themummersfolly
the mummer's folly
Always a work in progress. Always.
my Smashwords profile: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/themummersfolly
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my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themummersfolly/profile
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Nonverbal Art
alt. title: Art Nerd's Origin Story
Anyone else ever wonder why Thrawn's interest in art focuses so heavily on sussing out the backstory of the artist? Yeah.
I have no idea how pediatric therapy works in real life.
-----
Vurawn doesn’t need a doctor to tell him he’s different.
There’s the whole talking thing, for example. Vurawn doesn’t remember learning to talk, even though he remembers Vurika and Mom says he didn’t start talking until after that. A lot of people still think he can’t talk, apparently, because he doesn’t do it very often. He’s not sure what the point is. He understands just fine, and besides, half the time when he does talk people get mad or start acting funny.
A lot of grownups think that not talking means he doesn’t hear either; even Mom and Dad forget sometimes. He overhears them talking about him. For a long time Mom thought he was stupid. It seemed to make her happy, for some reason. He doesn’t feel stupid; but then, he’s not sure if stupid and smart are things you can feel like. Vurika was smart, and they took her away and Mom was sad. Maybe if he’s stupid, he’ll get to stay and make Mom happy.
The army man said he was smart, when he gave everybody that test-thingy at school. But then he got into a fight with Teni the next day and afterward everybody said he was stupid. At least until the teacher made them stop.
No, he doesn’t need a doctor to tell him he’s weird, but here he is anyway.
He kicks his feet back and forth under the chair while he waits and thinks about the marker set Dad said he’ll get if he’s good for the doctor. He hopes there’s lots of orange markers. Orange is his favorite color right now. At school, there are fourteen different kinds of orange marker in the marker bin; he knows because he counted. First he lined them all up in order, then he put them in groups of markers from the same set and lined those up in order. Or he tried to, before the teacher yelled at him for hogging the orange markers.
He hopes he can be good enough to get the markers. Even when he tries to be good, he always does something wrong without meaning to.
“Kivu’raw’nuru?”
That’s his name. He hops out of his seat and follows Mom into the back office.
He likes going to this doctor, honestly. She never gives him shots or gets mad when he does the thing with his hands to feel better. There are toys, and neat pictures to look at, and lots and lots of markers.
He wanders around the room, looking at the toys while Mom talks to the doctor.
“-test scores are high, but the teacher says he’s behind in his social development. He rarely talks, he never looks me in the eyes-”
Dad thinks Mom wants there to be something wrong with him, at least he said so last night. Vurawn doesn’t know why everyone wants him to look at their eyes; it makes him as uncomfortable as when he has to not fidget.
The grownups finish talking and the doctor comes over to where he is.
“Good morning, Vurawn.”
It takes him a moment, but he remembers there’s something he’s supposed to do when people greet him.
“Hi.”
The doctor asks him questions; he’s supposed to answer with his big kid words, and he does. The doctor is happy, he’s doing it right. Maybe he will get that marker set.
“Vurawn, I’d like you to draw your family for me. Will you do that now, please?”
He’s not sure why she needs him to do that, but then he’s not sure why she asked all those questions, either. He does like to color, though.
It doesn’t take him long to draw everyone who’s important to him. When he’s done, the doctor sits down next to him.
“Tell me about your picture. Who’s that?” She points at the picture that is pretty obviously Mom. One by one, she points to each figure he drew and asks about it. Mom. Dad. Himself. The neighbor’s tooka. Vurika. He doesn’t know why she wants him to talk about them; most of the time when he talks about things he likes, people act like he’s doing something wrong and he doesn't know why. But the doctor lets him talk, so he does. It feels good to talk about things he likes.
When he’s told her all about his drawing, she picks it up and takes it over to Mom. He listens to them talk, and with no one to tell him not to, dumps out the markers and begins sorting them.
“-normal cognitive development for a child his age. But I think part of the issue is he misses his sister.”
That gets Vurawn’s attention. He’s not supposed to talk about Vurika; whenever he does, Mom gets sad and all the other grownups tell him he should be happy she gets to serve the Ascendancy. The doctor keeps talking.
“You see how much detail he put into her portrait; he clearly still remembers her, and remembers her well. Even as young as he was, her removal had a profound effect on him. That might be why he’s having difficulty adjusting socially.”
She can tell all that from his drawing?
“And here- this is your neighbor’s pet. She turns up in a number of drawings he’s done for me, so she’s clearly an important figure in his life. He may benefit from a therapy animal. If you can’t have one where you live, there are programs you can sign him up for-”
Every time he talks about Flower the Tooka, people look at him like he’s crazy! But the doctor had looked at his picture and understood immediately. Is that the secret? Can he really get people to understand him by drawing pictures for them?
And if it works that way, maybe it works the other way around, too. Maybe if he looks at pictures other people draw, they’ll seem less weird. Maybe the world makes sense if you draw it.
It’s like he’s spent his whole life in a dark, scary hallway, and suddenly, someone in a room nearby turns on a light. He decides to move toward it.
“Mom, I’d like you to draw a picture for me. Will you do that for me now, please?”
He’s been good all day, not just at the doctor. When Dad comes home, he has the marker set in hand, and the first thing Vurawn does is take it over to Mom.
She looks surprised, and he’s not sure she’ll go along with it. But then she takes the markers and flimsi and starts drawing. To keep himself busy, Vurawn picks up the pieces of the gadget she was working on and starts arranging them in order. They’re all very different, and it’s hard to figure out what order they should go in. Vurawn likes puzzles like this.
He’s just figured out where the big shiny piece should go when Mom slaps a marker down hard, puts her face into her hands, and starts shaking. Vurawn jumps. At first he thinks she’s mad at him for playing with her project. Then he sees that she’s crying.
“I’m sorry, Vurawn- it’s ok. I just can’t. You’re ok.” She doesn’t look up from her hands. Vurawn stands on his chair to look across the table at what she’s drawn.
It’s a grownup kind of drawing, much more complicated than his sensible stick figures. The face that stares out from the page is that of a little girl, about his age. It’s unfinished; Mom put the marker down before she colored it in.
“I’m sorry I got upset, Vurawn, I don’t know why I did that.” Mom wipes her eyes. Vurawn is still looking at the picture.
“It’s cause you miss Vurika.”
Mom freezes. He’s not sure if that means she understands, so he tries again.
“You’re sad cause Vurika had to go away. You’re scared that I might have to go away, too. But if I’m stupid, I get to stay with you, cause stupid people don’t have to serve the Ascen’a’cy.” He frowns at the tabletop, choosing his next words. “I can be stupid for you, Mom.”
He expects her to be happy at the offer, but instead she starts crying even harder. Vurawn feels the panic start to well up in his chest. He’s done something wrong again. Mom is upset, and Dad will be mad, and he doesn’t know how to fix it because he doesn’t even know what he did wrong-
Mom leans over and scoops him up in a hug.
“You’re not stupid, you’re a brilliant, brilliant little boy. I love you so much!” Her tears are getting his shirt wet, and now they’re both crying. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re stupid! I just- I just want what’s best for you, even if you have to go away. My brilliant little boy!” She takes his face in her hands and makes him look at her. “If they chose you- I need you to remember. I love you so much, I’m so proud of you, and I don’t want you to ever look back.”
Vurawn doesn’t understand, but he nods his head because Mom needs him to. Then he leans into her shoulder and cries.
#i was trying to write something cute and then That Happened#star wars#fanfiction#fanfic#thrawn#mitth'raw'nuruodo#grand admiral thrawn#kivu'raw'nuru#vurawn#thrawn/art#cw: child loss#grief#child character#thrawn is autistic coded
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Brotherly Art
alt. title: Love Is Stored In the Infodump
This is the first of a three part series on Thrawn's relationship to art. He's such a nerd, I love him so much.
-----
People who meet Thrawn often think he’s quiet. People who know him, at least for any length of time, often wish he was.
Thrass understands the complaint, but he doesn’t share it. When his brother gets onto certain topics, the stiff poise and awkward reserve melt away; his eyes shine with more than bioluminescence, and he lays out his opinions with the enthusiasm of a child and the earnestness of a professor. True, no one else can get a word in edgewise. But Thrass has spent enough time in university to appreciate the free dispersal of knowledge by someone passionate about the topic. And Thrawn rarely looks so alive, let alone happy. Thrass wants to see him happy.
“-but in 68 BCA, you start to see a shift in the assembly technique, as though the makers’ perspective on the physical possibilities of their craft has begun to shift. The history books say they didn’t have any contact with outsiders until at least 50 BCA, but I think we can see from the pottery alone that the date of first contact can be pushed back by almost a decade. It shows up in other artifacts, but it’s most clear here that their whole conception of their place in the universe underwent a seismic shift-” Thrawn looks up from the zoomed-in picture of a potshard on his questis and glances at Thrass. “This isn’t boring, is it?”
Someday, Thrass reflects, he’d like to meet whoever told Thrawn his interests were boring. There’ll be an assault charge, of course, but he’s fairly certain he can talk his way out of the worst of it. “Not at all. I like hearing what you think.” His own questis pings. “Delivery’s almost here.”
“Ok. I have to use the fresher anyway.” A look of urgency crosses Thrawn’s face and he practically vaults the couch on his way. Thrass shakes his head. Trust Thrawn to get so wrapped up in a topic he forgets to pee. Thrass gets up to clear the table for their meal and brings Thrawn’s questis with him. When he sets it down, the jolt causes the screen to switch back on. He blinks. Instead of the potshard, the screen is a solid, alarming blue.
“Thrawn, I think something is wrong with your questis.”
Thrawn emerges from the fresher, still drying his hands. Thrass hands him the device.
“It’s gone all blue. If I broke it, I’ll replace it-”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Thrawn breathes a visible sigh of relief. “That’s just the lock screen.”
“You set your lock screen to The Blue Screen of Death?” In fairness, it’s not the strangest thing his brother’s ever done. Thrawn shakes his head.
“It’s a painting by Cli’ure’akoio, one of her Color Studies. I’ve got downloads of all her older work, this one’s my favorite. Most people just see skin tone when they look at it, but a blue this saturated and even is really difficult to produce outside electronic media. And look how she applied it, it’s hard to tell here but there are no visible brushstrokes. That’s what makes this picture unique: she’s taken something absurdly simple and executed it so perfectly it’s like she’s daring people to say they could do the same thing, openly flexing on her critics-”
And just like that, he’s off on an extended explanation of the experimental paintings of Cli’ure’akoio.
Later, as Thrawn scrolls through his questis looking for a particular painting, Thrass peers over his shoulder. Most people’s image files are full of family members, tookas, or scantily clad individuals they deny any knowledge of; Thrawn’s is full of art downloads.
“Do you have any pictures you took yourself?”
“Oh, certainly.” He pauses on a blurry picture of a stack of duracrete slabs. “I took this at the sculpture festival last year. I usually stick to downloads, though. I don’t take very good pictures.”
Thrass shakes his head. “Have you ever thought about collecting any pieces yourself?”
Thrawn doesn’t look up from scrolling. “I don’t have the room; I live on a light cruiser. Besides, most of these cost more money than I’ll ever see.” There’s a wistfulness in his voice that only someone who knows him well would pick up on. An idea takes root in Thrass’s mind; he files it away for later.
Thrawn’s shore leave is over entirely too soon, in Thrass’s opinion. He hurries to the shuttle station to see him off, careful not to drop the package under his arm.
He spots his brother on the edge of a knot of CEDF personnel, waiting for the shuttle to blackdock. Thrawn stands outside the chattering conversations of his peers, hands behind his back, waiting his turn to contribute to the discussion. He turns when he sees Thrass approaching.
“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” he says by way of greeting. Thrass envelops him in a hug.
“Had an appointment I had to keep. Besides, I have a going away present I have to give you.”
He takes the package from under his arm and presents it to Thrawn. By now the others have taken note and gathering around to watch.
“Open it.”
Thrawn strips the wrapping away and stares at the transparesteel case. Then he registers its contents and his mouth falls open. “You didn’t-”
“I told her what you said about her Color Studies. She says she’d be honored to have this piece in the hands of someone who can appreciate it.”
One of Thrawn’s peers looks over his shoulder at the painting. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s one of Cli’ure’akoio’s latest series, Studies In Color and Texture.” Thrawn looks like he’s tearing up. “Each tile is done in a different pigment and brush stroke.” He holds the painting in its case as though receiving a holy covenant. “This is for me?”
Thrass nods. “I had it mounted in a protective case. It’ll be as safe as anything on the ship- probably safer.”
Thrawn meets his eyes, a significant effort for him, Thrass knows. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
“It’s a good start to your collection.” A tone clangs over the loudspeakers, announcing the arrival of the shuttle. “There’s no time now. But when you get home, you’ll have to explain the series to me.”
Thrawn won’t be able to wait until his next shore leave, Thrass reflects as he waves goodbye. His next letter is likely to be several densely packed pages, expounding on the technical aspects and deeper meaning of the work of Cli’ure’akoio, fit more for a graduate level art history paper than a casual conversation.
Thrass can’t wait to read it.
#star wars#fanfic#fanfiction#thrawn#grand admiral thrawn#mitth'raw'nuruodo#mitth'ras'safis#thrass#thrawn/art#thrawn is autistic coded#short fiction
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im noticing that for a lot of americans “free palestine” has been an ideological motto and symbol rather than them actually believing in their heart that freedom is attainable and necessary
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Hell yes I'm interested
Do You Want To Read About Fictional Queer Historical Figures? A 20-Year Long Feud? Medieval Sex & Religious Drama? I'm Officially Opening A Woman of No Importance for feedback
If all those things sound like fun to you then you might want to take a peek at A Woman of No Importance! My "historical" spec fic written through the tired eyes of Cierra Dimmock, the findings of various historians, court documents, primary sources, wills, and letters.
Split into chunks of 25k words, there is no time limit here to read the draft or to even give me your feedback. This is purely for curious/interested parties who have been watching from afar as I write this story to finally be able to interact with it and the path I'm taking with it. You can find a summary below and shoot me a message if you'd like to read or join the hastily made discord for the wip and follow the link there.
The Early Ages were a fragile time for a country, and the long-gone kingdom of Vilsland had a fate no different from all the others. In trying to uncover the mystery of a lost country, one historian becomes captivated by the fates of two elusive figures. A Half-Year Queen and Ill-fated regent Princess Matilde and the solitary Duchess Cierra Dimmock, whose rivalry and hatred for one another is the only thing that still thrives centuries after their story is over. But one day, twenty years after the beginning of their feud, Princess Matilde relies on the pity and hospitality of her old enemy and spends the night in her house. What happens that night will change them both forever.
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Please don't forget Armenians
Today is Armenian genocide remembrance day. On april 24, 1915 started mass deportations of hundreds of Armenian intelectuals and community leaders, who were (most of the time) eventually killed. Armenian women and children were systematically r//ed and forcibly converted into islam. There were more than 2 milion Armenians in ottoman empire prior to ww1, 1,5 milion of them were viciously killed. Three millennia of Armenian civilaziation in eastern Anatolis was fully destroyed. Turkey today refuses to acknowledge genocides of christian minorities in early 20th century.
Do you know that mass ethnic cleansing of Armenians in ottoman empire inspired Lemkin to coin the term 'genocide'?
Last year in september azerbaijan allied with turkey initiated a war against Armenia. More that 5000 Armenians were murdered, thousands of Armenia families had to live their ancestrial land to not get murdered. There are hundreds of vids on internet where armenian p.o.w.s are tortured. Recently azerbaijan opened a "museum" displayind dead or dying Armenians and kids were allowed to visit it.
Please educate yourself on Armenian genocide. You can also donate here to help Armenia. Thanks for reading!!
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Stickers are here!
Designs by @kawaii-pigeon. (She's awesome, check her out.)
#boop#the boopening#the great boop war of 2024#etsy#stickers#cats#sales#please forgive my crappy canva edits
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Can I ask what you suggest we do instead of "vote blue no matter who" (re your recent post)? I'm not trying to start drama and I'm asking in good faith, I just don't ever see actual suggestions on what to do besides "disengage entirely," and I feel like that's not very helpful.
if you can't imagine political actions that goes beyond voting once every four years then sorry, but you're already disengaged
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So I thought a lot about this post, and I made a thing. @contentment-of-cats
Thrawn, age, illness, and injury.
Ahsoka talk below.
Fandom can be shallow and disappointing. First up, it's possible to dislike the representation of the character without shitting all over an excellent actor whose body of work is more than Disney can bound with contracts and Filoni's scripts. Disney got a full on smack in the face with Jon Boyega (who like Kelly Marie Tran got the shit end of the stick in 2 out of 3 of the sequels), you can bet that there are NDAs and 'you can't say mean things about us even if they're true' clauses.
Mostly I want to talk about age, illness, and injury and the way that people take it as a personal insult to their existence.
Let's start with the man himself. According to the Official Timeline (because everything eventually gets retconned and there is no actual canon) Thrawn was born 59BBY. He was 59 (two years older than I am now) when the space whales yeeted himself and as yet unknown other ships into the dark. Counting forward from the official timeline, he is at the very least 68 years old. He was in exceptional shape before the space whaling, yes. And no, he is not fully human, but is 'near human' - the Chiss evolved from human origins, their blue color explained in canon by something in the Csillan hydrosphere.
But let's look at this.
That is pain.
I'd guess about a 7 or 8.
Those tentacles are tight enough to hold him still, the twisting could induce torsion injuries to the spine and pelvis, cause spiral fractures to bone, dislocate joints, and compress/crush organs. Even with my Chiss physiology headcanon, I can't see anything but pain, crushing and twisting injuries, possibly with internal bleeding.
Additionally, I think that there could have been some kind of brain injury. While some of it could be the makeup and the lighting (or unlighting as the case may be), I think that the droop of one side of his mouth could be from nerve damage somewhere. My mother had a droop like that after a 'baby stroke' - transient ischemic attack.
He and Ezra were alone on the bridge, and he shot Ezra. Further, I can't see Ezra doing anything to help Thrawn after the credits roll. Once those Imps break through the blast door, he's going to be lucky to survive the fist minute.
In the great in-between that moment and the new canon?
So Thrawn, at the end of nine years is not just nine years older, but has managed to get his ship operable without a shipyard, not starve to death after the two years of consumables were gone, and not die of his injuries. (I've posted my theory that the survivors went into coldsleep to preserve the supplies.) Filoni has retconned bacta treatment into a magic potion - except when it isn't. The man is so inconsistent and wishy-washy that I could drive a 1960 Cadillac Eldorado through the smallest plot holes.
Y'all were expecting the buff blue daddy after all that. Elon Musk and 'dad bod.' I get it though, a lot of people invest in the concept of youth and health, go to extremes to hold onto it, even worship it - and denigrate the people who visibly age, are ill, or injured, or disabled. So many of the posts about Thrawn's portrayal in Ahsoka carry the stench of ableism and ageism. As for hating the character for his portrayal, blame Filoni instead.
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I’m so pressed about how evil this company is that I’m reposting Alex’s gofundme over here. They’re trying to bury Alex under so many legal fees that they have no choice but to give up their ip… and they’re only one of many many people (and pets!) that have been harmed by this company.
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Shipped off my first sale today! They come together fast when you stage the components.
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President Biden issued presidential pardons to any American or lawful permanent resident who has a conviction of cannabis possession on their record.
uh,??? holy shit!!! awesome!!!!
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Either Thrawn needs to stop being so relatable or I need to get tested
grand admiral thrawn here to wish you all a happy autism awareness month!! please be aware of his autism and not his war crimes ^_^
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About the AO3 "No Guest Comments for a while" warning
If you're not following any of AO3's social media accounts you might be in the dark as to what kind of "spam comments" have engendered this banner at the top of the site:
These spam comments have been posted about a great deal on the AO3 subreddit for the past couple of days. Initially they comprised a bunch of guest (logged out users) bot comments that insulted authors by suggesting they were using AI and not writing their own fics. Some examples, from the subreddit:
But it then escalated to outright graphic porn images and gifs being posted in comments, again by logged out 'Guest' accounts. Obviously, I'm not going to give examples of those, but between these two bot infestations, AO3 has clearly decided to act and has temporarily closed the ability to post comments for users who are not logged in with an AO3 account.
Unfortunately, this means that genuine readers who don't have an AO3 account won't be able to leave comments on fics that they enjoy.
If you are a genuine reader who doesn't yet have an AO3 account, I strongly suggest getting yourself on the waiting list for one. More and more AO3 authors are now locking their fics down to registered users only - either due to these bot comments or concerns about AI scraping their work - which means you're probably missing out on a lot of great stuff.
Hopefully guest commenting will be enabled again at some point soon, but I suggest not waiting until then. Get yourself on that list.
Wait times are going to be longer than usual at the moment, due to the current Wattpad purge [info on Fanlore | Wattpad subreddit thread], but if you're in line, then your invite will come through eventually.
Update: There's now a Megathread about this on the AO3 subreddit.
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Hi there!
I just came across your post about the pharma led guidelines (I am a family nurse practitioner) and I was wondering if I could get your sources for the statin info. I’ve been trying to convince my father to stop taking his as I don’t believe it has any benefit to him and as you were saying pharma is enforcing medical guidelines that put more people on medications unnecessarily. But he is a science/evidence guy and I am trying to build up some sources before bringing it up again. Your help would be so appreciated!
Take care and have a merry Christmas!
The info in the post is from a book called Sickening, by John Abramson, MD MSc. He is a statistician and did the math himself, though he does not mention which specific studies he took the data from.
I would direct you to a website site called thennt.com that does a very good job at breaking down the math and studies surrounding statins however, and they do cite sources.
Statins for Primary Prevention for People at Low Risk: https://thennt.com/nnt/statins-persons-low-risk-cardiovascular-disease/
Statins for Primary Prevention for People at Higher Risk Without Prior Heart Disease: https://thennt.com/nnt/statins-for-heart-disease-prevention-without-prior-heart-disease-2/
Statins for Secondary Prevention in People With Heart Disease: https://thennt.com/nnt/statins-for-heart-disease-prevention-with-known-heart-disease/
From these breakdowns, if your father is taking a statin because he already had a heart attack or stroke, the evidence suggests that the drug is worth continuing to take, however, if he has not had a heart attack or stroke, no matter his risk level, the risks of statin therapy (diabetes, myopathy, rhabdomyolysis) outweigh the benefits.
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Lactarius torminosus
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