#alara original writing
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The watermelons are at it again
So-called "environmentalists" at the Sierra Club are celebrating the fact that they won't have nuclear power.
Most "environmentalists" are like this, but in my experience the big ones like Greenpeace and WWF simply boo nukes and then go into what they want you to do to help stop nuclear power. This release from the Sierra Club goes into why, which I found moderately interesting to see what they're lying about.
Illinois -- Today, Governor JB Pritzker vetoed SB76—a bill that would have lifted Illinois’ decades-old moratorium on new nuclear power plants.
Responding to growing concerns about safety, waste and cost associated with nuclear power generation,
"Responding to fear, uncertainty and doubt that we ourselves have been stirring up," more like.
Everyone involved in writing this should be made to live in France for a year, in a house where every electrical device reminds the reader that France gets the majority of its electricity from nuclear power. The "concerns" are mostly ignorant hypotheticals. France has been getting the majority of its electricity from nuclear power for thirty years. France is an ongoing demonstration of the safety of nuclear power at scale. The waste goes in storage. The cost is an absolute non-issue, electricity in France is both cheaper and cleaner than in Germany.
In the absence of the 25-year moratorium, Illinois would be exposed to risk from long-lapsed rules, regulations and oversight.
So when are you planning to do something about the rules, regulations and oversight? Because I smell a rat here: each half of this will be used as a circular argument for not fixing the other one.
(Also, Illinois has active nuclear power plants, which receive regular oversight. What exactly is lapsed about them? Liars.)
Additionally, Illinoisans would bear the burden of exorbitant construction costs and growing stockpiles of hazardous waste with no safe, permanent disposal method.
Again: electricity in France is both cheaper and cleaner than in Germany.
The exorbitant construction costs in America are largely the result of the environmentalist movement choking the nuclear construction industry, demanding infinite mitigation and infinite paperwork review, with rules such as the ALARA standard.
Meanwhile the coal plants continue to operate because of status quo bias.
new nuclear’s exorbitant cost threatens to distract investment from Illinois’ plan for a clean energy future.
For those unaware of the context, Illinois recently passed a bill promising (in the completely unenforceable way of politician promises) to switch to 100% CO2-free electricity generation by 2050.
New nuclear power is the only way this is achievable. Nuclear is not a distraction. Everything else is a distraction from nuclear.
Illinois has a head start on this goal because it already has a good deal of nuclear power. Braidwood nuclear plant originally built in 1988 can generate 2400 MW, day or night. The biggest wind farm in Illinois is Radford's Run, opened 2018, generating... up to 308MW, if the wind blows right.
With billions of dollars poured into shiny new wind turbines, while new nuclear power plants have had a 25-year moratorium, wind power in Illinois is still providing less power than natgas or coal, each of which in turn is providing less than nuclear, which is both clean and independent of weather.
Who's the fucking distraction here?
“SB76 would have opened the door to increased risk, negative environmental impacts, and higher costs for consumers while jeopardizing our progress toward Illinois’ clean energy future. We applaud Governor Pritzker for vetoing the bill and ensuring that Illinois follows the roadmap laid out in the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act toward that vision for our future,” said Sierra Club Illinois Director Jack Darin.
A case study in deceptive phrasing. Building new nuclear power plants would have increased risk - by a minuscule amount, which would still be preferable to the alternatives, for example: the even higher risk of coal plants, the wishful thinking of wind power, and the other risk of people freezing to death for lack of electricity.
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OC Pride Challenge: Day 28
You can find the challenge here
Today's prompt is Reflect and I decided to write something for my girl Raevyn. She definitely is a person who reflects a lot and who has a lot to reflect about, considering the wild stuff she goes through every month.
Raevyn sat on her couch, a glass of Terran rum in her hand, staring out into space. Ever since she could think of, that had been her habit when she wanted to reflect. The beauty of space was comforting to her in a way that was hard to describe. In a way, it might be a sign that she had always been meant to go explore the universe. Her eyes wandered to her metal fingers and her metal feet put up on the cushions. For a moment, her mood darkened. The pain was still there, somewhere in the back of her mind. But she decided to push it away. These new limbs were a gift. Yes, the reason why she had them was awful, but it was incredible what her friends had done for her to allow her to live almost as if nothing had ever happened. These limbs were a technological masterpiece and she was proud to wear them.
When she looked back at the last one and a half years, it really had been a wild ride. She had experienced the crushing pressure of knowing what would happen and not being allowed to change anything about it. All those close calls she had originally only heard stories about, she had now experienced first-hand. But also her own story had repeated itself, for as terrible as it was, but also for as beautiful as it was. Because her being thrown back in time had given her a second chance. A chance for new beginnings, like getting to meet Alara and getting to know the wonderful person she was, yes, but also a chance to set things right. She still remembered the day her relationship with Gordon had fallen apart, their argument over Orrin Channing and the consequences of it. This time, there had been no argument. The whole situation had gone over so much more smoothly and safely. Even Gordon’s love for Laura had solved itself. Raevyn had accepted that he loved her but he had picked Raevyn over Laura all on his own.
Now, things would be different. New, unexpected.
That was when the doorbell rang. Raevyn could tell who it was just by the thoughts sweeping over to her alone. That energetic, perpetually-moving set of waves that she had grown so attached to.
“Come in,” she called, put down her glass and got up from the sofa.
The door swept open and Gordon came in, a smile on his lips.
“What can I do for you, hm?” Raevyn asked, taking his hands. “Need me to get you out of trouble?”
“I didn’t actually get in trouble for once,” Gordon said. “Can’t a guy visit his girlfriend without needing anything from her?”
“But you do need something.”
“A kiss.”
Raevyn giggled and kissed him, feeling his beard rub against her skin. That was a feeling she never wanted to miss ever again. Though the feeling of her hands in his was different now, his thoughts still felt the same.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Exhausting,” Gordon grumbled. “Can I?” he asked, pointing at the synthesizer.
“Please, I’m already drinking, go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He ordered a beer from the synthesizer, took a swig, then continued explaining: “I spent pretty much all day crawling through the Jefferies tubes, checking and repairing power conduits. My body is killing me.”
“Awww, baby,” Raevyn sighed. “Come on, let’s sit down.”
So, they let themselves fall onto the couch, cuddled together. Raevyn picked her glass back up, clicking it against Gordon’s beer bottle.
“So, how was your day, huh?” Gordon asked. “You seem like you’re in a good mood, so it can’t have been too bad.”
“Oh, it was stressful,” Raevyn remarked, taking a sip of rum. “There’s security issues all over the place since we sent Lieutenant Kelly back. We really fried the ship’s systems.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. But what’s got you smiling? I wanna know what makes you smile.”
“You,” Raevyn said sweetly. “I’m glad to still be here, that’s why I’m smiling.”
“Is this about the Kaylon attack again? Baby-”
“No, it’s not. Don’t worry, I’m not starting with that old story again. I’m just happy I didn’t get sent back in time this time around.”
“Oh,” Gordon gasped. “So you mean the whole situation with Kelly is how you ended up in our timeline in the first place?”
“Yup. She got pulled forwards, I got pulled back. But this time, I was smart enough not to get too close to the quantum accelerator and I got to stay.”
“Thank god,” Gordon said. “I don’t know how I’d spend my life without you.”
“That’s how I feel, too. I’m just glad I don’t have to start all over again because this… this is the best version of us I could wish for.”
“And what happens now?”
“I’m free,” Raevyn smiled. “No more worrying about things to come, no more having to keep the timeline in check. The future is ours to shape… and I’m ready. I’m ready to take the next step.”
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Excerpt from my original story
Hi to those who like winding stories about the Unseelie, I am writing a novel of my own entitled Gossamer Wings. This is an excerpt from somewhere in the middle/beginning of the story. I won't give too much away in this preface, just there is wlw romance and enemies to lovers as well as friends to lovers to enemies. All the intrigue! Enjoy!
No one Nothing is ever as it seems.
“I was lost in a labyrinth of darkness.” Alara clutched her aching head in both hands, the silken sheets still wrapped too tight about her legs. “Then up ahead I saw a tree. A tree of golden light surrounded by dark earth and what looked like ancient ruins.”
The blinding pain began to ebb, just enough for Alara to catch notice of the sharp breath Lithoriel took at her words. Soft hands traced soothing patterns along Alara’s back, she leaned subconsciously into the light touch.
“Have you had this dream before?” Lithoriel’s emerald irises glittered in the flickering candlelight as she looked into Alara’s wan face.
Alara hesitated. “Yes. But each time I’ve gotten closer, and this is the first time I felt this kind of pain.”
Alara watched as Lithoriel withdrew from her, pouring a glass of water and pushing it into her hands. Her friend’s expression was thoughtful, she sat silently as Alara drank the cool water gratefully.
“I’ve heard stories of such a thing, but only in far fetched myths of course.” Lithoriel accepted the empty glass back and tapped her delicate fingers lightly on the rim as she spoke. “The Tree containing all the Magick that was trapped and sealed away by the Protectors long ages ago. Perhaps you happened across a book about the Tree in the palace library and have been having dreams about it since.”
“I don’t recall ever reading about such a story.” Alara scrunched her nose in concentration as she tried to mentally rifle through her myriad studies since arriving in the Sanctum. “Darlannin might have mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”
“Darlannin?” Lithoriel tilted her head curiously, a curtain of long dark hair cascading over her shoulder, her gaze sharpening on Alara’s face again. “You’ve been spending time with him have you?”
Alara giggled at her Lithoriel’s turn of mood. “Yes, what of it? He’s nice enough, if a little hard around the edges.”
“You shouldn’t be seeing him.”
“Hmm, jealous are we?” Alara’s stifled giggling transformed into a peal of laughter as Lithoriel grabbed a pillow and launched it at her. “I’ll take that as a yes!”
“Oh do shut up.” Lithoriel cracked a grin of her own, reaching over to muss Alara’s already tangled hair.
The girls sat in silence a moment, broken only by the occasional pop of wood from the golden fireplace. Lithoriel chewed her lip a moment before she spoke. “You can’t trust anyone.”
Alara half-smiled, unsure if Lithoriel was jesting. Her freckled face looked serious enough, eyes studying her nails with feigned interest. Alara reached out and took her hand gently, lowering it to the plush bedcovers. “I’m sure there are people out there who you can trust, Lithoriel. I am one of them, I hope you know that.”
It felt a moment as though Lithoriel would pull away from Alara’s grasp, instead she squeezed her hand briefly. “As flattered as I am, you misunderstand me. I mean you cannot afford to trust anyone in the Sanctuary.”
“Even you?” The playful quirk to Alara’s lips slowly faded when Lithoriel did not return her smile.
A small fleck of gold amidst the verdant color of Lithoriel’s iris caught the firelight, sparkling like pyrate at the bottom of a river in sunlight. Her hand entwined with Alara’s spasmed, gripping briefly with a strength belying Lithoriel’s lithe frame. “No one. Promise me.”
Cold began to seep into Alara’s chest, she found it suddenly difficult to draw a full breath. She nodded, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand Lithoriel’s unexpected intensity. “I promise, Lithoriel. Don’t worry about me, I was summoned inside the Wall to serve as a healer. Nothing dangerous.”
Lithoriel withdrew her hand, looking away towards the dying fire, her mouth pursed into a thin line. “Good.” She rose, brushing the wrinkles from her heavy white nightgown, preparing to take her leave.
Alara knew she wouldn’t get another chance, so she spoke before nerves could catch the words in her throat. “Stay?” She watched with irrational embarrasment as Lithoriel turned back to her, looking puzzled. “Stay. Please?” Alara scooted over to make room in the canopied bed, patting the space beside her. “I don’t have those horrid visions when you’re with me.”
Lithoriel wavered a moment beside the bed, then she smiled. “Of course I’ll stay.”
She slid easily under the covers and Alara steeled herself to scoot closer to her welcome warmth. “Thank you.”
In answer, Lithoriel found Alara’s hand beneath the covers and entwined their fingers once more brininging them to rest atop her sternum. As Alara’s eyelids began flickering with sleep, she heard Lithoriel begin humming softly. A lilting lullaby, lovely and foreign to her ears, rising and falling in such a way it reminded Alara of the birds that would sometimes sing on the outskirts of the Grieving Forest.
When dreams took her, Alara wandered down the familiar path that led to that forest, both comforting and unsettling. Her dream vision blurred around the edges as she looked up to the familiar petrified oak tree standing sentinel at the border of the forest. Only this time she could feel the old dead tree looking right back at her.
#rough draft#gossamer wings novel#new book#novel wip#fae vs human#a book where the fae are allowed to be fae
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EnchantWorldle 1-card opener update: Sludge Strider -> Shardless Agent
i initially chose sludge strider on the basis of dividing years and mana value in half numerically, but doing that elbow work last night made me remember the division should be by population. which is different!
the median year for cards is 2012 (12,163/12,246)
(2009 cuts it 10,162/14,537; also note that 2009 has more cards above, meaning it gets worse as new cards release. also true for 2012 but 2013 doesn't have any cards w/ 2 types and 2+ colors afaik)
the median mana value is 3 (8,867/10,483)
(mv 4 cuts it 14,834/5,723. i'll mention here that these 'halves' don't all sum to the same number because it excludes ones that exactly equal the mana value/year. also the 'erring side' doesnt matter as much here cuz sets keep pretty much the same ratio as more cards get made)
subtype does in fact matter since 12.5% of all cards are humans
(13.6% are humans or rogues, less than 1% are either human rogues or insects, and none are insect rogues if you're wondering. oh and 3 insect humans. thanks delver!)
(oh also 54% of cards are creatures. so we may not need a second type at all, but getting artifact out early is handy because colorless is harder to nail, and most colorless cards are artifacts)
i also for a while assumed shardless agent came out in original alara block (and was gonna write this about nyx weaver), but turns out nope, its first printing was Planechase 2012. huzzah!
it keeps sludge strider's rarity and types, and it has a much more favorable year, mana value, and subtypes. what it loses is the third color, but a 2-color card is the converse of a 3-color (since there's only 5) so the math works out about the same. seems like a better option all around. ignore the fact i played pure/simple/hapatra today. i got a 4 on it anyway (even on a lost coin toss) but still
oh and i'll tag ya again @dimestoretajic
#enchant worldle#long post#do you think the guys who made this knows we're minmaxxing or whatever this is#and do you think we should tell em#or maybe like put a thread up in r/mtg
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( SINQUA WALLS, MASCULINE AGENDER, HE/THEY ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that TERRENCE WALKER is a THIRTY-TWO ( THIRTY-FIVE ) year old GRAVEDIGGER / EX-MUSICIAN that has been in Chicago for THREE YEARS. According to government files, they’re a MUTANT on LEVEL THREE with the power of NECROMUTANT PHYSIOLOGY. That must be why they’re DECISIVE and APATHETIC. If you ask me, they remind me of LONG, SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, DRUMMING FINGERS ON EVERY SURFACE, AND A WORLD IN SHADES OF GRAY. They are affiliated with NOBODY.
background.
( tw: death )
while originally born in london, terrence couldn’t tell anyone the first bit about it. their parents emigrated from england shortly after their birth, taking their family of three away from their homeland and off to america. in essence, they traded one large, bustling city for one of equal measure—san francisco. it was there that he, at the small age of three years old, met another child ( of similar circumstances ) that would change his life forever—ihsan kaplan. the pair took to each other like peas in a pod, completely inseparable almost from the moment they locked eyes. to terrence’s parents, it was a blessing. how many kids had struggled to find friends after moving such a long way?
there was only one, teeny problem—as puberty hit, terry developed a mutation. while it was incredibly minor and invisible to the naked eye ( quicker personal healing, so they thought ) their parents were terrified of the backlash they might get if it was revealed. he was instructed not to share it with anyone... not even with his closest friend, ihsan. but more trouble was brewing. only a few short years later, they were approached by him with fears surrounding a similar ( if more severe ) situation with alara. not wanting to betray their parents wishes but hoping that they could help, they admitted their own status as a mutant to him... pleading that he not let anyone else know. from then on, their duo became much more like a trio, with alara accompanying them more frequently.
as the dust of their childhood hardships settled, as they grew, so too did their interests—in similar directions. music was a passion and an escape for them both, and something they had fast talent for, but ihsan’s creative vision was obvious and unparalleled. with two other musicians, hinging primarily off of his songwriting, they ended up forming a band. as with all things, the pickup was grueling. they played in run down bars during slow hours, putting every bit of their energy into something that, for the moment, nobody else seemed to care about.
it was one of ihsan’s best songs that finally had them take off, away from their small indie beginnings and into the mainstream... more or less. they were featured on the radio! it was beyond any one of their wildest dreams, and thanks to his best friend, they had finally made it into a reality. it didn’t last. as their careers grew, ihsan became to pull back from them, retreating into a solitude that they had never seen in him, before. when this weird behavior grew erratic enough to threaten their work ( their dreams! ) terrence finally had to step in and remove him from the band... and implore that he seek out help.
they continued to dominate without their key visionary, but wilson red was changed forever. the sound, the writing—it was much more a collaborative effort between the remaining members ( and ihsan’s replacement ) of the band. but despite the heavy loss in their life, the hole drilled straight into their chest, things were going well... even perfect. once again, that didn’t last. a stage accident cut one of their tours short and ended with terrence’s critical injury, and later death—a death confirmed by every news outlet that could pump the story out fast enough.
and then... he woke up. only days later and in the process of an autopsy, long after the call had been made, he woke as if from a nightmare, insides splayed open for the two professionals ( the whole world, then ) to see. the incidents that took place after became a blur to them, but resulted in both people working on his bodily preparations deaths. something heavily covered up. suddenly, not only was he thrust back into the public stage, but he had no time at all to reconcile with anything that had happened. not his death, not his... mistakes, not the mutation he had clearly developed... it was somehow both as though he had never died at all, and all anyone could talk about. still, he was expected to return to his career.
but they couldn’t. everything was wrong, muted, and insignificant. only a month after his miraculous ( and terrifying ) return to the living, he silently quit his career and moved far, far away from anything he had ever known. if not to escape all those old expectations, then to give himself an opportunity to discover just what, exactly ailed him.
quick facts.
used to play in wilson red before dying and was a pretty significant celebrity because of it. fell immediately out of the public eye after their extremely publicized death situation.
still knows how to play the drums but he doesn’t actually play anymore. closest he gets is absentmindedly tapping on some surface.
“lives” in the barest possible apartment. without the need to eat or drink or sleep and no passion for decoration... well, there’s not much they actually need.
bi... ;)
distantly related to leo. <3
possible connections.
other ex-bandmates: or anything having to do with the process... you get the picture.
old fans: don’t have to be crazy stans ( ideally not :elmo: ) but they were pretty popular for a while there! so even casual recognition is possible.
neighbors: they’re really the perfect one themselves. no noise, hardly ever home... i don’t know, there could be something here!
anything else: just love me please...
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Wandering Stars
by Harleygraysonwayne
What if Superman didn't have a cousin but a long-lost older sister? What if instead of crashing on Kent's farm, she crashed in the Pacific Ocean? Alara Jor-El was sent to Earth to protect and take care of Kal-El but when their pods get separated their lives take very different paths. Without the guidance of loving parents, Alara is forced to not only take care of herself but also adapt to the ways of Earth, alone. Or is she?
Words: 35, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCAMU - Fandom, The Death of Superman (2018), Reign of the Supermen (2019), Justice League: War, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe (Timmverse)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Categories: F/M
Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Original Kent Character(s) (DCU), Original Kryptonian Character(s), Supergirl (DCU), Justice League (DCU), Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Barry Allen, J'onn J'onzz, Diana (Wonder Woman), Lois Lane, Wally West, Barbara Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth, Lex Luthor
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Original Female Character(s), Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Dick Grayson/Original Character(s), Clark Kent & Superfamily Members, Batfamily Members & Superfamily Members (DCU), Dick Grayson & Superfamily Members, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Male-Female Friendship, Kidnapping, Government Experimentation, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teen Crush, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, overprotective clark kent, Brother-Sister Relationships, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kryptonite (DCU), Independence, Superpowers, Lex Luthor Being an Asshole, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, he trys, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Main Character Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Superman and Batman are friends, Batman is brooding, Dick Grayson is Robin, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Teens being teens, superheros are still teens, Tags Are Hard, Author Is Sleep Deprived, This Is STUPID, Episode: s01e11 What's My Motivation, Why Did I Write This?, Canon: DC Animated Movie Universe | DCAMU (2013-2020), DC Comics References
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40763391
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A conversation I hear a lot lately
“Our choices are lemonade, or battery acid. Which do you want?”
“I don’t like lemonade!”
“Then you’re picking battery acid.”
“I don’t want that either! I want sparkling water!”
“That’s not an option. You can pick lemonade, or battery acid. If you don’t pick lemonade you get battery acid. Which one?”
“Neither! I want sparkling water!”
“You are not getting sparkling water. It is not on the menu. It’s not an option.”
“Then I just won’t drink anything!”
“Well, if you don’t pick anything, something will be picked for you and it might be battery acid.”
“I hate lemonade! It’s not even healthy! It’s full of sugar and calories! Besides, it’s got citric acid in it, so isn’t it basically the same thing as battery acid?”
“...no. No, it is not the same thing as battery acid. Not even slightly.”
“Well, it’s still terrible! You should pick the sparkling water! If everyone would just pick sparkling water, we’d all be happier!”
“Yes, if everyone asked for sparkling water they’d put it on the menu, but hardly anyone asks for it so it’s not available! Lemonade or battery acid!”
“They’re the same. I’m not picking anything.”
“...I’m starting to think you’re too stupid to live.”
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Black Cats
Before the story starts I feel the need to remind people that I am an atheist and I use Christian mythology the way I’d use Greek or Gaelic, ie, as fiction. But, if you’re Christian and you feel that this story reads like a genuine Christian fiction, then great! Mainly I just want to help to protect black cats.
***
In the Garden, there were no black cats.
Back then, before the fall, cats were brown, or grey, or white, or orange, or some combination. Like the dog, the cat had been charged with being a friend to humanity, their job to chase and eat little creeping vermin who might befoul food. Adam and Eve didn’t truly need such an animal; within the Garden, food was plentiful and grew everywhere, and when they wanted to hunt, the dog was there to help them with the chase and then with disposing of the carcass. So the dog stayed by their side, all the time, while the cat remained aloof, coming by occasionally for a pet before running off to their own hunt.
To be aloof, however, does not mean to be wholly uninterested in. There was a calico cat who loved Adam and Eve for petting her, and for being warm – for even though Eden was warm enough that Adam and Eve slept naked under the stars, everyone knows cats prefer even more warmth than that. The calico cat would lie with them when they were sleeping, her furry body warming the human she slept on and taking warmth from them, purring until she fell asleep.
Humans have free will, but God, who sits outside time and knows all, knows what they will do before they have done it. God surely knew the Fall was coming, and that humanity would need the cat.
One day the calico cat tried to catch a serpent for her meal, but failed. And because food was plentiful, the cat didn’t pursue. There were easier targets. The cat, of course, did not know that the serpent was a demon sent to tempt humanity.
After Adam and Eve ate the apple and were driven from Eden, cats and dogs went with them, among them the calico cat and her grey tabby mate. The cat did not show it, for she had her pride, but she was humiliated and ashamed at her failure. If only she had caught that serpent, her human friends would never have been driven from Paradise.
So she called on God, who in those days was more willing to come when called upon, and said, “I must atone for my failure. God, can you give me the power to hunt demons like the one that tempted my friends?”
“Your job is to hunt the rats and mice that will plague humanity,” God replied. “Now that they have been driven from Eden, they must grow food in the field, and the small vermin I have created will eat that food and despoil it with their droppings. You must chase and devour those small creatures to keep humanity’s food safe.”
“I understand,” the calico cat said. “But I want to do more, and my mate as well. I let the serpent be because I didn’t know what it was. Give me sight to see demons, Lord, and I will hunt them and harry them away from my humans as well. And give it to my mate, so that our kittens can do the same.”
“I will do more than that,” God said, and reached down and touched the cat on her nose. The white fur on the cat darkened to black. Her orange patches remained, but grown through with black fur, they were more like autumn leaves scattered on a bed of earth than a patch of orange flowers cut and laid out on white stone. The cat’s mate came to see what God was doing, and God transformed him as well, so instead of a grey tabby, he was now all black.
“You are my black cats,” God said. “For demons come from the caves of Hell, where very often it is dark, and they love to come out in the night. You have the power to see those demons for what they are, and you can hunt and kill them and drive them back to Hell. Any cat who is your descendant and has some of your black fur will have the power you do.”
And so for many generations, the black cats harried demons away from humanity the way that all the cats harried the mice and rats and shrews who would eat their grain, and the birds who would steal fruits from bushes on the ground. (What grows on the tops of trees is given by God to birds, as well as to humans, who have a power few animals do: the power to climb trees, and to climb back down. Sometimes, cats, arrogant with their power over the hunt, forget this and climb a tree to chase a bird. Many of those cats must be rescued by humans. The tops of trees were never given by God to the housecat.)
But Satan saw this and was angry. How could his demons reach humanity and continue to corrupt them and lead them to Hell?
Satan had a plan. What he knew, and what humanity forgot, is that a man who dedicates his life to God is still a man, prone to all of humanity’s temptations… including that of Pride. Men of God, believing themselves without sin because of their power to absolve the sins of others, were vulnerable to the whispers of Satan in their ear, just like any other man. And being proud, arrogant men who expected all to bend to their will… they did not like cats. For a cat has never been a human’s loyal servant, like a dog; cats do the work they choose, in their own time. They help humanity because it is the task God charged them with, not because they wish to please a human master. The dog sees his human master as God, but the cat has spoken with God, and knows the difference between God and man. Any man.
Men of overweening pride and authority do not like how the cat will not submit to them. It was the easiest thing for Satan to whisper to them, “Black cats serve the devil,” and for them to believe it, without proof. For why would a creature be coal black like a demon from Hell, and yet not be a demon from Hell?
These men were men of God, not hunters, or they would know how the hunter clothes himself in the colors of the deer in order to hunt the deer. And they were too certain of their own wisdom to consult anyone else.
By their decree, black cats were slaughtered, and other cats as well, and Satan laughed. And then he launched his greatest offensive against humanity since he sent the serpent. He sent demons to carry diseases and put them inside the bodies of rats. Too many cats had been killed; they could neither harry the demons away, nor kill the rats. And thus one third of all the humans who had heard and believed in the word of Jesus Christ died.
Eventually the plague ended, and humanity rebuilt, but there is no way to know how many stories, how many inventions, how many works of art, how many great scientists, how many people who bring kindness to all they touch… how many of them we lost, the people who were never born because their ancestors died of plague, all because men of God too easily trust the voice of Satan, and people with faith in God too easily trust men rather than the voice of God in their own hearts. All those souls lost, whether in the end they went to Heaven or Hell, are humanity’s loss, and a victory for Satan.
When lies are set among the people by those they trust, those lies never come to an end, no matter how often they’re proven untrue. Even today, there are people who believe they serve God, who serve the devil by harming God’s black cats, believing that the cats are evil, and not that the falsehoods they were told about the cats were.
But the cats remain loyal to the task they accepted from God. Black cats, tortoiseshells, cats with white bibs, cats with white socks… any cat with black in her fur can see demons, and chase them away from your home. All cats protect humanity from vermin, but it was the black cats who were made black by God so they can better stalk demons.
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What is a ‘Dragon’? (Captian Ed Mercer x Nadira) Part 1
Pairing: Captain Ed Mercer x Nadira (Original Female Character)
Series Synopsis: Nadira is the only Kakorean aboard the Orville and indeed feels lonely no matter how much she denies it to anyone who asks. So Ed decides to reach out to her, hoping to make her feel comfortable. It turns out they bond more than either of them expected.
Author's Notes: This was meant to just be a one-shot, but I didn't want to write a long one-shot, so this is now gonna be a little series. So have fun with that, I guess.
"Lieutenant Nadira's finished her report about the treaty. She says she sent it to you, Captain." Alara informed Ed, glancing over her shoulder to check if he nodded.
Glancing down at his comscanner, he received the notification of the document. He nodded "Yep, got it." This was going to be a fun report. It had been a few days since the Navarian-Bruidian conflict and... eventual agreement over Lopovius.
No one was daring to mention what had happened with Darulio, especially Ed and Kelly. They were both trying to bang the retepsian. At the same time, the lone Kakorean ran herself silly around the ship to accommodate the two warring species.
Ed's brows furrowed as he thought about it. "Alara," Ed spoke up, lifting his gaze to the xelayan as she turned to him curiously. "Has Nadira left her office today? At all?"
"I don't think so, sir. I saw her this morning for breakfast. But once her shift started, she hasn't made a move." Alara's brows as she recalled the movements of her friend, her lips formed into a hard line, slowly nodding her head, confirming to Ed and herself of her thoughts.
Ed nodded in return, shifting in his chair as he stared at the comscanner. His fingers tapped at the armrest relentlessly. The trail for them was smooth, which was excellent! But it left Ed's head unoccupied, left to swarm with random thoughts.
The Captain abruptly stood from his chair, telling Kelly that he'd be back soon. The blonde blinked, opening her mouth to question what he was doing, but he was gone before the words could be sounded. With a sigh, Kelly moved to the Captain's chair.
Ed's path was uninterrupted and swift, it wasn't long before he was standing in front of the Relations Office where Nadira resided. He tapped the large button on the screen beside the door. The loud beep earning a hesitant 'Come in.' from the woman inside. Ed stepped inside, looking up to greet the Kakorean.
Nadira's dark purple eyes shot up from her work. She blinked upon seeing Ed, her scaly ears pointing shooting up to match her expression. "Captain! What brings you here?" She asks, closing her desk screen to give Ed her full attention.
"Sorry, am I not welcome?" He asked, the corner of his lips quirking upwards in an amused smirk.
"Huh? No-No-No-No! I just didn't expect--" The Kakorean fumbled, standing from her chair and waving her clawed hands frantically.
"Nadira. It's alright, I was joking," Ed chuckled as he gestured for her to relax. He watched as she returned to her seat, her shoulders slumping along with her wings and ears. Ed found himself smiling softly as he observed the way Nadira would react. It reminded him of Earth's cats, it was cute.
"My apologies, Captain. Guess I've been tense lately..." Nadira admitted, scratching the side of her head sheepishly.
"Yeah... about that, uh, do you wanna get a drink? Later tonight." Ed blurted out, quickly shutting his mouth already kicking himself for just suggesting this out of the blue. Was she even comfortable around him? Yeah, he was too forward. Ed raised his hands to dismiss the idea.
"Drinks? With me?" Nadira interrupted, raising an eyebrow as she gestured to herself. "If I may ask sir; why?" She tilted her head.
Ed sighed, stepping forward to sit on the chair before her desk. Running a hand through his hair, he looked back at Nadira with furrowed brows, while she looked back at him with confusion and curiosity.
"I feel bad." He said, but Nadira simply continued to tilt her head, subtly requesting that he elaborate. "You, Alara and the rest of the crew were handling everything while I was..." He attempted to choose the right word for what happened, his hands coming up like he was physically trying to build the name. He ultimately huffed in defeat, then shrugging his shoulders "... you know."
Nadira's lips morphed into a smile, gentle and kind. She spoke softly, "Captain. It wasn't your fault. No one on this ship expected what happened. In fact, I'm still annoyed that I wasn't informed of this, or that the Union didn't know." She chuckled, then shrugging her shoulders. "But that's behind us. Well, we'll remember if we have another retepsian on board."
"Oh, god no." Was Ed's immediate reaction to the idea, surprising the Kakorean. Nadira snorted, swiftly covering her mouth with her hand, but it didn't stop her giggling from being heard.
"I'm s-sorry, C-Captain," Her wings unfolded from her back, moving to cover her face as she attempted to regain her composure. "That was inappropriate and rude, I'm so sorry!"
"Hey," Ed stood up, reaching out, placing his hand upon the blue scales of her wing and gently moving the limb away. "It's alright, Nadira. I'm not offended." He offered a little smile. Which grew wider as Nadira's wings to shifted away to show an embarrassing blush on her face.
Both sat in silence as their eyes shifted, eventually making contact. Ed cleared his throat, stepping back sheepishly while Nadira rubbed the back of her neck similarly.
"Uh, so are you interested in having a drink?" Ed asked, breaking the timid silence.
Nadira glanced to the side, then returning her gaze to her Captain. She smiled and nodded. "I am. It sounds nice. Thank you, Captain."
"Call me, Ed. See you tonight after our shifts. Mess Hall?" He asked.
"Mess Hall." Nadira confirmed, "See you tonight... Ed." His name came out hesitantly like she was testing it out on her tongue. Both smiled at the sound of it before returning to their posts—both anxious for the night ahead.
#the Orville#ed mercer#kelly grayson#alara kitan#original alien species#original alien character#the orville x oc#ed mercer x oc#ed mercer x nadira#nadira kakorean of the orville#kakorean character#ed mercer x ofc#been rewatching the series#inspiration just hit#so here we are#all just for fun#and my first time writing for the orville#oc x canon pairing#part 1#what is a 'dragon'? series#I don't expect anything from this#I've never written a series XD#The orville oc#the orville fandom oc#the orville fandom character
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Fair’s Fair: Reflections and Remembrance
This isn’t a post about the current contest. This isn’t really a post about card design in general. Perhaps this isn’t the best platform, but the fact that it’s a platform at all is part of why I want to write it.
I’d like to just take a moment and talk about the origin of the Fair and how things shaped up over the years. This month marks the closing of the fourth year that the Inventor’s Fair has been running. My very first contest that I ran was in March of 2018, a couple months after the Fair began. For a period of time in 2019-2020, I was running contests solo. And now, well, things are much more balanced, and much more populated. This is a meditation on change. If that’s your speed, strap in. If not, well, more power to you. Let’s go.
Last weekend, I found a book in the basement. It was a notebook from high school that I had populated strictly with terrible designs for a set I had envisioned that now serves to show me how far I’ve come. There were five factions of blue wolf warriors that milled, dragon corsairs that stole lands, a white blasphemous church, green centaurs with banding (???) and black artifact creatures that turned into equipment.
Few of these designs were good, but this little notebook was full of them. I had dreams of being a MTG designer, and honestly, I’m much more confident as a worldbuilder now but I think I could pump out a good card or two. Hubris, however, is always over my shoulder. As far as custom card designers go, I wouldn’t say I’m one of the best, and the thing that we tend to forget is that card design doesn’t exist in a vacuum in the real world. Every set is dependent on the set that comes before it, on data and values, on numbers that exist beyond anecdotes.
I was fresh off of Alara. I had no idea why fetchlands were valuable. I bought planeswalker cards for friends as birthday gifts irrespective of market price. And it was just a nice time. With more knowledge now, I’m running a MTG club at my place of business, and teaching them all the things I wish I had known about cards before I stumbled upon all the horrible little moments of trading value that wasn’t value at the time, of damaging cards, of play mistakes, of sportsmanship and lack thereof—and none of that makes me remotely qualified for this.
But we persist. I’m honestly shocked that this is the fourth year of the Fair. Are we gonna have a five-year anniversary? Ten, if Tumblr lasts that long? How many words have I written for commentary? How much have people actually read of that?
More importantly, where are my biases? This is the sticking point for judgement that separates design principles from contests. We’re biased creatures. I’m a biased person. I’ve very rarely rewarded a card with a winning position without genuinely liking it. To be a good MTG player, you need to have some understanding of how to play just about every deck, in my opinion. You don’t have to like it, but you have to understand it. That’s why my kids can play with goblin aggro on one side and blue tempo on the other: because I built them to have their own biases but with the option of more. I love combos. I love weird rules interactions. And all the same, not everyone likes that.
Complexity is a tricky mistress. Personally, I like the more complex environments and decisions. The kids’ club decks I built are full of mechanics they have to read and grok. They have to learn. Where is the psychographic principle there? When I come to the Fair, I want that complexity to stand out, but I find myself asking for stories, for more nuance in the flavor text and for art direction, characterization. Tackling that bias is a bit of a pain in the butt.
I might just not be a great designer. Creating splashy cards is fun and all, but there’s also the principle of building up from a single card, and you know what, not every card can do that. Poor old Wishcoin Crab can’t tell us much, can it? And yet, the card exists and persists. Because it’s a card that matters in its place, for reasons that I still don’t entirely understand, but I’ll let it slide—as if I have any say in its existence. No, I’m only the arbiter of arbitrary judgement, and the other question is whether I’m any good at that.
Hm. No, that’s not productive. Clearly I have to be good at something, or at least competent, to have gotten this far with this level of engagement from the custom card community. The fact that there’s a custom card community at all is pretty wild, and not without moments of awe. You all made this! You designed this! Every one of you keeps this going, and I’m riding along right there with you! After four years, there are familiar faces who have been with us the whole time. It’s a little intimidating, really. I can’t help but wonder for the veterans if we’re doing right by you in every post.
I don’t have an editor, but know when I need to wrap things up. Maybe this is time for some concise lessons learned.
Ease up on good/bad principles and look at intent. Everyone’s intent is to make a winning card, and to fulfill the requirements, but what does that actually look like? Weighing wording and principles can occasionally get the rightful “that’s BS” call from slighted contestants. I get it. Not every card can be a winner, but every card is submitted nonetheless and they’re weighed against each other. I don’t feel bad for having to judge cards. I know I should feel bad for judging cards strictly because I have to. No, they need nuance from the origin of submission intent.
Be kind, but firm, but overall kind. This is something I learned early on from someone that I occasionally respect. ... That’s a bit biting, but, the point is, I kind of know them, and I do actually listen. The internet’s sarcastic storm of pointless putdowns can be mitigated and should be for this kind of position. Like it or not, this is a place of leadership. Sometimes we talk down because we feel slighted or we know there’s more potential. But obvious mistakes aren’t insults. They’re mistakes. There’s nothing productive to be gained from assuming malice where the clear goal is praise.
Clear communication is the basis for respect. Assuming anything is pretty bad, but what about people’s assumptions of us? Both ways need to be clearly stated, from the side of the judgement and the side of the judged. There is literally no reason for me to be here except for the fact that I have the time, responsibility, desire, and apparently charisma (although that’s a presumptuous word) that lends itself to keeping people doing what they want and coming back here to participate.
Accept that games are important, and don’t overthink it. Why have I become so enraptured with this game? It’s deep, yes, but I can’t possibly articulate why. I’m not bad at actually playing MTG, though I’m far from a top-level player. But the game, even when I lose, scratches something in the brain that just opens me up like a coconut of good feelings. I think other people must feel something similar. Games are fun, and important, and both at the same time, and lord knows I have zero explanation. So I let the love take me to a place that’s four years in the making. I’m not planning on retiring any time soon. I love what the Fair is for everyone. I love having you all here. I couldn’t ask for a community that could possibly build me up more.
I think that’s a good enough place to end it. I hope everyone is well, that all is good, that we’re safe in our minds, bodies, and souls, and that you’re as glad to be here as I am.
- @abelzumi
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So, I commissioned @terracyte to draw a pair of my OCs and oh my god, did she deliver.
This is Ilaera Ruashe Auvrealylth (left) and Corvin Alara Neumeyer (right), the main characters from my original work, Songs of the Sea. Terra absolutely blew me away with how good this is - she came up with so many things without me even asking and put in so much effort doing the tiniest details that I thought might have been too much to ask for. I've had these OCs and been thinking about the stories and adventures I want to write them for two or three years, now, and it's absolutely incredible to see them brought to life.
Thank you so much Terra for drawing these two!
#@terracyte#art comission#original characters#so to describe the two of them#my beta reader called ilaera 'the soft lofi girl who wears oversized sweaters'#and corvin kinda tries to be the d&d bard stereotype - but fails horrendously every single time (he's also hilariously clumsy)#i absolutely love this piece it's amazing#terra is absolutely wonderful and so insanely talented and this just shows that#songs of the sea
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MTG Fantober - Week 1 (Part 1)
Fanwalker Profile
Liya al-Amundi
Age: 27 (Deceased)
Colour identity: Colourless/Variable
Race: Human
Plane of Origin: Melenas (Faiqas, OC)
First Planeswalk: Alara (Jund)
Abilities:
Liya’s own powers are limited to existing after death, and possession of people with spark potential. But within that scope, each person she possesses has their own colour identity and ability set. So it’s a random thing each planeswalk.
Proficiencies:
Liya was raised as an agricultural labourer, so she is aware of the efficacies of the seasons as they relate to crops, and best practices for optimal growth. With Melenas being a “traditional” sort of plane, she was also coached in home duties, and retains a lot of her skill in the kitchen. Since her ignition, Liya has also learnt to read, write, and do basic mathematics thanks to instruction while on Theros. No longer a pacifist, she was trained in swordplay and combat arts under the tutelage of the Abzan families, and received some advanced training by the Khan Daghatar himself. Unfortunately, this wasn’t completed so her technique has been ill-refined with solo practice, and is an oddly unique variant. Since spending time on Ravnica, she has started to learn more about the shape and scope of the Multiverse, and broaden her skill set.
Backstory:
On a far-off plane known as Melenas, Liya al-Amundi is no-one special. A wife, a mother, and an ordinary person just living her life. The Knights of the Hallowed Order maintain control between two warring nations, harshly judging any accused of using magic outside of their Order. As Liya prepares an evening meal for herself and her son, Anwar, an intruder breaks into her home and threatens her. Vasil Iashvili, a deserter from the opposing side of the war Liya’s husband Sadi had been conscripted to and killed in, demands sanctuary in return for only hurting her, not Anwar. Impulsively, Liya throws the boiling soup at Vasil’s eyes, and screams for help from the patrolling Knights. When they investigate, Liya tries to explain what happened, only for Vasil to lie, claiming Liya had attempted to blind him using magic, pointing to the burns as “proof”. Unwilling to listen, the Knights arrest Liya and sentence her to death for the use of unlawful magic. As she is led to the hangman’s gallows, she silently prays and offers Sadi and Anwar her love. The noose tightens with a snap. Liya opens her eyes to find herself floating in an unfamiliar landscape as plumes of volcanic smoke erupt in the distance, and dragons fly past unheeding her presence. A pulling sensation returns her to Melenas, where she sees her own lifeless corpse being treated like trash by nearby Knights. She tries to stop them, or at least distract them, but finds herself possessing one of them, a woman named Hadeel with the magic of ice at her disposal. Liya freezes the other Knight and takes her own body back to her village, where she learns that she can only possess living beings. After giving herself a burial, she assumes Hadeel’s role in protecting and patrolling the town, learning that Vasil had been a victim of mob justice shortly after her arrest. Eventually, Hadeel’s body gives in to the process of aging, and Liya persists, watching over Anwar as he grows, marries, and has children of his own (one daughter he names Liya, in remembrance) before passing away surrounded by family and friends. No longer feeling the desire to stay, Liya turns to the heavens, and planeswalks away.
Please enjoy this imagining of Liya, courtesy of the amazing MackinItHappen.
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Pt. 4
Characters: Alara & Mansion Residents
Tagging: @plumpblueberry @ihavenotfallenyet @lady-moonbroch @littlewitty @ladyhavilliard @miss-wish-a-lot @sakura-1819 @voltage-vixen @nad-zeta (Please let me know if you want to tagged/untagged from this series)
A/N: Alara is back to win over the tsun musician. Enjoy! Next chapter she is going to meet Jean!
“Good morning, Alara.”
Vincent was the first to greet the girl that continued to clutch onto the writer to avoid any of Leonardo’s attempts to speak to her again. The dining hall only held a handful of the residents, the others having gone about their day or had yet to rise. Spotted around the table was the Van Gogh brothers, both munching away on an enormous stack of pancakes, and another man that she’d yet to be introduced to.
He took a sip of his coffee, violet eyes never glancing in her direction.
“Why are you clinging to Arthur like that? If you aren’t careful, his strangeness will rub off on you.” Theo gave a little jab in between stabbing bites of pancakes covered with enough syrup to nearly spill off the edge of the plate.
A triumphant grin spread across Arthur’s lips as he patted her head with a gloved hand. “Leo gave her quite the scare and she came to me for protection instead of anyone else.” The detail of him being the only one present wasn’t necessary to his story. No matter the circumstances, he was the victor.
“I saved her from a collapsing pile of books.” Leo wanted to make things right but the fear radiating off her small body prevented that. Comte had informed him of her potentially temporary stay, but no amount of warning would have prepared him for how skittish she was.
“I’m sure that rising from the floor like a waking corpse wasn’t frightening at all.” The musician’s comment tossed out with irritation laced in it.
Snickers erupted from the others, drawing the glare of the pureblood in their direction. Leonardo had no retort to the snarky but accurate statement. Sebastian wheeled in a cart to serve the newcomers. “Please take a seat of your own, Miss Alara.” He placed a plate off eggs, bacon, and pancakes in front of the empty chair next to the writer.
Alara reluctantly released her hold on him to be sat on the cushy chair. No more time for frightful glances as she stared at all the delicious food right before her. The young girl couldn’t remember a morning when a fresh, warm meal had been given; leftovers of the adult’s breakfast, however little it was.
All chatter among the ones at the table ceased. The reminder that mornings of bickering and laughter weren’t normal for one among them. Alara attempted to wipe the tears from her face with the back of her arm, over and over as more drops slid down her cheeks. An overwhelming amount of emotion rushing over her. A soft apology slipped out between gasps of air.
Sebastian placed a reassuring hand on top of her head. “It’s quite alright.” He didn’t need to say more, those few words assisting in calming the child down. As she sniffled, the butler knelt to attend to her unbuckled shoes without comment. He’d be sure to keep a closer eye on her.
“Are you leaving already, Mozart?”
Alara turned her attention to the one in question. Violet eyes met hers.
“I’m going to start composing today. In peace, I would like.” Mozart gathered his sheet music and half-filled coffee mug. He didn’t quite understand why the others were so enamored with a young human who cried over breakfast.
No sooner had the musician left, did the others begin to file out one by one. Theo and Vincent going into town, and even Arthur had business to attend to. He’d lingered until she’d had her fill of breakfast. “I’m off to do some writing.” With a gentle smile and a wave, the writer disappeared into the mansion.
The girl gathered up her plate, the only piece left on the long table and carried it into the kitchen where Sebastian was filling up the sink to begin cleaning up. “Can I help?” Alara asked, letting her plate slip into the water and sink down.
“There’s no need for that. You are free to go play—”
“I like the hot water and soapy bubbles. I’ll be really careful!” She flashed a bright smile.
Sebastian carefully considered for a moment before relenting. He fetched a chair for her to stand on, drying the dishes as she finished washing. Her movements were slow and purposeful, and she attentively scrubbed each one. “You’re doing well. I’m very impressed, miss Alara.”
“I used to help Nine clean up. She’d put extra bubbles in the water because I liked to play in them after we were done.” The memory one of the few she had from before coming to France. Alara cupped a heaping mountain of suds, squishing them away with her fingers.
The term one that he’d heard in his studies. “Do you know where you used to live before coming here?”
“Turkey, that’s where Mama said I was born and we lived with Nine for a long time.”
Sebastian dried the final plate and stacked it upon the rest. Their reason for moving to France must have been because of the relationship with her step-father. He decided against addressing it further. “Thank you for your help. I’ll do the remainder myself. If you require any assistance, do not hesitate to ask, as a lady of the house—”
Hopping down from the chair, the girl turned her gaze up to the butler. “Lady?” Her head tilted in thought before she continued, “Miss Lily was the Lady of Estate. She was very pretty but had a scary look whenever she saw me. I was forbidden from going into the big house.” She could only remember once or twice when Lily came around their house.
“The monsieur was married?” Sebastian pieced together the picture that the child wouldn’t have seen.
Alara tapped her finger against her chin twice. “Mama said that she married beau-Pierre and that I should only listen to her and no one else. Aren’t married adults supposed to share a bed?” The staff would talk as if the child weren’t there, but her mother said they were liars.
Implications that a child wouldn’t understand. His original suspicions of a transaction shifted slightly. The mother must have been a mistress. That would explain why the mistreated child had been dressed in a silken nightgown. Should any discover his secret lover, the monsieur could cover it by saying he only cared for the two, a generous gesture to a young lady and child in need.
Behind that façade was a brutal man with a heart made of stone. How shameful, the butler thought. The topic began to wear on the girl before him. Her thoughts shown on her saddening features. Sebastian cleared his throat and retrieved a cookie from the jar. “For your assistance. I appreciate the company. Now off with you.”
Cookie in hand, Alara set off into the mansion. The further she ventured, the more convinced she became that this home was a castle. The hallways seemed as endless as the number of doors leading to various rooms. A library filled with more books than she could count. A parlor with many foreign games. Any open door was subject to inspection. Even though she was inside, the girl wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. It hadn’t been long since breakfast and yet her body felt oh so heavy.
Wandering back to her own room, a door previously closed now stood ajar. The polished marble floor beckoned her inside. A piano sat elegantly in the middle. The desire to press at least one key was overpowered by how exhausted the child was. Alara wobbled as she moved inside, only wishing to lie down.
Would they be angry if she were ill?
The staff of her stepfather would have cursed her for being a bother.
Out of sight behind the curtain that swayed with the breeze coming in the open window, she succumbed to her own weight, dropping to her hands and knees before laying flat on her stomach. Her lashes dragged downward, barely able to remain open. The cool tile soothing against her heated cheek. She could sleep in this very spot.
“Why are you lying on the floor in my music room?” The salty voice laced with slight irritation.
Alara could little more than squeeze her eyes shut in fear of a reprimand.
Mozart placed his sheet music on the piano bench before he approached. Was she attempting to play with him? He couldn’t waste his valuable time on silly children’s games. Narrowed violet eyes softened upon further inspection. Her labored breathing and rosy cheeks signs even he could recognize. “You’re ill. Why are you hiding in here?”
Her small hand patted twice against the tiles. “It’s cold.” A stark contrast to how heated her face was. The chill made the warmth a little more bearable. The girl started to lift her body up with weak movements. “I-I’ll go-”
“You can hardly stand.” He couldn’t understand. The frightful expression that had crossed her features after he’d asked a simple question and now the water pooling in her eyes as if he’d given her a stern scolding. He couldn’t bear to watch her struggle so helplessly.
Quite pitiful.
Stooping down, Mozart scooped the child up, awkwardly holding her slightly away from his body. “I’ll only escort you to your bedroom this once. Do not expect this kind of treatment from me.” The whole room would need a thorough cleaning since he had no idea what she’d touched. For reasons unclear to him, the musician wanted to be sure that the child didn’t suffer unattended.
“You aren’t upset with me?” Alara asked, the first words spoken to him since he’d tucked her into the bed. She had no memory of the last time someone had put her to bed when sick, always a nuisance to the staff.
“Why would I be? It’s not as though one can control when they fall ill.” How absurd. Children can’t care for themselves, so it’s only natural that an adult look after them when needed.
However, that couldn’t possibly be him.
But upon further searching, there was no one else about to do so. Neither Sebastian nor Arthur, the two most qualified to watch over the sick girl, were in the mansion. Giving a resigned sigh, Mozart pulled an armchair to the bedside. “I’ll only remain until Arthur can treat you.” He’d planned to practice a new piece today, but that could wait, he supposed.
Alara rolled over onto her side to see him better. She pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say. His emotions unclear, but he didn’t look angry. Their eyes met and Alara opened her mouth to speak before promptly shutting it.
“What is it?”
“What was your name again?”
“It’s Mozart, although you cannot refer to me as that in public.” Could a child her age even understand that?
A moment of silence passed between them as her brows knit, the child deep in thought. Rubbing her fists into her tired eyes, she yawned softly. Sleep calling to her, but pale green eyes flickered back to him. “Can I call you Mozzie?” She wiggled from beneath the covers, fighting the inevitable.
Violet eyes immediately turned away to gaze out the window, a hint of pink on his own cheeks. What a peculiar child. The genuine innocence of her question too cute to deny the question. “Do as you wish.” A quiet giggle was all the response he received.
“Do you play that piano?”
For a child that was sick, she had the energy to ask a lot of questions. “Yes.”
“Will you play it for me when I’m better? I like pianos. They make pretty music.”
Mozart reached out to pull the cover back up to her shoulders. She squirmed too much. It would be easier for her to rest if only she’d stay still. “If you’ll close your eyes, I will make time to play one song.” A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as she gasped and snuggled down, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would aid in putting her to sleep any faster.
He couldn’t bring himself to leave even long after she’d fallen asleep.
“Admit it, you like her, Wolfie!” Arthur teased the musician from the doorway after discovering him with the ill girl. He’d brought her a treat from his trip into town only to learn of her feeling under the weather. It was all too adorable to witness a softer side of him.
Mozart scoffed, abruptly standing to leave. “She’s incredibly helpless. I’ve lost a valuable day of practice.” He cast a glance down at the girl, resisting the urge to brush her hair away from her features. It hadn’t been horrible to keep her company, but Arthur surely didn’t need that information.
As he turned to leave, a light tug on his hand brought his attention back to the bed. Peeking up from beneath the covers, Alara flashed a tired smile. “Thank you for staying with me today, Mozzie. I feel better already.”
“Rest more or you’ll only end up ill again.” He had to admit that seeing her smile was relieving. The break from his normal routine may have even inspired the musician to create again. As he exited the room, Mozart stole another glance at their new guest.
Perhaps, it wouldn’t be entirely despicable to have her stay.
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikevamp mozart#ikevamp sebastian#ikemen vampire fanfiction#ikevamp arthur#ikevamp vincent#ikevamp theo#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp comte#she is winning over even the most tsundere of vampires#and so they met
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FRIGHT FEST - PLOT DROP
Time is fleeting, madness takes its toll...
As the clock struck midnight, a cold wind blows across the city of New York. Something is off, and the supernaturals in the area can sense that there is trouble coming their way. Before anyone can get a handle on what is happening, things take a turn for the worst. Enemies from the past, enemies from the present, enemies yet unknown, all surfacing from the darkness of All Hallow’s Eve. Amidst the struggle and chaos, the banshees across the city scream, but a voice cuts through the darkness, straight into the minds of the supernatural creatures. Those who recognize the voice may realize that it belongs to one Alina Khan, the original vampire and wanted criminal, but for those who don’t, the eerie message remains the same-
“It seems that you had been lulled into a false sense of security by the Council once again. You should be afraid, let tonight serve as a reminder of that. They cannot protect you.”
REMINDERS
Part 2 of the event will occur in game play on October 31st. OOC, the plot drop will start on November 6th. You will have until November 20th to post any event related starters, but feel free to keep your threads going after said date.
The tag for the event is still darkestevent5. Everything from pictures, outfits, threads, and etc. should be under this tag. Starters should have both the starter and event tag.
This event is mandatory. We ask that you please make event threads priority and everything else second and, as always, any big plots/injuries should be discussed with the admins before playing them out on the dash. If you have any big plots you want to do let us know.
As for anyone looking to bring in new characters, we will be temporarily pausing on acceptances during part 2 of the event for a week as to not have new characters coming in during a ton of plot drops.
SCENARIOS:
Each character has been placed into a group/scenario to deal with a villain or haunting of some kind. The scenarios and groups are listed below, but please feel free to write open starters/have threads outside of the scenarios detailed out below as well.
The Purging of a Bloodline: A siphon. Frowned upon, often not welcome in covens. That’s what Athena’s grandmother had been. Sometimes the gene skipped a generation or two, but the witches from that coven wanted to make sure they purged the whole bloodline. And so they sent Raul, tasking him with taking out Athena and making sure that she was the last of the tainted bloodline that tied back to their coven. Raul hadn’t prepared for a group, but he knew that he had to complete the mission and so when midnight struck he launched his attack on the pumpkin carving station where Maxine tried to help her sister and Hollis tried to avoid being carved up themselves.
A Rogue Vampire on the Loose: Memphis Wagner survived the robbery on her apartment when her partner did not. Of course, that had left enough loose ends for the robbers to be caught and one of them swore to get back at her for that. After escaping jail, he was turned into a vampire by none other than Alina herself, sending him to go remind those who had done him wrong in New York that they shouldn’t have stopped being afraid. He finds Memphis with Amelia, Jay, Amity and Alara wandering the fear maze and decides they’re going to play a deadly game of tag.
Trapped in the Hall of Mirrors: What was once an entertaining funhouse full of silly mirrors and wacky lights has become something much more ominous. Illusions of Alina begin to appear, reflecting through the mirrors, laughing at Devin, Selene, Theo, and Leo as they try to find her. Arturo runs in to try to help them all escape the building, only there are no exits, at least none that you can see. You don’t know whether the visions are real or not, but they feel too real.
A Flash from the Past: It’s surprising that Leyla made it this long, really. They’ve found you, Leyla Binici, in all of your past lives. Now they’ve found her in this one, set on killing her once again. When the clock struck midnight, two pairs were riding through the tunnel of love - Leyla & Jace and Isra & Faye - only for the ride to shut down and the vampire who has been hunting Leyla down for centuries to attack them. Emiri runs in to try to save her sisters, but by the time she arrives someone has already been stabbed. Now the question is who?
A Sacrifice for Power: Richard Hastings has appeared in town, sending Livia to tell his other children (save Leo), that he wants to meet them. He claims he was kept from the children over a misunderstanding, and that all he wants is to reconnect with his family. Only time will tell if that is true as Logan, Lorelai and Lucien head to the theater where the Rocky Horror Picture Show had taken place.
Friend of Foe?: Cole is magically drugged, and it removes any semblance of good left in him. He no longer worries about behaving for the council. He’s most intent on causing emotional pain as Juliana, Clover and Lucas are all trapped in the Haunted House with him. After all, a witch can heal injuries, but they can’t heal a heart.
A Vengeful Mother: Remi skipped town, stealing her mother’s car. Surely, she didn’t think that wouldn’t catch up to her. Her mother the succubus appears, confronting her daughter about her actions. Of course, it hadn’t been part of the plan to stumble upon Mirana, Mylene and Wesley with her daughter at the Haunted Burlesque Show, but when her mother burst into the establishment after the last show finishes, the anger in her eyes is nearly hot enough to start a fire.
Hungry Like the Wolf: It’s hard to kill a wolf and avoid someone coming to find revenge. Especially when you kill a wolf who had found the love of their life, one who is also a werewolf. A bonded pair if you will. Lola was, begrudgingly, spending time with her brother, Lysander, Kiraz, Eliot and Brycen at the Hay Ride when karma came back to her in full force.
Daddy’s Little Helper: It’s hard to escape the family business. Arthur Crane Sr. has sent one of his goons to the city to track down his son and sent his own personal message at the Paranormal Pastry Booth where Lark, Hayden. Lachlan and Ruairi are all situated.
Ghost Stories Far Too Real: Cecilia, Summer, and Camila had been sitting around the campfire on the beach, telling spooky stories and getting their tarot cards read. The strike of midnight brought the ghosts of their pasts to life, and they have to try and navigate the ghosts of their own pasts, while trying to help and support their friends.
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Miraculous: The Noir Rewrite
⸻
At the beginning of our universe, there was nothing but Oblivion.
There was only one force, one void, one god.
Until there were two.
⸻
Hello miraculous fandom!
I have taken the choice to rewrite miraculous because even though I love the show dearly, there are a few things that I want to imagine in different scenarios and I just love to write in this world.
I’m calling it “Miraculous: The Noir Rewrite” and it will be a 4-5 “season” novel-style fanfiction that semi-aligns with the plot of the show, with my own creative twist.
I have just finished the first episode, “Origins, Part 1″ and I hope you would be able to read !!
It is now available on ao3 [ here ]
There is a small sneak peak of this chapter under the cut!
Origins, Part 1
⸻⸻⸻
At the beginning of our universe, there was nothing but Oblivion.
There was only one force, one void, one god.
Until there were two.
Oblivion, the void, got lonely. Although he is nothing but a bodiless deity, being nothing but an all-consuming void, he felt very accurate to his form; empty.
Just as he thought about self destruction; the idea of folding in his little pocket reality unto himself, a light appeared, in the deep. On the other side of his consciousness, a split in the universe tore, and out came a beautiful being that contrasted against Oblivion’s emptiness. “Wo-Woaah-WOaAAHH!” A stunning mirage of navy and red stumbled into the darkness, a face of surprise washing across the face of the deity.
The Oblivion quietly asked who the beautiful figure was, stunned. When the deity gained her balance, she looked around at the deep darkness of the void. “My name is Alara, I am the goddess of light and creation. I come from a distant universe where life is already prospering, and a balance is not quite reached. I wished upon the void travellers to send me to a place without balance, and it sent me here. Who are you?” she asked curiously. Alara stood up upon the arm of the dark oblivion, her dark blue hair flowing around her ankles and her red and black dress flowing across the surface she stood on.
Through the shadows, Alara was able to meet with a man, with dark hair that blended with the shadows and a mischievous look in his green eyes, his pupils slit to see in his infinite darkness. “Call me… Blaise,” he decided with a smirk, scared to introduce himself as such a scary name like Oblivion. And thus, the yin and yang came together in our universe, to create our reality.
Overtime, the god and goddess ruled over the universe, keeping it at a balance. With every life, there is a death, and with every sunrise, there is a sunset. With every love, there’s a heartbreak, and with every wish, there is a sacrifice.
READ THE REST via ao3 [ here ] !!
#miraculous au#miraculous#miraculous fanfic#miraculous rewrite#miraculous reveal#miraculous adrien#mlb#miraculous ladybug#ladynoir#marichat#ladrien#alya cesaire#chloe bourgeois#miraculous character#reimagined#miraculous the noir rewrite
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Zenith: Chapter 68-71
Chapter 68
Andi remembers how Kalee gave her a tour of her home and bragged about how she’d be ruling the place someday. Andi asks why her and not her brother.
Oh, Androma. Kalee had laughed then, tossing her head back in that glorious, carefree way that made everyone around her want to come closer. You and I both know that a woman can rule better than any man ever could. And I’ll look twice as good doing it, too.
Shinsay, voices muffled as their heads are stuck up each other’s asses: This is definitely, 100%, one whole, bona fide, authentic, organic, home-grown feminism that we just put in our book.
Also ... take a look at that weak-ass description that’s supposed to show us how good and cool Kalee is. When she laughs (in a way that tbh have you ever laughed? be real with me now), people want to ... come closer?
Wow! That’s like saying ... when I scratch my face, people want to call their mom. When I brush my hair, people may spontaneously feel the need to take a slightly deeper breath.
Talk about low standards. Hey fellas, you ever see someone laugh and just kinda sorta want to approach them but not really? Yeah, that’s the stuff.
Andi thinks about how Kalee would’ve been a better ruler than her dad, who doesn’t even bother coming down to meet his tortured son because that’s how incompetent and evil and heartless he is. I mean, Andi doesn’t know that Valen is the result of rape, but still. Idk if I’m on board with how the book demonizes the hell out of the General but tried to make whatsherface sympathetic. And by “I don’t know if I am” I mean “I’m definitely not what the fuck is wrong with these people.”
Dex tries to make some conversation and Andi says that nobody befriended Kalee, that only super duper special people were CHOSEN by her to become her friends.
I’m ... not sure how this is supposed to be better. In fact, I’d say it’s worse?
“Kalee chose the people she wished to let into her life. I was honored that she allowed me to be assigned to her.”
“Honored?” Dex asked, raising a bruised brow. “Or damned?”
“I’ll let you know after we talk to the general,” Andi said.
I’m gonna fiking piss. “I’ll tell you whether this important life event was honor or damnation, but like, later, after we have this appointment, ok?” Why is this so funny. Have I fully lost my marbles?
Andi foreshadows some escape tunnels that are hidden all around the estate so Dex has a logical way to save them at the end of the book. I’m sure there is a more elegant way of setting that up, but I can’t be bothered to find one, so let’s call it acceptable and move on.
They arrive at their destination and Andi notices that Alfie seems bummed out. She muses that he’s “capable of far more complex thinking than she’d originally guessed,” which, DOY, but ok, and then thinks about how he’s saved her crew and remembered Gilly’s Marketable Space Pet, which implies he has some “understanding of feelings and attachments.”
That hamster wheel do be spinnin’.
The “head Spectre” comes out to meet them and ...
It took everything in her to speak as the truth struck her.
“Dad?”
DUN DUN DUUUN, it’s Andi’s dad! Also, “the truth struck her?” What truth? That it’s your dad? Was that in doubt? Did you really need a moment to connect the dots, to realize this is your dad? Was there a moment where you saw this man, who is your dad, and thought that this wasn’t your dad, only for the truth to strike and OH SHIT THAT’S MY DAD!! WOW HOLD YOUR HORSES EVERYONE I NEED TIME TO PROCESS THAT THIS IS INDEED MY DAD.
Tbh if you strapped knives to a roomba it’d have more charisma and presence as the protagonist than Andi. And let’s be real, more intelligence.
Yet another chapter ends on a pointless cliffhanger only for the scene to continue exactly where it left off!
You’re just full of surprises, Shinsay.
Chapter 69 (nice)
Andi recaps everything that she’s gone through after the Kalee crash up to the fight with the big alien dude who got deus ex machina-d by Alfie and how she nearly kissed Dex, which gets written as extra special, just so she can make this point:
But this...her father, as General Cortas’s head Spectre?
This might actually kill her.
And aside from how generically melodramatic it is, I can’t help but recall this, from chapter 7:
The man in front of her was a victim of her foolishness. Beside her was the man who’d rejected her love.
The two of them, together? It was nearly enough to shatter Andi.
Andi has the same reaction as I do when in a room with multiple men. Except in her case I think it’s supposed to be deep and personal.
Anyway, self-plagiarism aside, Andi thinks about how her dad was always there for her but then one day wasn’t when he didn’t support her on her trial and how conflicted she feels about him, both wanting to demand justice but also wanting comfort. This is actually quite touching and feels very grounded and realistic.
General Cortas rubs it in that Andi’s dad, “Comander Racella”, has been very loyal and hardworking since he was promoted after Andi’s trial. Andi hopes that her father actually hates the general and was forced to work for him as some sort of punishment for what happened with their daughters.
The general says the situation on Adhira has been taken care of, and when Andi asks whether Xen Ptera attacked because of Valen and her crew’s presence on Adhira, the general says that’s classified. For reasons? Idk. Seems pretty obvious to me, or maybe he just doesn’t know?
Dex tries to yap but Cortas flexes his big dick and reminds Dex that he’s a Guardian now, and Dex is too much of a baby to risk his regained status so he shuts up. This is all spelled out for us by Andi’s inner monologue, because we’re idiots.
The general claims the Xen Pteran forces have been wiped out, saying how it’s probably all they had since there’s few able-bodied and willing people to recruit for war after their planet got fucked, and when Andi presses him for why the attack happened now and on Adhira, he says:
“War never really ends, Androma. The desire for revenge is often too strong to forget.”
“War never ends ... But me and my crew totes ended that war just now. They don’t have any more soldiers so this war is over.” Makes sense, sir.
Cortas says that queen Alara is safe and will be at the Peace Summit, which Andi immediately tells him to cancel because it would be the perfect opportunity for another attack. Cortas replies by saying that Arcardius is impenetrable and that the day the Olen System successfully invades will be the day “stars fall from the sky” which is a very poetic and not at all natural way to say something like this, so it’s there for ... idk dramatic irony? He also reminds her that the Summit is important because it celebrates the peace after the war and the unity between the systems and I’m here like ... for a guy who says war never ends, you sure seem happy to celebrate a war ending and don’t believe one is going on right now. But I guess these characters just exist to spout meaningless yet deep-sounding nonsense at each other.
Dex reminds the general that they’ve done their end of the deal, at which point the general conveniently decides to prolong it out of nowhere and essentially forces Andi and Dex to be Valen’s bodyguards at the Peace Summit by holding Andi’s crew and ship and Dex’s money and status hostage. Thanks for ensuring the main characters are there for the climax, sir! Appreciated!
Dex and Andi leave in a huff.
Chapter 70
We’re in Lira’s POV as she reminisces about her childhood with Lon while he’s recovering from his near-death-experience.
So she sat by [Lon’s] side for endless hours, until the warm clutches of sleep stole her away.
She dreams about flying on an “Adhiran darowak” but then DUN DUN DUUUN Adhira below turns into Xen Ptera and it’s horrible!
“No,” Lira gasped. Her heart began to crack. Fissures spread through it, reaching cold fingers through every valve until Lira felt darkness stealing her away.
So the editor just left that in, huh? Just let Shinsay use the exact same wording in less than 200 words? Must’ve been stolen away by the editing fairy for editing crimes while reading this.
Lira is woken up by Alara, who got here so fucking fast she must be part-Sonic on her father’s side. You’d think a planetary leader would have more to do after a sudden and deadly attack on her home planet, but I guess Adhirans are so chill they’ll just let their leader fuck off to take care of her angsty teenage niece instead.
Lira says that she’ll do anything to make up for bringing Valen to Adhira, to which Alara says that the only thing Lira will do is “follow her heart,” which is sweet of her to say but also really convenient and makes this whole decision easier for her.
I mean, it’s nice that Alara is so supportive, but 1) narratively, it removes the conflict that was introduced only a few chapters ago 2) it makes Alara seem like she’s only there to be the supportive cool aunt and the Good Queen, without any expectations or wants of her own. Like, wasn’t the pressure from Alara something that gave Lira actual conflict? Idk. Seems too easy, is what I’m saying.
Lira didn’t let go of her aunt until the tears dried up. Until they sat down on either side of Lon’s bedside, held his hands and spoke of happier times. The beauty of a family that could come together, broken, and still find a way to become something whole.
You’re one step away from “Ohana means family” over here, Shinsay. Stop spelling shit out. WE. GET. IT. Also, whose narration is this? We’ve mostly stuck to third person limited, so ... is Lira thinking this? Is she thinking this shit while it’s happening? About her own family and situation? What the fuck?
Shinsay couldn’t keep their suspiciously sticky fingers out of their own writing and let it breathe so it comes out looking like God’s mistake.
Anyway, Lon wakes up and Alara tells him what went down on Adhira.
Chapter 71
We’re back with Andi, who just got out of a bath and is bitterly admiring her “private quarters” when she’s interrupted by DUN DUN her dad! He’s been waiting for her!
It’s all very tense. Before they can really start talking, though, we get a flashback. No, really. This whole tense reunion between father and daughter is interrupted by a lengthy flashback brought on by Andi watching her dad and Remembering.
Because Shinsay.
It’s a flashback to Andi in a cell, the day before she was supposed to be executed. Her dad tells her that her mother is "not well” and we find out his name is Oren. As they’re saying their tearful goodbyes, Oren slips Andi a key and tells her “Bay Seven. Tomorrow at dawn.”
The flashback ends with Andi’s cell standing empty the next morning.
Very cool and all that.
Back in the now, Andi rightfully chews her dad out for being a cowardly little bitch and throwing his teenage daughter under the bus for the sake of status. Something he freely admits to doing. He says he and her mother had to struggle to rebuild their reputation after she ruined it, and that he believes his daughter died with Kalee and that whoever he saved in the cell was already the Bloody Baroness even if she didn’t know it yet. Then he fucks off.
It’s all extremely silly. It would’ve been heartbreaking in any better book, but instead, it just feels like it’s tacked on for the sake of adding even more angst to Androma’s character. In fact, she’s not even upset at this. Instead she just carves some more tallies into her swords, dances some more with the dead, and then sneaks out.
No really, it’s written like a list.
She waited for the tears to come. But they never did.
Instead she sat alone, adding more tallies to her swords. Dancing with the dead inside her head.
Why is this so funny! I think it’s because both the tally-carving and the ghost-dancing is supposed to be these deep and haunted things she does that’s given a fair amount of weight and focus, but then it’s just written out like this like it’s just some generic routine shit she does like brushing her teeth or wiping her ass.
Yup, there she goes, doing her generic angsty shit one after the other. Emotional whiplash glossed over for the sake of moving the plot along. She’s in such a bad mental state that we simply MUST ignore it and move on.
Also, I want to highlight how convenient it is for Shinsay to already have Andi suspect and previously coming to terms with how her parents don’t love her before this confrontation. Like, we see her father save her tearfully, yet Andi has almost no hope that he still loves her. Or, she does, but when it’s squashed, she just ... accepts it? Because hey, she already processed that trauma years before! Makes it easy!
Wouldn’t it make it more impactful if all these years, she’s hoped that she has a home to come back to? That her father’s final act of saving her meant they love her still and want her to come back? And now she finds out that they never even mourned her loss? Wouldn’t that be heart-wrenching? And also add to the idea that Andi wants to return to Arcardia, both because it’s her home planet but also because that’s where her parents are? Instead we’re led to believe Andi wants to return, but when she does, she hates it here, she knows nobody wants her here, and she wants to leave immediately.
I seriously question the inclusion of this subplot and these characters. It adds nothing, changes nothing, and is just there to make Andi more angsty, which she already is, so ... why is this here lmao?
Shinsay really went “let’s squander all our potentially interesting ideas and concepts for the sake of more cheap angst and making our protag a cool emotionless badass who don’t care for no thing.”
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