Ah yes, Tristamp's one (1) "filler" episode where we don't even take a breather but instead dives so deep into the show's themes of morality, humanity, and what defines mercy that you'll need a break after watching it

genuinely can’t understand character hate in a well-written show. I mean, I can understand here when the character is horribly written because that means they mess up the story, but. In a good show? What are you on about? You’re mad that they were an obstical to the hero’s journey? You’re mad that two character’s flaws interact in a way you don’t like? You’re mad about conflict? Dude. Dude that’s the whole point of a story. A journey without obstacles isn’t a journey anymore it’s just a walk down the road. A plot without conflict isn’t a story anymore it’s just some guy who doesn’t do anything.

"Stan favors Mabel and Ford Dipper" WRONG!!!

Re-reading the comics and I totally forgot how dark they are

really actually kind of enjoy how the big lore moments are sort of quiet on a singular stream (or a small group!) instead of the events solely being the lore; i think there would be this hesitation to develop anything solo if the server reinforced this idea that Big Lore could only happen during scheduled events and days. instead the more narrative-progressing moments (take the baghera hybrid experiments revelation or the philza birdnapping for recent example) are very low-key and almost unhyped up— there’s no expectation for that kind of lore necessarily at the time which makes it more rewarding to experience as a viewer. big fan of how they do the events as player bonding time rather than serious narrative progression because it allows all the players (especially the ones who don’t engage in the rp side that much) to participate and get to know each another more; it’s very neat it’s really smart it’s nicely executed

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

.

2024 reads / storygraph

Walking In Two Worlds & The Everlasting Road

YA sff set in the near future where an opensource augmented reality is commonly used like social media, and there’s also a completely virtual fantasy game version

follows an Anishinaabe girl who who’s the top player in the VR game, and is constantly fighting to keep her place against the misogynist neo-nazi group in second place

as well as her real life, dealing with being a shy and self-conscious teen growing up on the Rez, and her brother having cancer

and a Uyghur boy who’s moved to her community from China after finding acceptance in an online community (even when he doesn’t agree with their more extreme views) - but when he gets to know Bugz, he has to decide who truly deserves his loyalty

great mix of sff and culture, the future while also very real community traumas of the past (and present)

Five Pebbles, you should definitely try and contact this new iterator. You could try to find out what happened?

"I don't event have cloths, how embarrassing"

I keep thinking about how on earth they would canonize ggy bc like. at this point if they have to sacrifice Gregory screentime of just him to make something we already know actually canon, I would rather just take the screentime, but on the other hand they have to canonize it if they want to do anything at all with that plotline, and that makes me wonder if theyll stick with it as canon in the games at all or just leave it as background knowledge if u read the book 😭

do people mind spoilers for the ybo plot stuff bc i wrote out a whole inspo moodboard thingy

harlots season 3 is just as stupid and lifeless as everybody said but i'm glad nancy birch got to punch the most repulsive man in london and received a kiss from liv tyler for her troubles

So... I've started writing again.

Ended up fighting the group of ogres in the Blighted Village as well, because they asked if Rakha had "the brand of the Absolute," and Rakha didn't know what they meant, and so they decided to eat her.

This fight was also, uh, challenging. Rakha accidentally set off a spike growth under HERSELF while trying to use Burning Hands. I'm getting massive kick out of my wild magic surges but goddamn they complicate matters. :P

I'm tempted to once again put the warped headband of intellect on Rakha like I did on Hector, because she is definitely much smarter than her INT stat would reflect, but I also don't really WANT her INT stat to reflect anything because right now she biffs lots of history checks and such which is as it should be given her memory loss.

So I'm putting it on Lae'zel instead, who is ALSO way smarter than her INT stat would indicate, and I stick by this opinion fervently. Lae'zel is not the face of the party and almost never makes INT checks for anything, so this serves zero purpose other than my own personal roleplay satisfaction, but that's the important thing, really. :P

Plot???

Okay the whole Dark Enchantress thing is cleared up later at the ending cutscene, but still, when I saw this I was like “plot?? In the Fashion Week??”

holding pokemon bw/bw2 in my arms shaking and crying im sorry i didn't know how to appreciate everything you did when i was younger i promise to cherish the risks you took the gameplay elements you brought the story you told now that i know better