic of his acquisition and send it to Augen; even though the vampire’s availability was dimmed, he’d see the message later.

ketherphorbia sent a file SDC43011_100-5102.JPG.

ketherphorbia: mission successful

9augen is typing…

ketherphorbia: oh, hi

ketherphorbia: i’ve got good timing. didn’t think you’d be on

9augen has stopped typing.

9augen: please tell me youll be home soon. no one else is responding

ketherphorbia: need to talk?

9augen: its. sensitive. youll be home soon right

ketherphorbia: yeah, the confectioner’s we went to’s only one level up. is five minutes ok?

9augen: Yeah.

“Telling him about our adventure?”

Cecil returned and offered one of the syrofoam cups, and ‘Choly traded him the box for it, so that Cecil carried the Confec and one coffee, and ‘Choly carried the other with his free hand.

“I was about to. He’s being vague. In an urgent way. It bugs me.”

“I’m sure he just wants to trade juicies. Come on, let’s get going.”

The two each waved their public transit passes as they entered the toll lift, and cuddled against the back wall on the way one level down. Although this one cost a third-cred per level to ride one way, the nearest free lift was five blocks further away, and this toll lift let out on the same block as their housing complex. They exited and rounded the corner right into the lobby of the complex, and took the building elevator three floors to their apartment. While Cecil got the door, ‘Choly’s reader began to vibrate from receiving a vid chat, and he nearly dropped his coffee fumbling to double check that it was coming from the expected caller.

“You’re so slaggin’ impatient,” ‘Choly whined as he accepted with hesitation.

The screen was black, but he could hear labored breathing. Once inside their apartment, ‘Choly squinted at the display of his reader to see it indicated ‘no video’ and he sighed with an eye roll, suspecting that his friend had something ridiculous to reveal.

“Sorry,” the other end mustered, strangled and adenoidal. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now, ‘Choly.”

The foreign quality of the voice got the dreg’s attention immediately, and with a knitted brow, he quickly toed out of his creepers at the door and took his coffee to the daybed-couch in the back end of the apartment. The confec went to the side table beside the coffee on its coaster. Cecil watched ‘Choly trying to get comfortable, and offered a bold, blocky quilt and a knee-pat, but he wasn’t sure if he was invited to the call, so he took to the front end of the apartment to the confines of his book-nook, assuming he’d be fetched to join in if they so desired it. Either way, he’d hear about it later.

“You certainly don’t sound like yourself.” ‘Choly cleared his throat, hair on end. “What’d you get into, anyway?”

A long, labored pause lingered when the caller couldn’t form the words.

“…Augen…?”

“My coven got hit. They’re doing therapy raids now. Fucking Open Carry Manifesto! Fuck, it hurts so bad to talk. Can’t hardly see straight.” It took ‘Choly a while to understand what Augen had described, and a hand went to the dreg’s mouth as he stared at the blank screen. “You heard about the OCM, right. I’m not just a rambling lunatic right now?”

“I heard it was just civilian access to tranq, ‘cause Levelers are scared of the hybrids that kept their grafting. But fuck, Augen! Are you suggesting there’s a paramilitary force using it to force therapy serum? Since when did the government have the right!” He whipped off his glasses, nearly crying as everything set in. “–Oh fuck. Fuck. Are you all right? Of course you’re not all right. Fuck. –Where are you? Do we need to come get–”

“Shhhhhh. Take it down about fifteen notches. My head’s a thunderstorm right now. …One question at a time, maybe. Ugh. …First, no, the government doesn’t have the right. Best I can understand, this is a splinter of police, or army nuts, overstepping laws for sake of upholding moral code. They screamed out something like cleaning out a murderer’s den before they just unloaded on us.”

‘Choly was unaccustomed to hearing his friend talk this much at once, and the context as to why a fish had the breath to do so had his head reeling.

“But you got away, right? You’re not still at the, the coven?”

“I got away, yeah. Christ, this fucking sucks. They overdosed us on that shit, I guarantee you. Therapy’s supposed to be incremental–sessions–not abrupt like… THIS! Where’d they get that much serum? Must have a therapy physician in on their group. Sheisse. I’m the only one who’s got a possibility of springing back from this… Good chance the shock just killed a few of us outright. Grafting’s so goddamn expensive, even just solo-sequence jobs. Getting the procedure that gave people their real identities, for a lot of them it was their life savings. …Or someone else’s.”

‘Choly set down his glasses and his cataracted eyes zoned out into the blackness of the vid screen. He’d never seen his friend’s face before the grafting, and his curiosity went haywire. Briefly, he barely kept himself from asking aloud for Augen to show him what he looked like. 'Choly wondered if Augen would ever be comfortable enough to meet in person ever again. But, he trusted ‘Choly enough to voice call him like this, and he’d never done that before his grafting, either. The dreg laid down on the couch on his side, and pulled the quilt over himself.

“What I want to know is how they found where you guys were lying low. It’s not like you were being tasteless about it and lurking a geek bar or some shit. Vampires, your kind’s not stupid. …Wait, what do you mean, or someone else’s?”

“I fell off the grid after my grafting for a lot of reasons. Linnaeus’s circle works a lot like a cult. They scout for vulnerable people. People already ideologically charged and unlikely to have a change of faith even when tested. And those who either have lots of money, or have access to lots of money. Most of my coven fit that bill three-for-three, to be realistic. They were… most supportive of getting the money through whatever means possible. I sold my car. Sold pretty much everything. But it wasn’t enough. I knew how to get into my parents’ retirement savings, and I knew that money would only go to waste perpetuating their uninspired, horridly humanesque lives. And I knew they’d have nothing to do with me, the real me, so there was only one real resolution to that moral conflict. …If I got caught like this, where I’m recognizable for what I was before I was myself… I don’t think I’d do well in jail. And that’s just for the theft, what can be accounted to my birth name…”

“You… you said it was an overdose of serum,” ‘Choly reached, desperate to find something that might lift his friend’s spirits. “And you said there’s a chance you’ll spring back? You’re talking about your marine graft, right?”

A pleasant breath was all he heard for a while.

“I’d say it feels like reckless optimism to grapple onto what it is at its core, but Vek is a metagen by definition. Therapy serum is basically a human-DNA graft job, an attempt to flush out the animal grafts. They told me during my follow-up sessions that subsequent grafting jobs would never stick, thanks to the tunicate graft, and not to waste my cred. I was just rambling when I said it, but maybe you’re right. Maybe the tunicate will recognize the… virus, and kick it for me. I’d get to experience becoming myself all over again. …Thanks. Sometimes, you know just what to say. At the very least, if gives me something pleasant to focus on while this shit wears off.”

“Can I… Can I ask a bad question?” ‘Choly’s words strangled himself.

“Yes, my reader is working fine. Yes, I have vid off on purpose. No, I haven’t had the nerve to do front-facing camera yet, and there’s not a mirror here. If the answer wasn’t one of these, then what were you going to ask me? Otherwise, you know the answer.”

‘Choly swallowed and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Where are you?”

Augen wasn’t sure he’d heard him right and laughed like broken silver.

“I’m not even wholly sure how to tell you where it is. It used to be an automotive repair, going off what’s left in here, and off what it smells like. I think… it specialized in cars from back when it was all by tread. If th– When things go back to normal, I’m inclined to feel out how secure it is. It strikes me as a good place to make more… permanent than just hiding in.”

“It’ll more than go back to normal,” ‘Choly grinned. “I guarantee it.”

“I just remembered, you sent me a pic of your prize earlier. My moment of weakness has kept you from indulging. You’ve got the right idea, honestly. I’m lucky. I picked up an amp of Resin last night, and I was five minutes from taking a hit before… everything happened. It’s, like, hyper-Confec. I’ll have to let you try some next time we get together. But for now, this amp’s all for me. I… I think I can end call finally. I just can’t be… this right now.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Enjoy your evening, bug dick.”

“You, too, stinkface. I’ll have my phone near me if you need me, all right?”

The screen flickered a moment before Augen’s face came into focus in a strange fluorescent amber lighting that didn’t match the ambient glow of Wolfram concrete interiors. ‘Choly wasn’t sure what he expected of his friend’s human features, but the juxtaposition of how his long, dark, stringy mess of hair framed his angular, slim pierced features only magnified the haunted sense of atrophy about him, crestfallen yet still forcing a tired smile. Ostensibly, a massive part of his identity had wasted away that day. Augen could tell ‘Choly had tried to take a screencap and ended the call.

9augen: may this vid call be the last you ever see of this pathetic asshole

‘Choly sent him a mushroom emoticon and set down his reader on the arm of the couch with a dopey, self-conscious smile. Augen had been gorgeous even before undergoing the grafting procedure that transfigured him, though the dreg knew better than to ever share such a sentiment. He sat up and glanced over to the box on the side table, seeking vicariousness even in his friend’s vulnerability, and pulled it into his lap. He’d be fine. And Augen would be fine.

But first, some time needed to pass, and the last thing he wanted was to be present for it.

Go to Next Available Chapter »»»

[womenintranslation]

Interviewing the Editors #2: Karen Nölle, Editor, Translator, and Co-publisher of edition fünf

At a recent gathering at New York’s Goethe-Institut WiT caught up again with publisher, editor, and translator Karen Nölle on one of her occasional trips from Germany to the US, this time to co-lead a ViceVersa translation workshop with Shelley Frisch at Ledig House in Ghent, New York. Karen told us more about the press she co-founded, edition fünf, which devotes itself to literature by women, both in German and in translation, and whose mission, as she explains below, is to create “a chest full of women’s narrative traditions that we would all get excited about, and argue about and discuss and pass on to others.” Karen’s commitment to women’s writing has also led her to translate into German such essential women’s voices as Doris Lessing, Janet Frame, Eudora Welty, Annie Dillard, Alice Munro, and Ursula K. LeGuin, among others. With so much to talk about but with a train for Karen to catch, we agreed to keep talking via email about edition fünf and about its against-the-grain mission to focus on women writers. Our conversation follows below.

—Margaret Carson

Edition fünf's first twenty-five: bound in red linen, with bound ribbon bookmark and illustrated belly band. All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

Could you talk about how edition fünf got its start?

Edition fünf was founded in 2009 by Silke Weniger, a literary agent in Gräfelfing, near Munich. She and I had known each other for some time, and as we are both interested in women’s narrative traditions, that is what we talked about when I came to Munich in the spring of that year. Somehow our conversation moved to all the books we missed on the market. Silke was out for an adventure; I was looking for possibilities to use the time I spent working in ways that made sense to me. A few days after my visit, Silke called, and there we were, thinking about founding a small press and how to go about it. Eight years later I can say, she has found adventure on many levels, and I get to focus on books that I love and to produce them as well as I am—we are—able.

What inspired you?

There were at least two things: The idea to publish books our way, without concern for the conventions of mainstream publishing. We wanted to do “slow books,” produced at our speed, with a shelf life of more than the usual number of days—in Germany many new publications disappear from the shops after just 90 days (or even less)—and with time to find their readers. That was a dream, of course; we make all sorts of compromises. We would have to sell many more books to get them really well known, but the original idea still keeps us going and enthusiastic.

And, probably even more animating, the project itself—to publish the books we missed on the market and to go look for more books and authors and create a chest full of women’s narrative traditions that we would all get excited about, and argue about and discuss and pass on to others, because it is so vital to learn more about how women think, live, suffer, overcome, create art—and what they/we might want beyond the strange society we happen to be born into. Another dream, much too large for what we can do. But parts of it still keep us going.

Cover of the German edition of Anne Garréta's Sphinx. All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

What is your background in publishing?

I left academia when I was 35, to become a freelance translator. My first translation was Telling Tales by Sarah Maitland. Editors interested in what women writers were up to in the eighties noticed that I had a feel for (and knowledge of) the new contents, so for a while I was asked to translate mainly women: Audre Lorde, Eva Figes, Alice Walker. When I realized that I liked working with “serious” literature, I took up editing translations, too. And I was on the editorial board of the feminist press Frauenoffensive for some years. With them I traveled to the international feminist book fairs. Meanwhile I translated books by Alice Munro, Barbara Trapido, Annie Dillard, and many less well known authors. In the ’90s I started leading workshops for translators, editors, writers. But edition fünf is my first “job” as a publisher per se.

Why did you decide to focus on women writers?

Silke and I have been feminists forever. Our main interest was never in politics, though, but more in culture at large. We long to hear women’s voices, to feel their influence throughout society; we get inspired by the way women tell stories, it informs our perspective on the world and what happens in it. The stories, the ways of seeing, the experiments with language and literary forms speak to our experience, influence our thinking. Help us find foundations to build on.

It has always surprised me when writers, translators, editors claim to be indifferent to the gender of those that influence them artistically. In teaching, I had noticed that many of the books by women writers which I thought should be available as nourishment for those interested in developing their ideas on the basis of what their forebears had been up to, were not on the German market, having either been there and disappeared or never having been published at all.

Our idea was to create a space—a kind of library, perhaps—that would make these books available and spread interest in their contribution to the world of art. There were so many of them, we wanted to make them visible . . .

Cover of Ein Haus mit vielen Zimmern, an anthology of women writers on wiriting, made up of stories, essays, and poems, edited by Sophia Jungmann and Karen Nölle. All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

What is the gender gap in publishing in Germany like?

We have a lot of women in publishing, many many in the types of jobs that were outsourced from the 1990s on: freelance editors, proofreaders etc., a lot working as illustrators and translators (women make up around 80% of the translators here—with more than half the prizes going to men . . . ). As you go up the career ladder, the percentage of women gets smaller, although, in recent years, more women have risen to top positions.

What kinds of books by women are you attracted to as a publisher?

We look for books we find inspiring, for special narrative techniques, ideas . . . ways of telling stories, perspectives on life and art. We admire inventiveness that relates to experience, not so much l’art pour l’art.

Karen’s favorite page in Ein Haus mit vielen Zimmern, the first page of Sylvia Plath’s “A Comparison,” on the difference between writing poetry and novels. All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

How do translations fit into your editorial vision?

We publish in Germany, and German publishers tend to publish a lot of translations. Several thousand from English alone. So we, too, are open to translating books we miss on the market. There are plenty of those to discover. When we started out, we were interested in re-publishing books by women we thought should be part of the culture, but were forgotten. Authors who wrote in German tend to be available (you can be all but forgotten when a publisher still has the rights, but does nothing to promote your work), so we focused less on those. That might be changing. We’re working on it. But we do translate a lot and attach a lot of importance to the quality of the translation and the editing. So far, there are books from English, Finnish, Dutch, French, Italian, and Portuguese in our catalog.

You've published German translations of Joyce Johnson's memoir of her Beat years, Minor Characters, and Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God. Johnson's memoir is all but unknown in the US, and Hurston's essential work was out of print and forgotten until Alice Walker discovered her in the 1970s. What led you to these books?

Joyce Johnson’s Minor Characters is simply a great book, about young women in the 1950s trying to become beat poets of a sort. Johnson has such a loving view of the way she was, when she was young . . . I suppose what I like in literature is a love of life and human beings (and nature and . . . and . . . ). The writers on our list tend to be able to hold on to it under the most taxing circumstances, and to be fully human and smart and analytic and artistic in the way they express that. All this, of course, is true of Zora Neale Hurston in her masterpiece. I’ve loved Their Eyes Were Watching God since I was in my twenties. What pleasure to be able to bring it out in a new translation!

Cover of German edition of Zora Neale Hurston's Vor ihren Augen sahen sie Gott (Their Eyes Were Watching God). All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

Who reads edition fünf books?

Not enough people to make us rich. We publish hard covers, the books can’t compete on a mass-market level, but we have a small and growing group of followers. Mainly women, well educated, not afraid of reading things that need a bit of concentration, interested in women’s writing. Many of our books sell slowly, but continuously over the years. People learn about them by word of mouth.

edition fünf books are extremely beautiful objects. The book jackets and their spectrum of bright colors are especially striking. Can you talk about what goes into their design and into the cover art?

The designer who does all the art work for our books on the outside and the inside is Kathleen Bernsdorf. Kathleen lives in Berlin, we discuss the contents of each book with her in detail, and she comes up with the ideas both for the cover and the typesetting. Of course, we provide only a small portion of the work she does, but she enjoys the freedom in working with us. The first 25 books were all bound in red linen, to underline our idea that we were creating a sort of library. Since book 26, we have become much more colorful and inventive. For me, it is one of the treats in my job, to have a hand in creating the whole product, not just the words.

What else can you tell us about yourself? What are you working on now?

Right now, I’ve begun a new translation of Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea books, and will be doing the first three volumes.

At edition fünf we’re publishing Laurence Tardieu’s A la fin le silence this fall, a novel about the acts of terrorism in France in 2015 and how acts like these affect the emotional lives of the people in the country. A very personal perspective in attempting to find words for what is going on.

Shelley (Frisch)’s and my ViceVersa workshop for translators of English to German and German to English is part of a larger project for many language pairs, organized by Deutscher Übersetzerfonds and funded by the Robert Bosch Foundation. We do practical work on the texts the participants are translating, and through the direct exchange not only learn about how differently the two languages work and what characterizes their literatures, but also about translation and translationese in general, while of course striving to avoid the latter . . .

In Germany I also do other workshops on translation and editing—my most regular one being one I found my own format for: working on texts with translators, editors and authors on the island of Sylt in the very north of Germany and combining the work on the texts with exercise—this year with Tai Chi.

Cover of German edition of Joyce Johnson's Zaunköniginnen (Minor Characters). All design elements by Kathleen Bernsdorf.

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Rammstein Family Game: Get to know me!

created by: @vapor-stein | tagged by @tinnike, @notafraidofredyellowandblue and @mcrmadness (Thank you guys :))

 1. I’m curious: when did you discover Rammstein? 2001 with ‚Ich will’

2. Tell me your story. How did you discover them? There was some kind of TV show, where they introduced the charts and showed the video of ‚Ich will’. And I was scared shitless.

 It was not only my first Rammstein song, but also my first introduction to any kind of „harder music“ at all. I grew up in a houshold where we didn’t have any musicchannels and my parents didn’t listen to music at all, so the only contact to music I had was radio in the car every now and then.  And suddenly there was ‚Ich will’ I didn’t even remember if I liked it, it just was something I’ve never heard before. So loud, so much energy

 And then there was Till’s specific style of singing, which reminded me on … someone else, which scared me again. For people who don’t speak German this may sound weird, but the way Till pronounces the ‚R’ and the extreme harsh pronounciation, are not typical. German may be a harsh language already, but the way Till sings, accentuates this harshness even more. ( I think this style of singing is actually one of the main reasons why the band so often gets accused for being a Nazi-band in Germany, because the other well-known person using this specific style of pronounciation caused the second world war).

And then there was the video itself. It was so dark with this robbery theme and the way they looked with the mohawks - a style far far away from my well protected childhood. Plus I was too immature to understand the deeper message of the video at this point. So guess what, the video scared me as well.

 But somehow it got stuck in my head – probably because I’ve never heard or seen anything like this before and by chance I found it on a Mix CD I’ve actually got gifted with and listened to it very much, but didn’t bother to get their album at the time.

Funny enough, although my mother never listened to music before I got interested in music around 2004, she was the one who bought the ‚Rosenrot’ album and this was the one album where I actually started to like them.

 3. Favorite song? It changes, but if I have to choose, I’d pick ‚Spring’ from Rosenrot since its lyrics were the one reason which made me see the band in a different way. I love this description of how scary mass psychology works, because it surely is scary.

 4. Least favorite song? Come on. I know you have one. Bückstabü.

5. Favorite album? Herzeleid. And Mutter. And Rosenrot. (I am the worst when it come to make decisions about favourites)

  6. Least favorite album?  Reise Reise.

  7. Something that speaks to you in the deepest sense of the word: a lyric? A specific song?  Since @tinnike introduced me to the fact how interesing the pre Rammstein era is (thanks for this!), I kinda fell in love with ‚Radio’, because it’s such a true song regarding their DDR past

 I never realized before how much litereal meaning the word ‚Weltempfänger’ actually has (one to one translation: „world receiver“). Of course I’ve been aware of the word and its meaning, but the song caused like an epiphany of this word for me.  Also this picture they created with„Meine Ohren werden Augen“. Just wow.  

8. Unpopular opinion: about a member? A scandal? Anything? Not an unpopular opinion, I guess, but I hate the fact that they deactivated the comment section on YouTube. I live for reading YouTube comments. Why would you take this away from me? (Nah. I’m fine)

  9. Have you ever seen them live? Tell me what you felt. No I haven’t seen them live, since I never considererd myself as a big fan and I am not good with crowded places, so I only go to concerts, if I really like the band and now, that I would like to see them live, it’s nearly impossible to get tickets, because the minute they are online they are sold out already. So I am very thankful for the all the video material :) 

10. Do you play any instruments? If you do, can you play any song by them? I’ve actually learned keyboard for two years, but I never went any further than the basics, so no, I can’t play any songs of them.

  So, since I got tagged by the three people I would tag with this game, I am out of people to tag. So… uhm. Anyone who want to do this? Feel free :)

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10 German Phrases to Make You Sound Like a Local

When traveling to a new country, we often find ourselves holding a dictionary or a language guide that contains phrases that might not necessarily reflect the local lingo. This gives us away when we try to blend in with the local community and culture as we are regarded as tourists. In order to blend in, picking up a few phrases that are frequently used by the locals can be very handy.

Stand out from the crowd with these ten phrases that will make your German sound more like that of a local than a tourist.

1. Darf ich mal vorbei?

Many beginners of the

German language

think it’s proper to say ‘‘Entschuldigung’’ (sorry) when pushing through a crowd on the U-bahn or in a train station. However, you should actually say this phrase, which means “may I pass by?” A polite yet firm manner of making your way through the crowd.

2. Einen Augenblick, bitte!

Augen is eyes. Blick is a glimpse or a sight of something. Einen Augenblick is a moment. If you say ‘‘Einen Augenblick, bitte!’’ you’re asking someone to please wait a moment—a useful phrase when boarding a busy train or bus while visiting the country.

3. Kannst du/Können Sie mir helfen?

This phrase is extremely important for tourists in Germany as well as residents. It means “Can you (informal)/Can you (formal) help me?” Essential for asking for directions or any sort of assistance when needed. One of the most important phrases when traveling alone.

4. Schön, Sie kennenzulernen.

“Nice to get to know you,” or “pleased to meet you”—this phrase is essential for meeting and greeting new colleagues or friends. A key phrase that will enable you to strike up, even more, conversations in German and that too with the locals.

5. Alles Gute zum Geburtstag.

This phrase literally translates as “all that’s good to the birthday,” but of course it really means “happy birthday.”

6. Guten Appetit.

Before digging into their delicious varieties of frankfurters or their well-known Spatzel, Germans say Guten Appetit, an amalgamation of German (Guten means “good”) and French (bon appétit). It simply means enjoy your meal.

7. Stimmt so.

It’s a good habit to tip exceptional hosts and hostesses when they cater to you at restaurants or pubs. While it is not mandatory in Germany, tipping will often portray you as a considerate customer. Should your bill read 18 euros—you can hand your server a 20, then say Stimmt so, which means “keep the change.”

8. Der Zug ist schon abgefahren.

This phrase is roughly equivalent to the American expression, “that ship has sailed.” If a situation is irredeemable, or there’s nothing else you can do to change something, you would use this phrase. In German, it translates directly to “the/that train has already left.” Alternatively, it can be used if you actually miss your train from Frankfurt to Cologne.

9. Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund.

This phrase literally means “morning hours have gold in the mouth.” This is basically the German equivalent of “the early bird gets the worm”—a popular saying in English. It means one who wakes up early, gets out of bed and starts working early will be a lot more productive. A very wise advice in any language!

10. Hunde, die bellen, beißen nicht.

This Sprichwort (idiom) has an equivalent in English as well: “his bark is worse than his bite.” This means that people who make a big fuss about things or seem fearsome are often not so scary at all. The phrase in German translates directly to “dogs that bark, don’t bite.”