#I have plans for the worldbuilding and it's going to be epic
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Burned at the stake: Part 4
Masterlist
Part 3
One more part after this one. I'm so excited about this story, my goodness. Also, I have, like, four more vampire whump ideas and I can't stop thinking about them all and the worldbuilding for the world this all takes place in.
Content: Vampire whumpee, carewhumper turned just whumper, silver burns, toe and finger whump, dragged by the hair, talk of vampire trafficking, it as a pronoun, dehumanization
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"Kyle! Wait! I need you, I can't speak to it!"
“I won’t have any part in this, Joanna,” Kyle hissed, turning on her and using his extra inch to try and intimidate her. “You need to give him to someone who can take care of him! You can’t keep him here!”
She began to look uncomfortable, but she bared her own teeth right back. “No! The vampire was there for the first age! The first dynasty! Who knows what it could tell us! You know we don’t have much in the way of records from that time.”
“Oh for the love of-he was a Hippo hunter!? What do you want to know? How to kill a hippo?”
“It knows something! It knew who the kings were. Even the smallest details it thinks doesn’t matter could make all the difference! We could be-”
“Rich?” he snapped, shutting her up. “Joanna, you and I have been friends for a long time, and that’s why I’m giving you a chance here. Give him over to the authorities and leave him be. You’re no better than those stupid black market treasure hunters right now. He’s not dangerous and he shouldn’t be kept in your shed.”
He stared at her for a moment and she opened her mouth, still at a loss for words.
With that, Kyle left and Joanna let him. She stood in her yard, turning to stare at the shed. She could hear the vampire moving inside, presumably trying to escape. She went to the shed only to lock the door and then went into the house to plan her next move.
………………………
In the morning, Joanna woke up with a plan in mind. She hadn’t really been able to sleep as she turned the problem over, but everything seemed to resolve itself. She would just have to teach the Vampire english. It was a vampire, a creature of strange magic, so it should learn fast enough.
As for Kyle.
She dialed his number and she was unsurprisingly sent to voicemail. “Hey, Kyle,” she said in a docile tone. “Sorry about yesterday. You were right. I’m calling some people to take it-him. Anyways, I wanted to apologize. Maybe we should take a break while I sort this all out and I’ll talk to you in a couple of weeks, yeah? Kay. Bye.”
That should take care of it. She knew Kyle and he wouldn’t be eager to see her again until his temper cooled. This sort of thing had happened in the past and they were used to having to take breaks in their friendship when they had an argument. This one would probably be longer than the ones that they’d been through in the past, but that suited Joanna just fine. She had a vampire to occupy her time with.
………………………….
The woman was back. Esial had forgotten to ask Kyle what her name was and now he was too afraid to try and get her to tell him through pantomime. She stared at him for a long moment, before taking a slow breath. She bent down and pointed to something on the floor, saying a word in her strange language. She pointed to another object and made the same sound.
“Silveer,” Esial repeated. That was the metal that would hurt him, then. She nodded and pointed to another object, speaking another word for him to learn.
The entire hour was spent like that as she pointed at things and named them. He was wearing something called a towel, though it’s purpose must not be for clothing because none of the things she was wearing was called that. There was a shirt and pants and hair and eyes and coins and shed. That was the name of the room he was in. He wondered what its purpose was when it wasn’t used to keep ‘vampires’ trapped. She had called him that and he tried to correct her that his name was Esial but she repeated the word until he understood. She seemed a bit annoyed with him by the end and left soon enough. He repeated the words in his mind for the next few hours of loneliness. He had nothing to do and he didn’t want to annoy her. He hoped she would feed him soon. He was starving.
So, he practiced the words in his head hoping to get to the point where he would tell her what she wanted and beg her to let him go.
She kept coming back and teaching him words of her strange language and he couldn’t understand the rules. The words made no sense and a horrifying feeling began to creep over him as he realized he’d just have to memorize everything. She was growing more impatient with him every time she came out, and grew even more annoyed when she saw him scratching at the cuff around his ankle. He shivered on the table, fidgeting with the now fraying towel and tried to repeat everything, but she was going too fast and none of this made sense. She didn’t explain the meanings of all of these words and he still didn’t know what a towel was for.
At the end of another session after a long period when she had been away, which only made it harder for him to remember all of the words and how they fit together, he hesitantly asked, “Towel?”
She looked up from her book full of little squiggles, annoyed.
He cleared his throat and asked. “Towel what for?”
She stared at him and a deep rage filled her eyes. She started speaking quickly, too fast for him to understand more than the occasional word. She was annoyed, though. He wasn’t learning fast enough and she was.. Running out of time? She said that a couple of times and Esial grasped the meaning of it. Running out of time for what?
“Time? How… long for…. Esial free?” he found himself asking.
The woman turned her ire directly on him and he shrank back even farther on the table, nearly falling off the other side.
“You. Are. Mine.” she said pointedly. “I saved you. I healed you. You stay until I am done.”
He lifted an arm, half sure she was about to strike him, but when he looked back, she had gone back to her book, muttering to herself.
Esial wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. There were worse things, he supposed. He wasn’t entirely bored, sure he was hungry, but he wasn’t hurting either. He picked at his nails glumly, waiting for the ‘English’ lesson to continue.
…………………………………
The vampire was becoming less willing to participate. Joanna should have seen it coming, but after it realized it wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon, it just gave up. It had only given the bare minimum to her and stopped flinching now when she yelled at it, but now it stopped caring entirely. It did not listen, it refused to repeat words, and all it said when she asked any questions was “Esial want out.” It even ignored her when she tried to correct its grammar.
Joanna was getting desperate. She had put off school and work and everything. She had everything hinging on the paper this stupid vampire was supposed to help her write and now it just glared at her when she entered the shed and refused to say anything! Her life hinged on this now! She was relying on that paper and here she sat with a useless waste of space and blood and she was going to lose her mind.
So, today, after a week of the creature’s silence, she walked into the room and continued right across the silver on the floor. The vampire realized the intent in her steps, but didn’t move quickly enough as she grabbed it by the hair, pulling its head back hard. It yelped, hand grabbing onto her wrist.
In front of her, in her mind, was not a man, but a monster that her career depended on. She didn’t care anymore. At this point, he would either speak to her, or she would sell him to someone who would actually get some use out of him.
“You will speak to me,” she said slowly. “Do you understand?”
Shakily, the vampire licked its lips, eyes darting around the room before it said, “Esial want free.”
Red hot anger licked through her and she moved, easily dragging the vampire off the table. It landed hard on the silver and screamed, writhing as it tried to shove silver away from it to keep from burning. She overturned the table, leaving nothing for it to scramble onto and left, locking the door behind her.
………………………
Esial sat hunched on a bare patch of floor. His back and sides were littered with burns, his fingers and toes peeling where he’d pushed the silver back. Dry sobs heaved through his body, the chain rattling with each movement.
The woman caused him pain. She’d hurt him because he wanted to leave and he didn’t want to play her games anymore. Maybe that had been stupid of him, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted out.
He wasn’t healing. It had been weeks without blood right after a tough regeneration and the blood had run out as his body used it slowly as energy. He was starving and all he wanted to do was go home to his little mud shack and wait till he was strong enough to kill some birds. He wanted to wrestle with hippos and see his favorite crocodiles. He wanted his Maman back.
He started rocking, sobbing and whispering for his Maman. He knew she was dead. He knew that his crocodiles were dead. Who knew how much time had passed. He got the sense that it was an enormous amount of time, and that only made him cry all the harder. He wanted to go home but he hadn’t even had a home when he had been taken and chained to that stake.
And then the door opened.
………………………………
Kyle had got a call from Mary, Joanna’s neighbor, her voice looping in his head.
Something was screaming. I know it was. She’s your friend. Check on her please.
Mary had bad blood with police in the past, and Kyle wasn’t going to bring them to her door if he could help it, but he didn’t think it would come to it. He wondered if the vampire had come back and killed Joanna. Or if Joanna kept the thing and it was screaming for help.
He took a stake with him, just in case.
He reached Joanna’s house in the evening just in time to see her get in her car and drive off. He idled in the street, surprised. It seemed like she hadn’t noticed him, though, and she looked perfectly fine if not incredibly angry.
He had a strange feeling in his gut as he parked in the street in front of her house. He took the stake out and trudged through the dew stained grass to the shed. The lock had been left open and he felt rather sick as he slowly opened the door.
The table was overturned, the chain of the ankle cuff caught under it as the vampire sat curled over his knees. There were painful looking burns covering his back and arms, his one visible hand red and blistered from clearing somewhere to safely sit. He slowly lifted his head and looked at the figure in the doorway, his eyes lingering on the stake in Kyle’s hand. There was no fear in his eyes when he saw it, and Kyle realized it was because he didn’t know what it was.
Kyle tossed the stake out and walked carefully over the silver, kicking away some of the closer objects to the vampire. He was only wearing that towel Joanna had given him in the beginning, the edges of it unraveled. He was covered in sores and blisters, and all of those looked recent, but as he uncurled a little to see Kyle better, the researcher could see every single one of his ribs and his hollowed stomach. Vampires didn’t bloat during starvation the way humans did.
Kyle crouched down and Esial stared at him.
“Esial want free,” the vampire whispered heavily.
“Yeah…. Yeah, I can do that for ya, buddy,” Kyle sighed, reaching up to run a hand down the back of Esial’s head. “I’ll find something to cut the chain. I’ll be right back.”
Kyle left the shed and crept around the yard until he found where Joanna had hidden all of her garden supplies. There was a branch cutter that looked like it might work so he picked it up and went back.
Esial looked up again as Kyle got the cutters around the chain. He strained to try and get them through the chain, and while he dented the link, it didn't do much more than that.
He instead turned to where the chain was connected. it was wrapped around a wooden support between the leg and the bottom of the tabletop. He opened the cutter as wide as it would go and bit the metal down into the wood. It gave a little, then splintered. He nearly fell over as the wood gave since he had been leaning his weight into the cutters.
He dropped it on the floor and fished the chain out from under the table, gathering it up in his arms. There wasn't too much of it, but certainly enough to trip the already damaged vampire.
Kyle held out his hand for Esial to take and the vampire did so, accepting the help up.
Kyle carried the chains and shuffled his feet to clear a path for Esial, who followed along after him.
As they stepped outside, Esial took a deep breath, looking up at the stars in confusion for a moment before he was distracted by something else.
"Blood," he whimpered, looking to a lonely corner of the garden. Kyle could faintly see something black coating the plants there and could smell the faint scent of rot.
"We'll buy you some later," Kyle promised. "We have to go."
Esial seemed to understand that and followed along to Kyle's car. Kyle opened the passenger seat door, dumping the chain onto the floor and stepping back. "Sit here," Kyle said, pointing to the chair.
Esial gave him a confused stare. "Sit? But we to go?"
"Yes. You will see. Trust me. Sit."
Esial slowly did and Kyle gently closed the door for him, which had the vampire scrambling at the door in a panic, trying to find the way out. Kyle ran to the other side and got in, leaning over to take Esial's hands. "It's okay," Kyle promised. "You're not going to be stuck here."
Esial's wide muddy eyes seemed to bleed out panic and Kyle reached into his pocket. He kept a fidget toy there for when he was reading lengthy papers so he wouldn't chew his nails down so much.
He gave the cube to Esial, showing him how some of the things moved and clicked and Esial took it, frowning at it as Kyle closed his door and started the car.
Esial jumped at that, eyeing the lights that started up on the dashboard while messing with the cube.
Kyle started driving and Esial stared out the window, eyes wide with shock as the world passed him by. Kyle wondered if he should avoid the highway, but he wanted to get home as quickly as possible, so as he got up to speed Esial gripped the cube like it was the only thing keeping him alive as he went faster than he'd gone in his entire life.
"It's going to be okay," Kyle said softly as they drove and Esial looked down at the cube in his hands, turning it over and over.
Kyle turned off into the small town he rented an apartment in. Joanna inherited her house from her grandparents, but he did not have that for himself. Still, he'd found a nice place to live and he had a guest bedroom. It had been used by a girlfriend he had at the time, but had been empty for months, and he was glad for it now.
He parked his car and pulled his jacket off, reaching over and coaxing Esial's arms through the sleeves and zipping it up.
"No one should be awake right now, but I want to be careful here," Kyle said before getting out and going around to open Esial's door.
The vampire looked around as he stepped out onto the pavement, eyes wide as he took in every detail. It had to be so alien to him, considering how long it had been since he had been conscious. Kyle almost felt bad that he couldn't explain everything to him right now. Instead, he grabbed the chains, put an arm over the vampire to try and hide him more, and went up to the house. It was a building with four apartments and Kyle lived on the top floor.
He got his key out, unlocked the door, and took Esial inside. He closed the door just as quickly and looked around. The apartment had not changed since he left of course, but he felt like he was seeing it with new eyes, imagining that he didn't have a single clue what anything in this room was.
Kyle gently took Esial's arm. "Over here. Let's get you set up."
Esial went with Kyle to the guest bedroom and stood awkwardly, looking around at everything. The room was a little cluttered becoming Kyle's storage room when Jocelyn left, so there were books and totes lined against the walls.
"Here," Kyle said, patting the bed. "For you to sleep."
Esial stepped over curiously, pressing his hands down onto the bed, eyes wide with surprise.
With the vampire distracted, Kyle steeled himself up to feed him. Everyone got lessons in how to safely feed a vampire these days in case of emergencies, so he knew what to do, but he had to steel himself to actually do it. He pulled back his sleeve and went to the adjoining bathroom to wash his arm off, which got Esial's attention immediately.
The vampire came to see what the sound was and stared in awe at the water pouring out of the sink.
Kyle shook his arm to get most of the water off before turning and lifting his arm to Esial. The Vampire stared at it before looking at Kyle in confusion.
"Blood. To eat," Kyle said, a lump in his throat as he said it.
Esial frowned. "Blood? Blood is to Kyle. Not Esial."
"It's a gift. To you."
Esial gave him a skeptical look. "Safe?"
"Yeah?"
Esial went back to looking at the arm and frowned again. "Esial.... doesn't know."
"No, it's fine, you can have it. It's yours."
Esial shook his head. "Esial doesn't know-" the vampire mimicked something that Kyle didn't catch. "Esial hurt Kyle. Not know."
Kyle was still confused so he switched to the ancient Egyptian language Esial knew.
"You do not know what?"
Esial's eyes lit up, like he had forgotten that Kyle spoke something he knew a bit better. "I do not know how to drink from a living thing. I only drank blood taken from animals. I do not want to kill you."
“Oh…” Kyle said, back in English. “I don’t really have a needle…. Can I feed you tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Esial replied, still in Egyptian which worked for Kyle since the Vampire seemed to understand him mostly fine though struggled with speaking the language.
“Alright, you get some sleep here. You can use the blankets. We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
Esial's Rescue Art
Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight
Part 5
#vampire whumpee#carewhumper turned just whumper#silver burns#toe and finger whump#dragged by the hair#vampire trafficking#it as a pronoun#dehumanization#I love this story#And I'm very attached to the world this all takes place in#in future whump bits in this world#I have plans for the worldbuilding and it's going to be epic#burned at the stake#part 4
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Yeah, I know this is a few days late. But this drawing took me a lot more time than I anticipated, and the executives weren't always functioning, so it is what it is.
It's hard to believe that I only started posting art Rise art in late September, and have already gained a modest following. I have @onejellyfishplease to thank for a lot of that, I believe. I would often make fanart for them and when they reblogged it I'd receive a significant spike in notes, and sometimes a new follower. So thank you, Jelly!
Jelly is also the one who encouraged me to make Tabletop Turtles, the first AU I've made since I was 12! And now I'm starting to be able to carve out my own following without needing to ride on Jelly's coattails.
Speaking of TTAU, how about an update? [Under the cut]
TTAU is still very much in development, though I'd say it is now out of the conceptual stage and is now in the planning stage. I've got many ideas for the story and am currently in the process of organizing those ideas into a rough outline and filling in some blanks.
The story of TTAU will retell the plot of the show, reimagined by the fantasy setting and different dynamics created by the separated AU aspect. Plus, with some of my own subplots and worldbuilding thrown in as well.
All that to say; this story will not be short. In classic Me fashion, I've managed to take a simple concept and turn it into an epic-length story. Because I'm incapable of telling short stories, apparently.
So, the comic probably won't be ready to start for at least a couple more months. I am a plantser, who leans a little more towards outlining, so I don't want to jump into the story without at least a general idea of where I'm going. I'll try to keep making some art for TTAU in the meantime.
And, because this is my first time ever making a comic, and literally every comic making advice video ever practically begs you not to start with a long comic, I'll be making several short comics as practice. I'll probably start with simple comic strips, work my way up to short stories. Some might be related to TTAU, but most probably won't.
Thank you for your patience, and your encouragement! Especially to @overthinkingspark-blue, @idk-im-just-here-now, @starsandspacefog, and @varianlikescheese! This idea would have fizzled out a long time ago without you guys bouncing my excitement back at me and keeping this flame burning.
And as always, if you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask!
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#my art#rottmnt fanart#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raph#rottmnt april#rottmnt mayhem#rottmnt shelldon#Tabletop Turtles AU#TTAU art#tumblr milestone
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a recreation of a sonic fanfiction i wrote when i was 10
ok y'all, some context is needed.
we have a song called cassiopeia coming out tonight. i made a tiktok that said if the sound for cassiopeia is used 100 times, i'll publish the sonic fanfiction i wrote when i was 10 that i joke about a lot but have never shared. anyway, this happened in an hour. i am shocked. i did not expect it to happen so quickly, if at all. i begin my search.
well, it turns out i can't publish it because the places it was published no longer exist, and 10 y/o me didn't back it up (although i thought i had). bummer. an early internet relic gone.
either way, the plot details are seared into my memory because honestly? for some reason, that small act of creativity was a core memory in my life. so while i can't share it, i can retell it, because it's silly and pretty accurately captures what it's like to be 10 and obsessed with a piece of popular media. so here goes.
enjoy, and stream our new single cassiopeia tonight.
SCENE OPENS
the fanfiction was about a page long. the story opens with me - in school, as i did most every day of my life up to that point. in the story, sonic/tails/knuckles live in the human world, and essentially function as superheroes. there's no explanation for it, they just are there keeping the earth safe and such. we are also friends. there is no explanation or backstory for that either.
with the setting established, we're straight into the action; an alien pod crash lands in our school playground after school. me and my friend are the only kids left. where are the teachers? who knows. as is evident, worldbuilding was not my strong point.
anyway, in this alien pod is...an alien. it was a spider that looked a lot like the facehuggers from the alien film franchise, because i'd seen a clip of that as a kid and it freaked the hell out of me. i call sonic (where did i get a mobile phone from?) and let him know something Serious is going down. sonic and tails arrive - knuckles is too busy trying to get the master emerald back from doctor robotnik in this instance.
my friend and i take a back seat and let sonic and tails deal with the weird alien thing. they deal with one, but as soon as they get rid of it 10 other capsules drop in the area. sonic and tails can't take them all, so me and my friend join in to help take them out. i didn't really account for how, but we're fighting all back to back and it's very epic. (sonic x was the prevailing sonic show at the time, and it was y'know - very dramatic. so this was like a scene from that.) tails even brings in the tornado two, his personal plane, to run rings around them. after we finish the final facehugger alien off, a final alien pod descends. but out of this pod emerges...
shadow the hedgehog.
the aliens had been sent by him, and he was here to take sonic down. this was all part of his master plan.
the piece then ended, because i suppose i was going to follow it up at some point. but alas, that did not happen.
moral(s) of the story:
archive the silly stuff you wrote when you were a kid, it'll be fun to look back on later.
stream our new song, cassiopeia. it has nothing to do with any of this, but i think it's neat regardless.
thank you.
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I have fallen down a Fourth World rabbit hole (this is @ngoziu's fault) and am now reading everything DC has ever published with these characters, in order, as is my wont, and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, so I'm going to start dumping them all here. Sorry.
Background if you have no idea what I'm talking about but want to read this post anyway (why?): in 1971, Jack Kirby left Marvel because he couldn't put up with Stan Lee any longer and came to DC, where they were like "Yes you can do anything you want" (this was a lie). He immediately began writing, drawing, and editing an incredibly ambitious epic that stretched over four simultaneously published books: Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen (we can mostly ignore this one), New Gods, Mister Miracle, and The Forever People. These books came to be known as Jack Kirby's Fourth World Tetralogy.
The books all center around the war between the utopian planet New Genesis, ruled by the benevolent Highfather, and the dystopian planet Apokalips, ruled by the evil Darkseid. At the heart of the narrative is "The Pact," aka The Cosmic Baby Swap. To ensure a (temporary) truce, Highfather and Darkseid traded sons when said children were very young - so Orion, Darkseid's son, is raised on New Genesis, and Scott Free, Highfather's son, is raised on Apokalips. Neither knows who their real father is until adulthood.
Orion grows up in a utopia, but tormented by his feelings of rage and otherness that he can't explain. Scott is raised in a torture orphanage, because that's just what happens on Apokalips, but eventually he escapes to Earth and becomes the escape artist Mister Miracle. The Cosmic Baby Swap begs what to me is the central question of the Fourth World, which is: what is the nature of good? Which boy will be a hero? The one born to good and raised by evil, or the one born to evil and raised by good?
TRICK QUESTION THEY'RE BOTH HEROES!!! GOOD IS MORE POWERFUL THAN EVIL! LOVE WINS AND FASCISM LOSES! This is so, so important to me and any version of these characters that doesn't understand the really not very complex symbolism here is invalid and kind of embarrassing for the writer (looking at you, Tom King).
Also Scott falls in love with and eventually marries Big Barda, one of Darkseid's fiercest warriors, who was born on Apokalips and raised on Apokalips and chooses good anyway. LOVE WINS AGAIN! BARDA TOPS HER TINY HUSBAND IN THE NAME OF PEACE AND COMPASSION!
Sadly DC canceled New Gods and Forever People after only 11 issues, which kind of killed Kirby's whole vision. Mister Miracle limped along until #18, but as a really pale shadow of itself. So we never really got the full scope of Kirby's original plans.
ANYWAY. That's the background. Now thoughts on the actual comics:
Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen: I love Jimmy, I love Superman, I love the Newsboy Legion, but this book feels very tangential to the whole Fourth World experiment and I think we can safely set it to the side. However, if you love the 90s Superboy series, I recommend dipping into this because it's the source material for a lot of Kon's worldbuilding (Cadmus, Dubbilex, clone Guardian, etc.).
The Forever People (1971): So I originally read all the Jack Kirby Fourth World stuff like...at least 15 years ago, when I was still relatively new to comics, and I'll be honest: I didn't get it. Kirby is sort of an acquired taste, and I didn't really have any context for what he was doing. I understood the metaphors, but I didn't get why people found the work appealing. And Forever People in particular was the book where I was like "Why. What is the point of this" the most.
Rereading it many years later, I find it to be a lot more moving and profound - like, the Happyland issue alone is a knockout. That said, Kirby is, uhhhh...not great at ensemble characterization without Lee, and the Forever People themselves are unforgivably bland. Default Guy! Big Guy! Black Guy! Girl! Kid! Props to Kirby for making it a not all-white group - and for introducing five out of seven of DC's first Black characters in the space of, like, two years - but it would have been nice if he gave them personalities, too.
New Gods (1971): This is Orion's book and the heart of the Fourth World. At its best, it's the pinnacle of "Makes no sense...compels me, though." Like, "Glory Boat?" I don't understand a single thing that happened in that comic but it's so fucking good. I just want to read thousands of words of comics scholars over the past 50 years going "????" in collective confused admiration.
Mister Miracle (1971): This was the book I was most invested in when I read the Fourth World years ago, because I already loved Scott and Barda from JLI, but now I think it's weaker than New Gods and arguably even than Forever People. Kirby doesn't seem as invested in going all in on Big Concepts here, and Scott escaping endless weird deathtraps is only compelling for so long. The later issues, after the other books were canceled and DC made Kirby pivot away from the Apokalips/New Genesis war, are nothing. But Scott and Barda (and Oberon and Shilo) are everything, so I guess it balances out. Anyway Scott clearly already knows a lot about Earth by the time he meets Oberon and Thaddeus Brown, so DC please feel free to hire me to write a Mister Miracle: Year One miniseries about Scott's arrival on Earth, thank you.
Okay, now for the post-Kirby (or really, intra-Kirby) stuff:
Mister Miracle (1977): This picks up the numbering from the Kirby series, running from #19-25, and was written by Steve Englehart and then Steve Gerber, and it sucks so bad. For three reasons, in escalating importance:
Riddled with continuity holes and factual errors that don't match what Kirby established. Himon is shown on New Genesis - how did he get there? Metron is depicted as subservient to Highfather when Kirby showed him as a neutral, independent agent. Etc.
The treatment of non-Scott characters is largely terrible. Oberon is written really condescendingly (Scott's like "Ride on my shoulders like you used to!" even though they definitely did not ever do that before, because Oberon is not a child). When Scott feels guilty that he's not actively fighting the war, Highfather's like "I don't want you to fight because I feel bad that I traded you to Darkseid, let Orion do it" as if that isn't the root of Orion's severe emotional trauma TOO. And worst of all is Barda, who is knocked out and captured in the first issue and spends pretty much the entire rest of the series unconscious, waiting for Scott to rescue her - except for the brief scene where she wakes up brainwashed, requiring Scott to beat the shit out of her. Lovely.
The series is reeeally fixated on the notion that Scott is a god, and extrapolates that to Scott deciding he's the messiah. Now, I'm not going to say that the Fourth World can't be used to explore Christian themes just because Kirby is Jewish, because Kirby was very definitely exploring biblical themes extensively and frankly I don't know enough about the Bible to say whether he was sticking religiously (ha) to the Old Testament. But I do think taking one of the central characters of a Jewish man's magnum opus and making him the messiah is, uh, pushing it. And there's no way to argue he's not a Christian messiah because, uh, he T-poses a lot in this series and Granny also specifically states that if Scott is the messiah, she'll find an anti-Christ to combat him (which...wouldn't that sort of by default be Orion? which just further proves that the idea of a messiah really doesn't work in the Fourth World framework). Anyway it's gross and I hate it.
New Gods (1977): I'm kind of using this as a catchall to cover all of Gerry Conway's New Gods work, which includes the actual 1977 New Gods series (which picks up the numbering from Kirby, so it's #12-19), the conclusion of the story in Adventure Comics, and the Justice League of America crossover with the Fourth World. (Also there's one issue of Super-Team Family where Lightray and Metron team up with the Flash to save Orion, who has grown really really big, but that doesn't fit with the rest of Conway's continuity so I guess we can ignore it.)
Anyway this stuff is not as infuriating as Mister Miracle, but it's also not...good. The central concept is that Darkseid has discovered that the Anti-Life Equation is contained within the brains of six humans, so Highfather sends six New Gods to protect said humans: Orion, Lightray, Metron (he doesn't work for you, Highfather), Forager (also does not work for you), Lonar, and Sensational Character Find of 1977, Jezebelle of the Fiery Eyes (Original Character Do Not Steal).
Mostly this series is frustrating because all the New Gods are wildly incompetent and fail completely at their tasks. Orion is dumbed down to The World's Most Basic Superhero (he has a big O on his chest now!). I spent the whole time yelling "HE CAN'T FLY, GERRY!" at the comics. Forager is lumped in with no mention of that whole thing where...he's a New God who was raised among the Bugs, who are being persecuted by the New Gods? I feel like that should be explained or at least addressed? (Presumably Kirby would have gotten around to it eventually.) Forager also should not be flying but here he does. I guess. Lonar flies too but mostly on his horse, which bothers me less for some reason, I'll accept a flying horse. (Also Lonar's human he's supposed to protect is Inuit and hoo boy is this comic racist. The poor guy wears a fur diaper the whole time and speaks a completely made up language.)
And then there's Jezebelle of the Fiery Eyes. Who is blue, for reasons that are never explained, and wears a bikini and fishnets because it's 1977, and mentions her fiery eyes (heat vision) every time she speaks. She's from Apokalips, but defected to New Genesis during battle. Which, like...I appreciate that Conway recognized that this team should have a female character, but what with Orion, Scott, Barda, and Inexplicably Present Himon, it feels like we have enough characters who have defected from Apokalips in some way? And it's just super weird that the ONLY female characters we have seen from New Genesis are Beautiful Dreamer of the Forever People (trapped in another dimension indefinitely) and Scott's dead mom. Like, what's the implication here? Heaven doesn't have women? Also, I know Conway was going for biblical names to match New Genesis and Izaya (he also introduces a Lucifar), but, like...Jezebelle? JEZEBELLE. Your only female New God and you named her "whore." Amazing.
And with that, we have covered the New Gods in the 70s (minus some Mister Miracle/Batman teamups). Next time: the 80s, and Kirby tries so so hard to kill Orion but DC won't let him.
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I know this is a bit sudden, buuuuuuuuut...
I've been thinking a fair bit about the canned MSM tv show recently. For those not aware, Big Blue Bubble was originally planning to turn My Singing Monsters into an animated series. However, they've since canned it for... reasons? I dunno, I’ll never understand how BBB came to can this idea, but from the looks of it, this series looked like it would be very good. I even have a few thoughts dedicated to how this could work, if it ever get brought back from the dead. And that includes things like the personalities of the main characters, along with some juicy ideas for things like worldbuilding based on the games' surprisingly deep lore.
Pom Pom- A cheerful soul motivated by endless creativity. Her main goal in life is to create various musical masterpieces as a sort of maestro. A bit like Charlie from Hazbin Hotel, if you can see it.
Mammott- The lovable doofus of the trio. Loyal to his friends, Mammott isn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, but his heart is much larger. Can get into sticky situations due to his state of mind.
Furcorn- The straight-Mon of the trio. While he’s more than happy to support his friends, he serves as the voice of reason within the group, especially with things like Pom-Pom going in over her head, and Mammott’s child-like curiosity getting the better of him. Is also both sassy and blunt.
While the general tone of this show would be similar to the laidback and wacky tone of the original games, Those Singing Monsters could have its own sense of worldbuilding, and that could be reflected in the tones of its seasons. The plot of at least the first season revolves around Pom Pom and co going on all sorts of wacky adventures across the Monster World, singing songs and getting into all sorts of mischief along the way. An idea for an overarching plot could go into in a couple of ideas.
Idea A- The rediscovery of the lost element of Fire, and the attempts made to bring it and the Monsters belonging to that element back into The Monster World. Could also expand on and and show off an animated iteration of the events of the Dawn of Fire, the events that led to its end and the Fire monsters being forced into hiding, and how it’s affected The Monster World since.
Idea B- Admittingly, this could work more as the plot of a Season 2, but the story of the Celestials could work. How they came into existence, their history with the Colossals, the formation of Starhenge, and how the end of the Dawn of Fire led them to being dormant. Due to some sort of problem, Pom Pom and co. would go on some sort of grand, season-spanning adventure to find the Celestials, reawaken them, and bring all of them back together.
It's not entirely perfect, but an attempt was made. Heck, you could even throw in more aspects of the franchise's world into this show for more plots; Things like the Magicals, the Shugafam (Probably have Shugabush be voiced by Kristian Bush himself), the Ethereals and the Pocket Dimension, the Rare and Epic monsters, the Wubbox and the Wublins, The Colossingum, Mythical Island, and more would all help with the stories of this show.
And as much as it sucks that it's currently canceled, maybe, in some sort of strange sense, there's hope for TSM. The franchise has been getting more and more popular in recent years, so Big Blue Bubble could be made to realize the potential of a MSM show, and roll with it. And besides, Fandemonium wasn't the best way to go around with the concept of a My Singing Monsters show. As much as I can get behind it, they should've thought about it more.
#ultra ramblings#my singing monsters#also this show would have a couple of songs in each episode#a bit like the ghost and molly mcgee and donkey kong country
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Hi! 10kDays has had a vice grip on my psyche for the last week or so, and I'm really excited to play the preview. However, I don't wanna make anyone else in my group GM this game just because I want to play it, so I'd like to try out the GMless mode of play, and so would they, but none of us have any experience with that style of game.
Is there any game you'd recommend we look at for a general picture of how you intend GMless play to work? I do own Ironsworn, which has a GMless mode, so if that jives with what you're intending that would be really convenient lmao.
Thanks for your time!
So there's a couple of thoughts i have here, starting with the shape of the game and the pieces of it that need different kinds and amounts of attention:
The game itself is kind of designed in three strands: courses, combat, and the Face game.
Courses are an adaptation of the Arc/quest mechanic from Jenna Moran's Glitch. I've found that they reduce the GM load hugely, for two reasons: you can roll up half an hour before game, ask "who wants to be in the spotlight, what does your quest say is happening in your life right now, and what needs to happen?", and drop something in. Connections and debts are also designed to give you improv prompts, and to a slightly lesser extent perspectives. The other benefit of Courses is that they move planning burden from "GM, night before game" to "player, whenever they want to think about their blorbo". So on a large-scale, "figure out what the campaign looks like" view, you can get away with improvising every session and just following your own character arcs. Likewise, the District moves and intentions are intended to give GMs an easy "i don't know what to do next" button, and the focuses of mask/gear/bell are intended to share around the responsibilities of worldbuilding. Ironsworn's oracles are another example of how to help outsource some of that decision-making, and it's the reason Appendix Yi is earmarked to be a million random tables. For more information on how oracles work, please google Jay Dragon's Sleepaway on your work computer (or at least read this Twitter thread from NightlingBug).
There are a couple story structures that are well suited to wuxia and this game. There's the Shaolin Soccer/shadowrunner/classic ttrpg setup where you are clearly a team, and there are enemy teams, and you are doing hijinks against them. But there's also a Jin Yong wuxia epic type thing where you have, let's say three or four PCs, and you're maybe nominally on the same side but you're clashing a lot and you're tied together by sworn and blood kinship and you keep running into each other. I think the most pared-down version of 10kdays you could run and still call it a full game is 3 players, characters living sort of far apart so they rarely run into each other, and interactions are 2 of the PCs clashing at a time while the 3rd player picks up any NPCs, throws in some District moves, etc. You could do a 2-player game but the kinds of interactions you could have would be severely limited, I think. The Face game of politicking and building support structures is kind of just... you two, face to face.
Now the problem on everyone's mind is fighting. It's attention-intensive, everyone's interested in it, and depending on your setup there can be loads of combatants that a GM would normally be expected to pilot. Again, there are a couple of scaffolds for trying to do this GMless. The sample Techniques in Appendix Jia come with combat tactics to make use of them, so any player can pick up an NPC combatant and figure out what they're going to do. Fight choreographing like this runs the pitfall of it feeling sort of bad to hurt your friends effectively, at least for some tables, but there is the incentive of hitting your friend's Bite highlight when you grab the corpo thug and bite them in the ass.
It is one of my mid-to-low priorities to create like algorithm type protocols for enemy fighters to run themselves, though that's still in the pipe dream phase. One thing I'm looking at here is Katabasis by Rathayibacter, which has a super cool system for easily lining up combatant actions, enemy or not). Maybe I'll end up with literal combat loop Turing machines or something.
There's one more option here which is to lean the other way -- to foreground the GM themselves being a player. I'm talking Ryuutama dragons, I'm talking Fellowship Overlords. Obviously I one hundred percent have not added this yet, and I'm not even set that I will, but it's definitely a tool I'm thinking of to help manage the wuxia/cyberpunk/other bullshit genre merger. If you went this way, it would look like picking a district -- secret note, each district is built to amplify a genre. Gongshan is made to focus on wuxia/the bell, Jiaotou is made to focus on cyber/the gear, Youzhou is made to focus on punk/the mask, Jingcai Xin is made to focus on court and courtroom politics, and Yuanhai is made to play Nezha Reborn. Pick a district that corresponds to the genre the GM is playing as, turn those Moves into Heroic/Humbling Moves and the landmarks/NPCs into Treasures and Connections, turn the Intentions into Skills. Now you can combine this with what I first talked about, sharing out cognitive load, and focus on playing as a district/genre. Is that meaningfully different from being a GM, who let's recall still counts as a player at the table? I'm a sicko who loves being a GM so I'm unqualified to comment, but try out any combination of these options and see how they take you.
#ten thousand days for the sword#ill just automate all of tatterpiging its fine#larian did it its fine
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I think it was a mistake to make RWBY a grand epic adventure with relics, maidens, gods, and a supervillain. Keep the show within the simple and fun academy setting with a monster of the week style formula. With the occasional field trip to other places to freshen things up and meet new faces. As bad as the writers are, this would play to their strengths and not their weaknesses. Instead of bloating the cast and inventing new ideas only to never revisit them all while failing basic worldbuilding. Simplifying the story and limiting concepts to dust, aura, and semblances would also save money too. What do you think?
For sure. If we were talking about different writers, I'm actually one of those people that has no problem with the big changes RWBY underwent.
Back when V3 and V4 were new to me, I was totally on board with the changes! A good show can go through a... I don't want to call it a genre shift, but at the very least a plot shift. Things go from 'Ruby Rose and her friends attend a combat school, but there's something brewing under the surface' into 'Team RWBYJNROQ are on a world-saving adventure quest that will take them all over the world searching for magical objects while opposed by an immortal villain.' And to me, that's fine... Except that the writers couldn't handle that strain and couldn't manage to turn one into the other.
They're some weird combination of writers who plan and writers who fly by the seat of their pants, as in it feels like they have some things set that they want to do but never know how they'll get there and then just fumble to do it. This is a pretty bad thing when the show actually relies on things like magic system and world building now. A loose magic system was fine when it was 'Team RWBY has super-powers, they're in school to help them use it to destroy giant robots' but it's not fine when it's 'Team RWBY want to use the magical staff to save Penny and make a magical route to Vacuo and have to use the specific magical rules to do it and then they fall into a magical world that the gods came from.' That requires care and attention and lore-building, all things that the writers aren't good at. And big overarching plots are great, but not when the writers can't seem to actually get anywhere with it, can't seem to remember to have the mains learn and grow in significant ways, can't seem to keep track of who knows what, and can't seem to make their writing choices have any real significant impact.
I say this all the time, but the reason I have so many problems with the writing in RWBY isn't the thing itself, it's the fact that the writers don't understand what they can and can't handle.
This is why if a RWBY rewriter or fixer is like 'here's how I'd handle serious topics like XYZ' or is like 'I still plan to kill Penny/Pyrrha' or 'I'm definitely still including Maidens/Relics/Gods' or even does something like have Oz in Jaune's head or something, I'll caution them to be careful but I have zero problem with it actually because there's very little that I think a skilled and passionate writer can't do well (this is also why I'm never gonna be a 'stop making live actions' girlie.) But as for the RWBY writers we do have, yeah, they really should've stuck to what they were good at, the slightly more low stakes fun with an underlying tension somewhat episodic monster-of-the-week thing about teenagers and their fun little dramas. I'm not even trying to say that badly, I think I would love it! But instead what we got is a hot mess of jumbled half-complete ideas that are badly written at best and actively offensive and harmful at worst.
What a bummer.
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TGH/TDR vs WoT season 2: what's in and what's out pt 2 (worldbuilding)
This time we're doing concepts and settings introduced in TGH/TDR (or introduced in EoTW but not in S1 of the show).
Introduced in EoTW but not S1
Caemlyn
Andoran politics inc. Tigraine's disappearance
Tar Valon was substituted for Caemlyn in S1 but I believe it has been confirmed as a setting for S3. In terms of information viewers need to remember, Andoran politics only *really* start to matter when we kick off the Succession plotline & I expect will be scattered throughout future seasons until we get to the main event in S5-6 or so. If Slayer is in S3 (I think this has also been suggested) then we could start to get some infodumps about the whole Tigraine & Luc disappearance drama there. (Side-note: I think show-only people are going to find it hilarious if Rand has an uncle Luke (Luc).)
Introduced in TGH
Cairhien
Daes Dae'mar
Illuminators
The Choedan Kal (not named)
Ogier politics and culture
The search for the Car'a'carn
Seanchan/the Hailene
The secret of the a'dam/sul'dam
The Black Ajah
The Accepted test
Still missing from the show but first introduced in TGH: Ogier politics and culture(differences between steddings), the existence and location of the Choedan Kal, and the Illuminators. The Ogier stuff may or may not EVER be relevant. The Choedan Kal can & should be introduced to up the stakes from Callandor when it proves too dangerous, although may get easter egg mentions prior, quite possibly as a Lanfear back-up plan. The Illuminators - again only necessary when gunpowder and its potential for weapons start to become relevant. They could be introduced in Tanchico if the plot goes there or as refugees from the Seanchan. (NB: I think show-only people are also going to be REALLY sideswiped by that whole plot, gunpowder weapons are so rare in the popular perception of epic fantasy. It's going to make WoT really stand out.)
Another note: in the show the fact that the a'dam can be used on sul'dam remains a secret from the Seanchan and was not presented as an empire-shattering discovery, and the lore has changed so sul'dam are just very weak in the Power. I think there's a chance that in the show it becomes something known but suppressed in Seanchan rather than a genuine/complete rediscovery. Given how long channelers live that would check out; the books never make anything of it but Alivia is old enough that when she was born there were still a few free channelers in Seanchan. The 'Consolidation' was not a short victorious war but a multi-century period.
Introduced in TDR
Tear (the city/Stone), Illian, and Ghealdan
Darkhounds
Wolfbrothers losing themselves
Wolves and the Dream/prophetic wolf dreams
Wide-scale ta'veren effects
Tel'aran'rhiod
Forsaken controlling nations (including specifically Illian, Tear, and Andor)
Grey Men
Callandor/the fall of the Stone
Mat's luck
Set-up for the Tower Coup
Egwene as a Dreamer/Egwene's prophetic Dreams
Balefire
Fireworks as weapons
As with characters, there's a lot of worldbuilding from TDR that hasn't come into play yet! I think this is mostly for pacing reasons. On the other hand, we actually got a lot of Tel'aran'rhiod in S2 which aligns with TDR, a book where characters spend about half their time having prophetic dreams (or so it feels like).
Mat's luck and Egwene's Dreaming abilities - these are solid/obvious S3 arcs for these characters that they didn't have time for in S2. No question we'll see them next season, I think, although Mat's luck might have more of a slow-burn introduction than just suddenly working.
The Forsaken - have only just all been released! We'll certainly see them taking over nations in the next season or two.
Darkhounds, Wolfbrother lore, Callandor, fireworks as weapons - I think this has all been held back for pacing. Famously Perrin's plot needs to be spread out to give him stuff to do in later seasons. He might not get prophetic dreams though since it's a bit of a repeat of Egwene's Dreaming and never goes anywhere much.
Similarly, it's a Big Deal when Rand gets Callandor and then it...stays where it is for five books, that's not good TV pacing. I suspect he will pick it up just in time to try using it and fail against the Seanchan. And we don't need to think about fireworks as weapons until Mat is in a place to take advantage of the possibilities.
Balefire, widespread ta'veren effects, Grey Men - these are all things which pose the question 'why aren't they being used all the time' once they're introduced, and the latter two will be quite hard to effectively and efficiently do in a visual medium. We'll get balefire eventually but at a much higher power level for our characters, and the other two we might never get at all.
Tear and Illian - genuinely no idea when we'll get to these cities! Illian we may never visit as not a lot happens there that has to happen *there*. We'll go to Tear (the city proper) at SOME point but...depends on a lot of things exactly when.
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Have you also watched the One Piece anime? After watching the new live action I was like “oooh! I should check out the anime!” But it is like 1000 episodes. Is it worth it?
Hi! I've watched a good chunk of the One Piece anime, yes! I watched up through at least the Arabasta arc, probably up through episode 150 or so, but at the time that was all that was released, so I had to switch to the manga. (I kind of fell out of One Piece for awhile after certain events in the manga hurt my heart too much to keep going for awhile, but I've always intended to go back. So I would say I've read somewhere just past half of the manga?)
So, take that into consideration, that I'm coming from "started with the anime, got 150 episodes in, that's all the further the anime was along at the time, so I had to switch to the manga, but I fell out somewhere around chapter 500 or so, but that was long enough that I had plenty of time to compare the manga and the anime to each other, once the anime caught up to where I was in the manga".
My ideal One Piece watching order is pretty much exactly what I went through:
- Be prepared for the first ~20 episodes to be kind of dull, maybe you'll like them, but most people find them kind of tedious, but idk maybe you could skip the first 30 episodes or so because OPLA covers the events reasonably well
- Watch up through the Arabasta arc (episode 150 or so), the pacing of the anime is really, really watchable up to that point and the voice actors are ASTOUNDINGLY perfect in their roles
- Switch to the manga for the Jaya arc/Skypiea arc, unless you're having a really hard time with it, Skypiea should still be pretty good pacing (up to episode 195 or so)
- SERIOUSLY GET OUT OF THE ANIME AROUND THIS POINT because it has to start stretching out the events to fill time because it catches up to the manga too quickly, so there's a TON of filler, like by the time I went to try to watch the events of the Davy Back Fight in the anime, it was EXCRUTIATING trying to slog through the long, looooooong minutes of characters just STARING at each other to fill time
Is it worth it? Yes, yes, and yes. One Piece is genuinely my favorite manga ever, nothing has ever come close to how well done I've found it to be. It's not perfect, it definitely has trouble when it comes to women (though, I think Oda is at least trying to get better about that) and the art style isn't going to be for everyone, but the sheer WORLDBUILDING and PLOT are absolutely NUTS, Oda knew exactly where this story was heading when he started and you can see that dedication unfold as it goes along, things that you had no idea were important back then, that just seemed random, will suddenly be MASSIVELY important, like as an example:
When Shanks tells the sea monster to GET LOST! after it chomps his arm, there's a whooshing, the camera in both the anime/manga and the live action make a point of how the air kind of 'shakes' around him, and it's super dramatic, right? THAT'S GOING TO BE IMPORTANT LATER and watching OPLA I was struck all over again HOLY SHIT ODA PLANNED THAT FROM THE BEGINNING.
One Piece is a deeply silly and ridiculous series, not everything is meant to be taken seriously, sometimes it's just Oda joking around and being goofy! But there's a genuine story about friendships and a massively internally consistent world that will slowly unfold before you and some of the most epic battles I've ever seen.
One Piece is a series that has made me genuinely cry over Luffy's hat more than once, it has made me cry over a ship, that's how powerfully the story can affect my emotions, because it's genuinely such a loveable series.
Yeah, I absolutely do recommend it! Start with the anime, but for the love of all things holy, stop at least around episode 200 and switch to the manga, it's a tough adjustment for a few chapters, but it's totally worth it!!
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Wait if Vaati is in the Four Sword does that mean I can add him to the system. For giggles.
You’ve already seen “Four is a system and they have to cope with Shadow reappearing while on a quest with the LU Chain”, what about their nemesis being still alive and kicking. Maybe throw in a full dissociative barrier for fun.
Vaati is smart enough to get the lay of the land before pulling anything, I think, considering his previous escape attempts. So that leaves us with the hilarious possibility of Vaati attempting to pretend to be Four despite only having socialized with him in epic boss battles at the end of a sword. Also, while Vaati is good with a blade, I think at minimum his natural inclination is to be a spellsword. Four may not have exercised his hypothetical magic “muscles” much, but Vaati still knows the ins and outs of magic on principle, so. I’m imagining him summoning crystal walls and such on reflex and the Chain just gawking.
Also Vaati running a scam because money is fake. I think the Minish can just spawn rupees sometimes, if they have the excess magic for it. I have an intense worldbuilding breakdown of what rupees are and how they even work, magically speaking, and I think it would be hilarious if Vaati just keeps… upcycling rupees because he’s bored. Or leaving rupoors around to generate some passive income by stealing from unlucky fools. The man has to commit some small crimes or he’s going to go insane being “good”.
We’re all used to the idea of Dark approaching Four as the possible weak Link tempted by darkness (thanks Vio). I think it would be funny if Four expects that, even has some contingency plans for that, and Dark isn’t even talking to him in his little face-heel turn monologue. He’s talking to Vaati, because he makes it his business to observe these things. But Vaati thinks Dark’s a light-damned amateur and a charlatan and most importantly far, far beneath him. He tried being a minion and didn’t like it very much.
I want Dark to get a look at why Vaati was the unopposed terror of Hyrule until Ganon’s ascension.
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Rising to the West - I
2,576 words. The first re-penned chapter in my original series, The Jackal of An-Nadr.
For new readers, The Jackal is an ongoing whump series set in 1,200 BCE, where pre-Islamic fantasy meets the love of bloody sword fights, found family, and handsome men who long for nothing more than home. I am so excited for this unveiling, the love that you all have shown this series over the past several years means more to me than I could ever say. This is for you <3
- Masterpost -
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Chapter Warning | environmental whump, epic worldbuilding, demonic pirates and the massive sandships they sail, marooned in the middle of the desert with no hope of rescue, deadly levels of dehydration, very near-death experience, very brief allusion to noncon, prayer/fantasy religion, evading capture, foot injury
Taglist | @killtheprotagonist @secretwhumplair @ink-and-salt @kixngiggles @brutal-nemesis @thebewilderer @whumpsical @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whimperwoods @shydragonrider @pizzasthengym @thecyrulik @ceph-the-writing-spook @mylifeisonthebookshelf @ohwhumpydays @redwingedwhump
His name was Nadeem el-Azimi, and things had not gone according to plan.
He stumbled on the loose crest of the dune, barely able to blink his eyes open enough to right his path. His body swayed as he adjusted back onto course, aching with the effort it took to take those few extra steps. Sand cascaded down the face of the drift in steady intervals behind him, rushing toward the base like trickles of water.
Of all things, his mind kept circling and circling about how raw his feet felt. The loose, ever-shifting sand ground between his toes, and there was nothing he could do to make it stop.
The sun had set over the An-Nadr desert, and the temperature had plummeted with it. Nadeem pulled his waist sash tighter around his shoulders, clenching his jaw to keep it from clattering against the cold. The stars overhead were dying out one by one, but the warmth of dawn was hours away, even though the light would come sooner.
He kept walking. It only made it harder if he stopped.
In the distance, a low patch of scrub hugged the earth. The traders had taunted him with it when they marooned him amongst the sand. A sun-wrinkled face leered down at him as the others dumped him over the stanchion, the breath knocked from his lungs when he hit the ground. He struggled and gasped against his binds, while the men above him laughed.
“Three days to the east!” the old one said to him. The one whose filthy hands he could still feel roving over his body when he closed his eyes. He leaned over the rail and grinned as the other men tamed the mast behind him, the wind catching its girth and pulling it taut.
Nadeem thrashed and cursed through his gag, shouting desperately as the sandship began to move.
“Three days to the east you’ll find water,” he called back, “Better get going, little thief!”
And the shadow of the hull slid over his body, sunlight blinking between strips of rope. And then the white of the mast shrank beyond the waves, and the sandship had disappeared from sight.
It had taken him nearly half a day to struggle free of his bonds. By then he was utterly, entirely alone. For hundreds of miles in every direction, the only thing was sand.
That had been two and a half days ago. Anger had burned out into sorrow, then to hopelessness, then to a numbness that he couldn't shake. The leagues had passed underfoot slowly, pace worsening as his body had slowly begun to fail. Nadeem had never been a particularly stout man and, while he knew hunger like an old enemy, his body still was not made to endure the absence of water. Not like this. He rubbed mindlessly at the friction burns circling his wrists to try to distract himself from the endless drone of thirst.
Through the dark he could just barely begin making out the green against the washed-out blue of the surrounding sand, peeking between the dunes. He thought he could make out the shape of date trees, but he no longer trusted his eyes not to play tricks on him. They couldn’t be more than a few more hours away.
And as soon as he saw the oasis he knew he wasn’t going to make it.
And still he kept walking.
---
The first pearls of sunlight caught his shoulders, and he shuddered with relief. It wasn't enough, but with the night having long since sapped away his warmth, he’d take whatever he could get.
Those who crossed these deserts knew to travel after dusk once the savage temperatures had fallen, and to take shelter and sleep as much as they could through the long days when the heat would kill anything that moved. Any other day, he would have kept walking for another hour as the sun rose, then taken shelter behind one of the dunes to collapse until night fell again.
But not today. Today he could not afford to stop even for the dawn prayer. He knew it in the ache of his bones and the relentless throbbing of his head. He was dying. And if he stopped now, even for this, he wouldn't get back up.
He could not begin to describe how tempting the thought was. How loudly his body begged him to let him rest one last time, how shrilly his heart tried to convince him he had already done all he could. He could lay here and watch the colors of the sky change, feel the warmth wash over him. He could give himself one more sunrise. One more chance to watch the beauty of it all before it was gone.
His feet slowed to a stop, despite his commands. A slow breath, in and out through his nose. He reached up with puffy fingers to fumble with his face cloth, loosening it until the linen fell free.
Nadeem turned slowly back toward the glint of the sunrise, and closed his eyes. He had both won and lost his own bet. He had lived for one more day. He would take that victory, even if…even…
Keep moving, Nadeem. Those thoughts are going to kill you.
Today he would either make it to the oasis, or his body would be slowly being covered up and buried by the ever-creeping drifts that surrounded him. Those were the only two possibilities left, and it was getting harder and harder to believe that he had any hope of the former.
Control of his body was slipping, and apathy dulled his thoughts more and more with each passing breath. And still he mumbled out the soft, broken consonants of the prayer he had been clinging to, words repeated so many times in the last day that they had become nothing more than foreign sounds devoid of whatever had once made them words.
The comforting lines he had known since he was a child fell from him in a broken, confused tangle of what they were meant to be. He hoped the gods would still take the whisper for its intention rather than its delivery. He was fairly certain someone had once told him they would. That they knew.
He couldn't remember their face. He hoped it had been Hanona. She had always been right about such things.
Keep moving, Nadeem. You have to take one more step.
He whispered a quiet little apology to the air before him, reaching out as if to gently cling upon the fabric of someone’s robes. His fingers closed over nothing, and he let out a shaky little breath as he pulled the imagined cloth closer to the ache of his chest.
He swayed, felt the knot of dry tears in his throat. But he knew crying was beyond him now.
When eventually he realized that the strength to continue on was slipping for good, he summoned one last, Walk, Nadeem.
His foot answered him sluggishly, one barely-there step backwards. He cracked open his eyes.
And stopped.
Far in the distance, slipping along the razor’s edge between waves and sky, a pinprick of black was making its way across the sand.
A mirage. It had to be.
He stared at it in doubt, blinking to see if it would fade.
He watched it for what felt like a lifetime, so afraid that if he looked away it would be gone. But as the minutes passed and the shape grew closer, a fragile hope began to smolder in his chest.
A ship.
His head was swimming. The mast rose and dipped over a bank, light catching flecks of metal. But he could still make out the shape of the bow, cutting across the tops of the dunes.
He didn’t have the strength to cry out. He didn’t have the strength to move.
They were coming straight for the oasis, straight to him.
He couldn’t—he...he…
...he stopped.
The sandship rose to the top of another peak, sail catching the light of the sun beyond. For a moment everything was dark, then the cloth rippled and his heart ground to a stop.
The vibrant, cobalt blue sails of an Al Qururaqin cutter shone in the morning sun.
He stumbled backward, and ran.
The ground gave away beneath him as he bounded down the dark side of the dune, slipping and catching himself when he hit the bottom. His heart was pounding as he pressed his back into the side of it and began pulling armfuls of sand over his body.
He barely managed to cover his legs and the lower half of his chest, limbs burning with exertion. Black spots swam across his vision. His breaths came shallow and ragged through split lips. Still he clawed at the sand until he’d covered as much of himself as he could.
If the ship hadn’t already spotted him, the dunes gave him a chance of being passed unseen. If they had...
He held his breath, straining to keep his gasps under control.
And then he heard it. Someone singing loudly enough for their voice to carry. The unmistakable shuffing of wood, the sound of voices calling back and forth to one another.
It grew closer until someone gave a sharp shout, and the sound of the sail straining at its rigging changed. The sandship was close—far, far too close—and it was slowing to a stop.
Something heavy hit the ground and he shrank further back into the dune. Then another, then more.
Too late he realized his mistake. As he lay there straining to stay calm, there came the petrifying moment when he remembered the trail of footprints he’d left along the tops of the dunes. The ones that would lead them straight to him.
The sand gave him nowhere else to hide. If he stayed here, buried or not, they would find him. Casting around, he caught just the barest hint of green through the split in the dunes.
He didn’t have the strength. He knew he didn’t. But panic summoned every last shred of energy into his trembling legs, and before he could think he pushed to his feet and stumbled into a run.
His feet pounded against the earth. All his vision was a blur as he slid around the corner of a dune and up the channel between.
Dizziness swept over him, and he gasped and shook his head to try to clear it. He scaled the next dune on his hands and knees, sinking deep into the sand as he sprinted for the shelter of the brush.
He knew the moment they’d spotted his trail. Strange voices rose into the dawn behind him, and when he couldn’t resist the urge to look back he saw the sharp rise of a mast against the sky.
Vibrantly embroidered bolts of sailcloth whipped and curled in the breeze, the sun’s first strands of light striking it from behind and setting the fabric ablaze. The blue sails burned against the pale of the morning sky, and dread smothered his thoughts.
He didn’t see the shale until it was too late. Something sharp speared up through the bottom of his foot, and before he could catch himself he’d gone sprawling across the outcropping and into the dirt. He let out a low groan of pain as he blinked the darkness from his eyes.
He'd collapsed at the edge of the oasis. Behind him a jagged shard of rock pointed in the air, covered in blood.
He struggled to his feet and stumbled into the bank of shrubs, barely slowing as he made his way deeper into the growth. His ankle kept trying to give out beneath him, the thick litter of sticks and twigs jabbing into the wound. Slowing him down.
He bit back his voice as he clambered over the thickest piles of stone he could find, hoping to every single god he could name that they would help hide his footprints. The distant shouts were growing closer.
He stumbled over a ridge and found a thicket of shrubs, and realized that the glinting just beyond was water. He slid down the bank into the spring, wading out into the knee-high water that spread out between pools of algae.
He realized then that there was no cover. None but the branches of shrubs that overhung the basin, clinging to the overgrown shore.
Without even stopping to savor the feeling he never thought he’d have again, he fell to his knees in the water and ducked beneath their low branches. Spines ripped at his clothes as he crawled toward shore, as close as he could get to the place where the water met the earth underneath their leaves. He wormed his way deeper into the silt until his back was pressing against half-submerged trunks and the surface of the water reached his throat.
He forced his shivering body to still, schooling his breath in an attempt to hide the sound. As quickly as the ripples around him faded into the reeds the sound of snapping twigs approached.
On the shallow ridge, less than a hundred paces away, a dark figure broke through the trees.
Nadeem forgot how to breathe.
As a boy, bright-eyed and impatient, the Mothers had spun tales of Al Qururaqin caravans, moving from port to desert port. Tales of four-armed demons with ashen skin as dark as the mud at the bottom of the Parattu, swords gleaming in their hands. Of monsters who steal boys away from their ships, taking them away into the blackness of their holds.
Stories of the ifrit.
He never thought he'd be cornered by one.
Nadeem may have been scrawny, but he was no short man—by the time he was twelve he’d already stood a full head taller than his Maaman, as well as half the men in his town. This ifrit dwarfed him. It must have stood three heads taller than he did, with such strength coiled in its body that he felt sick with fear.
It scanned the water, a beautiful and broad face silhouetted by the rising of the sun. Thin wisps of smoke rose from its shoulders, disappearing into the air. One of its upper limbs rested at its hip, blackened fingers curling loosely around the hilt of a sword.
As its gaze swept out across the bank and over his hiding place, he could only pray that it didn't see the impressions his feet had left in the algae.
An entire lifetime passed as the ifrit searched the grove, scanning the silhouettes of trees. So many times Nadeem was certain he’d been spotted, and yet the figure came no closer.
Then it turned, cast one more look out over the water, and went back the way it had come.
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Knuckles Show Thoughts
This is just an overview but here we go. Spoilers ahead.
Parts were a fun experience. I cringed so much during this show though
Really liked all the ex-GUN bad guys 😈
Genuinely enjoyed the first two episodes for the most part—particularly the evil humans trying to get Knuckles, and Knuckles' interactions with the other Wachowskis.
We didn't get enough of the Wachowskis 🥲🥲🥲
Pachacamac—WHAT THE HECK. I mean it was funny in principle, but also so weird??? I didn't know how to feel about that. I'm just gonna say that Knuckles was meditating and that's what he experienced, and Wade's vision was a fever dream. Wades bowling alley vision was so cringe.
I loved Wade's mission-impossible vision of himself that was hilarious and awesome 😂 Honestly that whole episode was just fun and cool.
KNUCKLES GLIDING WAS COOL
The writing quality REALLY dropped in the third and fourth episodes. They felt like filler and much more amateur in terms of acting direction and pacing. It felt like the human actors were asked to improv, but they were given way too little direction within which to improv, and then their stuff wasn't cut or edited through enough afterwards. The pacing was very off as a result, especially in the third one.
Genuinely hated Wade's sister for the entirety of the 3rd episode. However, I think a lot of her character's despicableness was again a symptom of too much improv and not enough thinking through her character's behavior in advance by the writers.
I totally thought Wade's sister was gonna end up having lied about her position in the FBI, or was gonna end up being a janitor there or something, because she wanted to impress her family and suffers from the same self-doubt Wade does. I think that actually would have been way cooler for her character growth.
The one part I truly loved in the 3rd episode was the Jewish folk music during the epic fight around the candles! :D That was by far the best part of the episode.
Wade's mom really grew on me by the end. I like her a lot.
Overall I enjoyed the last two episodes. THE BAD GUY LORE WAS SO INTERESTING. It was really cool worldbuilding! I wish we could have gotten more of that. The bad guys talking to each other about their motivations relating to GUN was one of the neatest parts of the series and it lasted for about 5 minutes.
I really liked hating Wade's dad (as I was supposed to). I was very suspicious of him from the beginning and honestly did not want him to have a redemption arc, and I was not disappointed. Westley my beloved he was fantastic.
LOVED how Knuckles secretly knew about the bad guys' plan to have Wade betray him through using Wade having him use his earpods that was so genius and made me happy
The rings becoming an endless loop void thing was cool.
Knuckles' fire abilities were not nearly as cool to me as they probably were supposed to be. I get they were a reference, but it changes things a lot in this universe lore-wise and I'm not sure I like that.
The ending was kinda cool, but it felt very rushed. Wish we could have seen that cool battle mec for longer, and that guy could have been a direct opponent for longer. And Knuckles passing out was angsty and dramatic! But it felt like that moment deserved a lot more time.
KNUCKLES' ARC WAS NOT FINISHED. Whyyyyyy did we not get a scene at the end where Maddie, Sonic, and Tails are frantically looking for Knuckles and they're super worried about him?? Knuckles should have come back to them all freaking out that they can't find him anywhere and it's been like THREE DAYS, and he goes up to Maddie and humbly explains to her where he's been (helping Wade) and that he's sorry he's left, but that he realized that he had somewhere to return to. That he has a home. That the Wachowskis are his new home. And he is sorry; he will go back to being grounded. And there should have been a sweet sibling moment and momma moment between them all where they hug or something ahhhh. Again, WHY did we not get this??? I must write a scene to fix it.
More about the previous point because I'm not done. In the first Sonic film, the climax of Sonic's arc was when Tom said "he was my friend", but the actual completion of that arc was when Tom and Maddie invited him to live with them and be their kid. With Knuckles, we only got the climax of his arc (Wade saying he had a home) and not the conclusion (returning to his family and home). We were cheated!
WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO THE GUY KICKED ONTO THE MUSHROOM PLANET IN EP. 1?
#overall verdict was that PARTS were fun… but I’m not gonna consider it canon because there was way too much weird and not enough resolution#knuckles tv show#knuckles show#knuckles series#knuckles tv show spoilers#spoilers#sonic movie#sonic wachowski#knuckles wachowski#sonic scu
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WIP name game, tagged by @pixiedane (thank you, by the way, I have been thinking I needed an excuse to do something in this vein).
I have SO MANY works in progress if you take a look in my google drive(s) so I am going to focus on multichaptered fics I started posting but haven't finished yet (since I loosely made a goal to complete at least one of them this year . . . though no promise that any of these will be the first thing posted in this year):
The Backup - I have posted 3 chapters and written a good chunk of chapter 4 of this canon divergence Veronica Mars fic but I am having some pacing issues even though I know where I want to end up (again why do I insist on trying to have plot that is important instead of just focusing on relationship stuff I am so bad at it) and when I actually did my season 3 rewatch for this, I ended up realizing I wanted to move the timeline around a bit (as in the canon divergence should have real consequences not just for Veronica's personal relationships but also the season's multiple ongoing mysteries) so I feel like the whole outline needs to be reworked before I can move forward.
k'war'ma'khon - I have 6 chapters posted so far of my Georgiou lives and is caught up on the middle of the house of Sarek drama some more Star Trek: Discovery fic. The original outline called for 9 chapters but we are looking at 13 based on the changes I have already made along the way (I know I have a revised outline somewhere but not where that is). Honestly I got stuck because next chapter which is at the heart/center of the fic is from Sarek's point of view which was intimidating.
Dragon Marked - I have written and posted 8 chapters of this Dany/Jorah fic but we are still in the rising action of what is an epic sized story that will majorly blow my previous longest fic of 14 chapters out of the water in terms of length when finished. I really need to find my outline because there is a lot of plot/worldbuilding that needs to be implemented and at this point my memory of what I had planned is fuzzy in places. I guess that's what happens when you tie your soulmark trope in with reincarnation, modern au, grand conspiracies, science as magic, and a large cast of characters.
I may post about some of my other unpublished in progress works as well but I think that is enough for this post.
Tagging: @phoenixwrites
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HELLOOOO LETS KILL OURSELVES OVER HERINES HARASAEON. evil of you to do this when im hungover i already almost teared up literally just seeing kiva have her own character tag. like those are my babies from my silly little head and people are creating beautiful things for them!!!! insanity. let's go:
"I just needed a plot device in order to make that boy talk about his feelings bc he only does it if he's homicidal or inebriated" another horrible day fighting the hella-rin allegations
"She never touches his skin, only his scalp, only when doing his hair." fuck the hangover i need a DRINKKK
ama. my best worldbuilding addition by far but also my mortal enemy
"Rin wants to venture into the realm of the gods, find which one is responsible for time, and hold a knife to its throat. He’d force it to turn back the hourglass and eat his words. He’d get on his knees before it and tell it that time itself, and every word spoken, and every word unspoken, must bend to the queen." this whole thing is quite literally some of my favourite writing of all time this is insane this is tattooed onto every inch of my skin i preach this from street corners i spray paint it on buses i-
THE WITCH HAS SHORT HAIR? INTERESTING
they're all so formal lmaoooo. down with monarchy but my harasaeons are okay ig
DRAKO AND AKILA MENTIONED IN A FIC INCIDENT 2 DEAD ONE STILL WRITING LETTERS
"He was born as an apology and he lives the life of a paragon. He likes to be responsible." nova your days are numbered. when i catch you
YOU EQUATED KIVA'S INFLUENCE ON THE PROCEDURE TO SUNLIGHT WHAT IF I KILLED MYSELF. AND ALL THE LANGUAGE REGARDING SHADOW/DARKNESS WITH RIN. MY LAST STRAW
"Her hand brushes a strand of hair back behind his ear, and he hears, more than feels, the kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll be right outside, baby-- baby.”" worst day of my fuckass life
KIVA OBEYS. I CANT DO THIS
clean clay is such a fun addition i love that. also love how official you made the practise of witchcraft bc that's EXACTLY what i want from it like it's literally like talking to any other medical professional
"He spends his time in the sunlight of the library, Kidaro napping on the windowsill, with political treatises, historical scrolls, and the occasional epic poem spread out around him like a hurricane, a method to its madness. He enjoys it. He was always a child with his head in the clouds. He does miss music, though. The palace can get quiet" MY BABY MY BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
RIN IS THE OBEDIENT ONE. KIVA OBEYS. DOG MOTIF HARASAEON IS THE BULLET IN THE GUN IM HOLDING
HELPPPPPP MARY IS KINDA GAGGING HIM HERE LMFAO I LOVE HER
HE TOLD HER ABOUT LILLA????? KING PUT THE VODKA DOWNNNNNNNNNN
"Royal blood, good for nothing but animal feed." NOVA. WHEN. I. CATCH. YOU
AND HE CANNOT ASK DRAKO. THEY'RE BROTHERS THEY'RE MAATUI BUT EVEN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WILLEM IS SOMETHING THEY CANT MAKE PEACE WITH
'would you still love me if I was a worm?' caught me SOO OFF GUARD IM CACKLING I CANT BELIEVE YOU ADDED THAT
"Rin had created a ten-step plan for the event that one of them met the same fate." HES SUCH A NERD I WOULD KILL FOR HIM
memory so bad i actually checked my kuserian dictionary bc i was like 'oooo ghost being translated to death-shadow is cool why dont i remember that' girl....
HAMMARIIIIIIIII. the way even her name made my stomach flip. what if i cried
got too immersed in the procedure and forgot to live react oops
"he would do anything if it meant he was doing it right" "It’s just that a firstborn is a war. A firstborn is a hurricane with a thousand buzzing wings. It is an omen seared into the back of all their necks, it is once-in-a-generation, it is a gift from the gods. And Rin is not one."
DID YOU. DID YO UFCKNING PUT EPIC OF GILGAMESH IN THIS. DIIIIID YOU FUCKING DO THAHFT. HOW LONG IS THE EYE ABLE TO LOOK AT THE SUN FROM THE VERY BEGINNING NOTHING AT ALL HAS LASTED HE'S BEEN DEAD SINCE THE BEGINNING IN THE STORY OF GODS AND KINGS YOU WERE DEAD BEFORE THE INK DRIED
drako's first thought only being to ask 'will you be okay'. frankly i cant take much more. is this how you guys feel when i talk about them because this is AWFUL
"There were myths, in the burnt edges of the kingdom, that said that there were only ever two Harasaeons. The queen and the heiress, switching places in a cycle like night and day. Hammari and Kiva, two stages of the same life, the snake’s egg and the hummingbird. And then, their reincarnations, Lugalia and-- who? The queen is dead. Long live the queen. It is a form of immortality. Rin shattered it." STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP
the philisophical conversation. is love a form of magic. the chasm of his birth. im going to GET YOU
"Please, Ama. You don’t have to love me anymore. Just remember how it felt when you did." THROWING UP BLOOD
that was. im a changed person i need 3-5 business days to think about this i need to call my mum i need to get drunk i need a fantasy witch to cut my tits off
omg hi!!! so true herines harasaeon group suicide girls night <3 and kiva has made her ao3 debut! she's girlbossing she's literally a debutante she is the queen of all time. yeah
-the witch does have short hair! she's from the east (where the monsters are) and yknow I figure that her powers are used for medicine, but if she didn't have all the safety things put in place (no sunlight, careful runes and careful chants) and just went hogwild on a monster she could basically Shigaraki that thing. monster hunting is her side hustle tbh
-the formal speech was fun for me idk. watched too much BBC Victoria with my mom and now I gasp like a gossiping old lady when I write the phrase "You have my permission to withdraw" bc it's SUCH a power-play it's so good.
-my days might be numbered but so are Rin's
-sunlight and shadow motif with nuance is always sm fun. me when characters are bright and carcinogenic. me when characters are invisible, shadows dogging their own steps, silent and beaten-down and elegant all the same. yeah
-“I’ll be right outside, baby-- baby.”" worst day of my fuckass life too tbh, that's the line that really clicked the whole fic in place for me. kiva loves him but not enough to change him. baby boy good luck taking care of yourself. etc
-dog motif harasaeons you will always be famous
-clean clay and also the oldest sigils Mary paints on Rin are cuneiform if that wasn't clear. mesopotamian aesthetic goes hard
-Mary DOES kinda gag Rin lmao. she's literally so Kanut-coded I can't stand her. she's like 'i won't throw hands with a child but i will permanently invert his worldview with some moderately harsh words and also disrespect the queen if it means showing him that there's someone who supports his evolution wholeheartedly'
-he cannot ask drako!!! grief is something the harasaeons can't stand i think. kiva ignores rin like an open would because she grieves him and lilla. willem is given the same treatment
-"would you still love me if i was a worm" is a tonal shift I wasn't sure about but I think it works. something about siblings defaulting to poking fun at each other when they can't stand the truth. their love must go either unspoken or mocked. they can only survive it with a little humor and a little grace
-rin is the nerd of all time and i love him for it
-i'm gonna be so real death-shadow meaning ghost is something i stole wholesale from Mando'a. like the language for star wars mandalorians. but yknow what the concept fucks hard and george lucas doesn't own the literal mistranslations of his peripheral conlangs
-"It’s just that a firstborn is a war." harasaeons when they have to decide between an insane warmongering eldest daughter and literally anyone else
-yes i did put the epic of gilgamesh in there. yes i was browsing Amazon Goodreads for good quotes in the middle of my economics class. dw about it
-drako asking 'will you be okay' IS how we feel when you drop the saddest lore of all time on us unprompted, yeah x
-Lugalia and-- who? The queen is dead. Long live the queen. It is a form of immortality. Rin shattered it." me when Rin ending the cycle could have been construed as a positive ending to the cycle of generational trauma and violence but instead it is a betrayal to his heritage
-"is love a form of magic" is also one of the central lines of the piece. i wanted to show the deep childlike core of Rin's pain. Tell me a story about how it ends where you're still the good guy I'll make pretend cause I hate this story where happiness ends and dies with you I thought good guys get to be happy I'm not happy. etc. you know how it is
tysm!!!!
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Siiiinnneeee, Cold Front broke my hheeeaarrrrtttt
thank you
Do you find writing from such a dark place affects you moods or dreams?
I'm glad you liked the story!
I was kind of wondering if anyone would ask me this, because the answer is actually the other way around -- it's not that writing it makes me sad, it's that I can't write this particular genre of sad depressing fic unless I, personally, am already sad. And also for this particular fic series it has to be the dead of winter, for the appropriate ambience.
So half the reason it's taking me so long to write more of this series is that I don't want to unless I already feel terrible and it's snowing. Otherwise, I'm just not feeling it. I try writing it when I'm feeling fine and I'm just like, "Nope, can't do it, this is too sad for me right now." I have to be in the mood, except the mood I have to be in is Bad.
And, I mean, luckily for me, I am not often that feeling that bad, but I think at this rate it will probably take me a bit to get to the third story. I think that, since from this point out, the plot will slowly be getting better, it might be the case that I can write the rest of it while in a better mood. But I suspect it will probably still have to be winter. Being very cold is important to my creative process for this one.
The planned fourth story in this series is basically going to be a h/c epic with a happy ending and I can almost definitely write that while I'm in a good mood, so that should be easier except for the part where it's probably going to be a very, very long story and will take a while anyway.
(I do have a couple of other WIPs hanging around for when I feel like writing sad things. The current one is another fic I also started writing for Kiyaar. It is an Execute Program AU, set in a universe in which Tony simply never got sober and is a more-or-less functional alcoholic and Steve is knowingly enabling him because the world needs him to be Iron Man. It's not going to end well for either of them. I got about 4,000 words in and then had to set it aside because it was Too Sad.)
(Honestly the only thing that has ever affected my dreams is medication. You know how they say side effects for some medications are "vivid dreams?" They aren't kidding. I went from someone who remembered my dreams maybe once every six months to someone who can remember what I was dreaming maybe five or six nights a week. They're mostly not bad dreams, either; it's just that now my brain comes up with increasingly intricate worldbuilding in my sleep, which is kind of fun.)
I will say that sometimes writing sad fic is easier in terms of getting something finished, because I don't need to worry about fixing anything, which adds a lot of words and complexity. Unhappy endings don't have that problem. I can just break everything and walk out of the room.
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i fucking despise being stuck on epic oc/art/worldbuilding ideas for 3939373 years as much as the next guy, but. man. the satisfaction that comes out of mashing multiple ideas together perfectly, even more so if it ties in perfectly with already-established crap that doesn't have to fucking change for it.
aka syrinq is going to yell about her oc worldbuilding for a sec and tell starfield and star wars and whatever other mainstream humanity-in-space sci-fi bullshit to suck her ass forever
anyway. imagine a sci-fi futuristic bozo fuckworld filled with swag robots only. now imagine one previously-existent idea, that scientists at one point, experimented with bacteria to see what they could do. like i don't know, grow a new whole ass beast.
now i want you to imagine a whole ass planet that i had initially written off as "the ginormous mining rig". more ideas, spots and cultures pending.
now, i want you to imagine the desire to make some kind of working subway system/underground city somewhere. and i think, wow, this could possibly go in the funny mining rig planet, because some areas are too extreme to terraform or need to keep the environmental hazards for minerals and meth or whatever.
and now i want you to imagine me turning into gru & his stupid whiteboard. i am laughing like a villain when i look at three separate ideas above coming together, thanks to the fourth swag idea i wanted to pull inspiration from for ages: The Smartest Slime Planning Trainways
now you see. my little science robots can use the already-existent bacteria experiments and expand on those- and through that, after years and years of funny and trivial and gross data. they let them fucking plan a subterranean hub, so they don't go blindly digging for tubers on the mining rig planet. of course this funny city-planning technology would need a stupendous name, but regardless.
sci-fi that isn't "out there" in terms of obscurity besides the usual scawy geometrical triangle of doom or green human aliens or transparent hologram interfaces. eat my fucking ass. forever
#sy.txt#i wrote 75k words on my ocverse and it still isnt 100% finished so i just gotta. i gotta sometimes#fuck with me bitch i'll eat your UNITED HUMAN NATIONS FUCKING ALIVE#THEYRE ALL NONEXISTENT AND DEAD IN MY OCVERSE. WOO!#sy's ocverse
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