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awiola · 1 month

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Normal update, winter XXIV

BUT IT'S NOT WINTER ANYMORE HA! Happy after-equinox to y'all. I planned to write the update in march and it's still technically march but, like, y'know, it's the first day of spring so it feels kind of late, ig? Not that it really matters here and I drew Morana on fire so all is good.

This is not completely [un]related but I'm trying to complete the 'draw sth for 100 days straight' challenge and rn it's going okay though I have to admit I'm being a lazy ass. But hey, a bad sketch a day is still a drawing. Not sure if that's the reason I wasn't able to complete my easter sketch dump but knowing me it wouldn't be finished anyway so whatever ig. AND YES, I WILL DRAW FATHER DAKI ON TIME. I planned to do it when I was drawing Agatha for thug in PE's style but oh well... You'll see both ot these pics on the first of april.

Also, like, in case anyone was interested, I finally decided to learn how to adult and might open comms this year? I tell myself I'll open them since, like, 2020 so yeah. Maybe. I think I will, tho.

Current game stuff

Mushroom game... Yeah... It exists and I technically haven't dropped it but yeah... Yeah... Tbh I even hid the link from my page but it's still public and all... But yeah... It goes into the "finally finish it in 2024, you stupid fuck" list - which, incidentally, is a mouthful so from now on it's gonna be "24 >:C" - together with Enmity and all.

Remember the golem game? Yeah, we don't see its non human form but I did technically draw it. Humanoids are, like, so last decade. It's called Sorcerer's golem and because I was not the lead, we managed to nicely finish it on time ✨ [Unrelated but I wonder what happened to the old unicode emotes, I need to look into it]. There's not really a lot I have to say here, tbh. It's short, it's wholesome, I'm totally not gonna go almost fully lineless again. I almost died and it was only two sprites. Never again proceeds to do that again later anyway.

Some time after, or maybe during, I can't really remember, I heard of Queer Vampire Jam and ofc had to join because I wouldn't be me if I managed to stop myself from joining yet another jam. It just so happened I both felt like shit and read something from my SF gods at the time so I commited this open ended 3k long story and it's, like, really obvious how I felt and what I was reading but then I decided to go yolo and publish it anyway, especially since I got an editor and made laby draw for me. Just had to publish it at that point. Enough about that, though - let's see what is it all about. Vani vani, because Tas tatum was deemed too lame of a name is a story about a [queer obviously] vampire who's kinda dead inside and it shows. I did say it was obvious I felt like shit. I'm not sure if it ended up being too edgy or not... I mean, I made it really obvious it's, like gestures vaguely y'know? I don't wanna spell it out but, like, the theme and everything there was so obvious I'll be disappointed in you if you didn't get it based on the pun title [the other two layers of puns there aren't as obvious] and the page/thumbnail. Unless, of course, you never heard about it at all which might be the case for people from other continents, I wouldn't know. I realise that doesn't say a lot about the contents but I mean, it's more of a progress update, I'm not actually trying to market anything here lol So whatever. It might be the only game ever where I put a whole nsfw scene of a sexual nature... Or it might just be the beginning of my unsexy h scene adventures. I even asked others how to make it as unsexy as possible and I hope I succeed. Going into gore or kink migh be sexy for some but boredom? Probably to no one who actually reads it. And, as is the case with my other personal games, not a lot of people read them. So I think I succeed at that. It's just the beginning of my SF adventures, though. Be prepared.

Now for the thing that might interest the potential reader the most because I saw the statistics and I bet all the follows are alse due to that - Impostor Syndrome. I know the page is pretty much silent but we are working on this. The common route received a lot of notes to make it longer, more cohesive, funnier and possibly better for all the gremlins that wanted a troll mode. Or at least that was the plan. Route wise we had something but after some consideration, it had to be basically scrapped. I won't go into all the details here as for why, but the rewriting of the outline is proceeding. Slowly cause it's kinda hard to find the best time to talk when you have multiple people from different timezones to consider but I think it's looking good. There's a sliiight possibility it might be a bit less vanilla than, like, your typical sfw otome but I don't think any vanilla lover would think it's too much or anything. Not nearly kinky enough for that. I think labelling it as having a soft dom MC might even be false advertising. Maybe. Hell if I know, I suck at tags. But yeah, it's proceeding. Obviously it won't be out during winter but I do think it will be finished this year. Most likely.

From other game stuff... I might have a monster type project made with Ameena for you. Or I might not. The designs are done but is anything gonna come out of them? We'll see. Leaving the possibility open.

I helped Doibats [who I helped with Cool Days before] with some art. This time it's an rpg, currently still in development. The cool art direction is still there so I think it would be worth a play when it's out. I think I'm more of a guest artist than an actual member of the team, though lol But yeah, check it out when it's done, I'll link it then.

Yet another game where I didn't do much - The Villainess Just Wants To Eat!! had its full, official release 🎉 Congrats to the team [check out their gui, btw]. I was mostly helping with this or that due to the usual jam team stuff that happens but yeah. Syd wrote afterstories for the charas, too. They're technically linked on the game's page, too, but you can read them on her tumblr, too.

I kind of forgot to mention, which also ties with my next point, but she hosted the Ossan jam again which I planned to join with my nano project about Wedding crashers but I overestimated my ability to write energetic chaos so... umm... Well, it's not dropped and while it won't get done in time for nano, I think I'll manage before Ossan jam ends. It started as a loose idea that kinda parodied romcoms and then the protag became an AAA battery but also aplatonic and then I got some concepts from tea[? - dunno how they want to be called 'officially' and this one seemed safe but?] and yeah. I'm trying to work on this, though. Even though I feel so stupid attempting to write an anthropologist. Should've stuck to writing mostly what you know like with Vani vani, eehhh... Wish me luck o3o

The last thing, or two, probably, is more of a... forecast? I happened to help with the editing of a certain 18+ otome game but I'm not on the team or anything so I can't really tell you more since I don't know how much should I reveal to the potential player but from what I've seen, the development goes well since they started making it for nano and might actually be finished before Otome jam ends so I'll link it then.

The other thing is that in an unspecified future I might have a yet another AAA battery protagonist, this time replacing the MC of an otome isekai story. I'm not sure how much I'll help with [maybe just editing, maybe we'd become a two person team, who knows] but it has a hight possibility of being developed eventually. No set dates or anything, though.

Pariiish noootiiiceees

Remember Tentacle jam and Insect [adjacent] jam? They're still happening, I'm just being lazy setting the pages up. The working date is from around the middle of august to the middle of october due to all the other jams happening at the time. I think it's the final date, though. It's come to my attention there's also the Monstrous Desires jam that also shares the timeframe almost perfectly so, y'know, why not make a game that lets you join all three of them? Just a thought.

---

My god, this thing became so long. Like half the length of my typical personal project orz I had to add all the Ps and BRs manually. Damn you, html shakes fist

Over.

#devstuff #vndev #awi update

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years

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If characters had a Game of Thrones style house banner and motto, what would they be?

Ooh, this is an interesting one!

House Bronwyn: "The Darkness Answers" or "Weapons in the Silent Night" - a silver wolf on a field of black, with a white blade piercing the background. Their house is known for operating as a kind of shadow military that influences and directs things from the shadows, and although the wolf has connotations of solitude and aloofness, they are actually extremely loyal "pack-animals" who form a tight-knit clan and unwaveringly answer the call of duty... no matter how bloody their hands may get from answering.

House Alder: "First in the Charge" or "Our Fury Shakes Them" - a gold lion roaring rampant on a field of red (so, yeah, Gryffindor I guess!). This one is fairly self-explanatory--the Alder house is known by others to produce some of the fiercest and most courageous warriors, though they also have a reputation for being brash and hot-headed. Alder soldiers are always sent in to "hold the line" and are infamous for never abandoning the field or retreating, even when it leads to certain death. "Our Fury Shakes Them" also refers to their propensity to use cannon-fire and gun blasts to destroy their enemies.

House Ironwood: "Our Roots Run Deep" or "The First, The Last, The Eternal" - a golden oak tree on a forest-green banner with a trim of autumn red. Their house is among the oldest and was once known as one of the most powerful military forces on the Continent, with a cadre of skilled Elven knights being produced by that house, but as time went on and the world changed, the house fell into semi-obscurity or became more known for its archival work and love of history, causing some to look down on it as a house of scholars. Whenever they try to invoke the promises and alliances of old, others roll their eyes at House Ironwood's unwillingness to change and adapt to the world around it. As a result, House Ironwood tends to isolate itself from other houses, swearing only to trust their own kind. Their current scion gets them into a lot of trouble for challenging an heir of a Norm house to a duel for slandering the name of House Ironwood, and then killing him in the ensuing standoff. This has led to military reprisals against House Ironwood, and they find themselves in a precarious position of being surrounded by enemies and having isolated former friends.

House Acquell: "Faith is a Shield and Love the Cure" or "Many Hearts Beating as One" - a Celtic-looking knot or a chain of hands interlocking around a heart. This house is looked down upon by more militaristic houses for being a generally trusting, pacifistic house. Its holdings are small and its lineage is quite new, but the house is beloved by its own people due to its scions working as healers, clerics, and devotees of charity, often seen among the streets of their city and passing out food and coin. House Acquell is an extremely religious house, and many of its heirs and heiresses join the Church to become priests and priestesses. The founder of the house was first canonized as a saint.

House Syndran: "Out of Cruelty, Justice" or "The Cunning Conquer" - a black crow or raven spreading its wings on a field of royal purple. This house was built on mercantile roots, but its influence now stretches far and wide, reaching into all matters of business, politics, intrigue, and even war. Its scions are famed for their ruthlessness and willingness to go completely scorched-earth on their enemies, and for their ability to lie and manipulate even nominal allies with completely straight faces. The house leader always bears a gold-capped walking cane. Although its military power is weak, it makes up for it with the host of allies under its economic control. You can always make out the Syndrans at a party by the cadre of serious-faced, dark-haired heirs staring at the proceedings like they're a play under watchful critique. Although not known for being friendly, House Syndran also prides itself on impeccable etiquette and manners.

House Trinaeste: "If I Am Not Free, Then I Am Dead" or "Many Skills, Many Virtues" - a black cat on a field of gold, with two crossed daggers in the background and a key lying at its feet. The "Many Skills, Many Virtues" motto is something of an in-joke, because this house is known for its willingness to train its heirs in even unsavory skills--such as thievery and seduction--in order to ensure their survival. Many heirs are sent to special training at a secret academy on an island south of Conte--though what they are taught there, no one but the Trinaestes knows for sure. As such, this house is shunned by many for its unorthodox values and behavior, and not much is known about the inner workings of the house itself. The heirs and heiresses all seem like empty-headed fops who love to chase skirts (or whatever article of clothing they so desire), so no one ever takes them seriously... but that's their mistake, because House Trinaeste actually has the greatest network of spymasters and intelligence operatives this world has ever seen. They apparently have a lot of bastard children or sometimes even unrelated orphans whom they happily accept into their house anyway, which is another reason why the other houses shun them. They also supposedly have some ties to seafarers and pirates as well as a fleet of ships at their disposal.

House Antiqua: "The Road Not Taken" or "The World to Roam" - a golden globe on a field of deep scarlet/maroon/magenta, though from certain angles, the globe can also like the sun or moon (or all three). House Antiqua is composed of just straight up scholars. Sometimes a second son or a third daughter goes into military service or serves in a great battle and makes a distinction of themselves, but it's never on the level of an Alder, Bronwyn, Aescar, or Stormbreaker. By and large, they're known as a house of oddly-attractive, well-born nerds, more fodder for marriages and families rather than candidates that could bring about great change. They don't really get much of a say in anything among the greater houses, but that suits them just fine. They're like the classic Jane Austen-style families where they just hang out and read books and entertain visitors sometimes LMAO. They are neither very rich nor destitute; neither isolated nor up in everyone's business. They are on friendly terms with most houses, but no one takes them all that seriously when it comes to important matters like war or politics. They are known to serve as advisors and consultants in times of need, however. Many of their heirs leave the house and travel across the world using secret identities when they reach a certain age; it's something of a cliché among their inner circle. They eventually develop strong ties to House Syndran after one son casually beats the Syndran heir in chess during a party.

House Aescar: "The Wind is With Us" or "It Is Us Who Fly" - a tan flying eagle with a serpent-like staff clutched in its talons, soaring on a field of light blue. House Aescar is known for its terrifying use of theatrics in order to instill fear into the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield. They utilize war paint, war chants and screams, and unsettling war horns in order to rev up their soldiers before battle. Like House Alder, they have a reputation for not having a head for politics; they'd prefer you to just point them at the enemy and let them do their thing, and they have little patience for the trappings of politics and diplomacy. If the Continent were divided up into wards where certain houses were in charge of defending the borders from invasion, House Aescar would be the guardians of the West; House Prince, House Ironwood, and House Bronwyn would the guardians of the North; House Stormbreaker, House Trinaeste, and House Syndran would be the guardians of the South; and House Alder, House Antiqua, and House Naveen would be the guardians of the East. The fact that House Aescar is tasked with guarding the West alone is a point of pride for its heirs and scions. The youth of the house tends to be charged with going on a pilgrimage throughout their lands to observe how the common folk live. They are expected to return with worthwhile thoughts or findings about how to improve the house or its holdings, and if their opinions are interesting and well-thought-out, they are allowed a voice in the house's governing council.

House Prince: "Keepers of the North" or "Righteous in Wrath" or "Darkness Flees Our Light" - a white spear with a white shield behind it, radiating rays of light on a field of black. Not much is known about House Prince, except that its current heirs are a set of twin boys. Its military force is known for being utterly loyal, almost to the point of fanaticism, and the house has close ties to House Bronwyn due to their proximity to each other. House Prince is known among the other houses for being insistent on keeping its bloodlines pure and marrying its heirs to the Hunter scions of other close-knit families or even distant cousins, leading some to joke surreptitiously that the house is "incestuous." At one point in time, the older twin heir of the current generation disappeared for a year or two, forcing his brother to assume the guise of both twins to prevent the house from looking weaker to its outside enemies. Certain heirs of the Prince House are said to be cursed with a mysterious affliction that causes them to fall into fits of madness and rage, especially at the sight of blood, and for these reasons, many of them live in reclusive isolation in their castle, rarely seen by the outside world.

House Stormbreaker: "Thunder and Lightning" or "The Storm Stands Vigilant" or "From the Stars We Came, To the Stars We Rise" - a golden, starry ship sailing on a teal sea as lightning splits the banner in half and a dragon swims underneath the ship. House Stormbreaker is among the most sought-after houses for its explosive military prowess and strength, affording it a lot of political and negotiating power. Its heirs and scions are known to be gifted with extraordinary strength and a strange knack for avoiding almost certain death, serving with distinction as battlemasters, generals, and occasionally as knights and champions. A legendary sword is said to be passed from leader to leader, with no one but those of pure Stormbreaker blood being able to even pick the sword up. They are also known as a clan of sailors and are able to deploy their own naval fleet to defend the coastline as needed. Although they have a ferocious, proud, and hot-tempered reputation, heirs of the Stormbreaker house are sometimes not taken seriously in matters of court due to their strange pink hair. Despite this, scions of House Stormbreaker are among the most sought-after candidates for marriage, as people desire their mysterious superstrength and magic to be incorporated into their own houses. However, for reasons unknown, the House Stormbreaker is extremely strict with such marriages, and arrangements are often made three or more generations ahead of time in a careful curation of the bloodline.

House Naveen: "Gold in Peace, Steel in War" or "Not Without Thorns" - a scarlet rose on a field of lavender with two crossed rapiers in the background. House Naveen is the most powerful and influential of all of the Houses when it comes to sheer political power, rivalled only by House Syndran. Its military strength is only better than average, but its holdings, wealth, and political connections are vast and storied. Its current heiress is infamous for refusing suitors and continually denying her father's attempts to secure a marriage, focusing instead on joining chivalric orders and continually maneuvering situations in House Naveen's favor. House Naveen holds the honor of being among the last houses to continue ancient traditions such as jousting and knightly tournaments, but it's their celebrations and social occasions that the house is truly known for. The Naveens are said to employ a spy in the servants of every house aside from House Bronwyn, Prince, and Ironwood. What they do with that information, however, no one knows. On the surface, the Naveen house seems to be largely magnanimous and benign... Interestingly, they have offered an extension of aid to House Ironwood to get out of its dueling problem, but so far, House Ironwood has not given a reply.

House Naveen has also been largely matriarchal in the past, something that still informs its power structure to this day. This makes it a target of scorn by other powerful and male-led noble houses (such as House Eddon, Auberon's house), but it's something that the Naveens flaunt proudly with the rose as their insignia!

#Shepherds of Haven #sorry I don't know game of thrones LGJRGJR I don't know why I felt the need to give backstory but I guess I always do #motto #heraldry #house motto #banner #banners #mottos #all characters #game of thrones #game of thrones AU #?#AU #i never watched it and didn't like the first book when I was like 14 so don't @ me with details i don't know anything!!#tw: incest mention

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

Video

youtube

‘today’s silm vocaloid song: clear sky engine (クリヤスカイ機関) by nyanyannya and hara ft. rin kagamine and zunko tohoku

this one’s about elrond, maglor, and the sudden non-ending of the world. you know that thing where you build an elaborate fandom video in your head for a completely unrelated song, but you don’t have the most basic art skills you’d need to make it a reality? yeah, i square that circle by writing them out. here, have an extremely long songfic/filk/commentary/thing

It was just another day, beneath a black sky

The bustle of camp churned on around me

I wasn’t paying attention to what my hands were doing

Dreaming of a shining star-lit sky

we open on elrond, living in a world about to die. the fëanorians were forced to abandon amon ereb years ago, and now the last of the host ekes out a precarious nomadic existence, raiding deserted villages for food and losing more people they can’t replace with each battle. they’re still doing better than everyone else on the mainland, though. their blades, at least, remain sharp

(the smoke from the fires of angband has risen to cover the whole continent in dark clouds. some of the sun’s warmth still gets through, and on good nights the star of high hope is still faintly visible, but the light-filled skies of old are little more than memory. all the survivors know that the end is near. it’s only a matter of time)

He’d broken a promise he’d made to us

So I was a little more annoyed at him than usual

He chatted with me while I worked to make up for it

And I made all my usual complaints

elrond and elros are at this point... i’d say very early teens? not that they had much of a childhood; the fëanorians are so short-staffed the twins have been doing odd jobs around camp pretty much since it became clear they weren’t going to run away. today elrond is taking stock of the medical supplies, less because he has any interest in the healing arts than because it’s a job that needs doing and everyone else is busy

maglor is hovering within talking distance, doing elrond-doesn’t-care-what. the twins’ relationship with maglor is extremely complicated to say the least, their mercurial hellbeast protector who scares the shit out of everyone else they’ve ever met and who has stood between them and the darkness for as long as they can remember. recently, he promised to stay with the twins while they did something difficult, but he failed to do so for a whole host of reasons, including getting into a two-hour shrieking match with maedhros at the last possible moment. elros shrugged it off, like elros shrugs everything off, but elrond is a simmering cauldron of adolescent rage at the best of times

which is why maglor’s checking on him, giving him an outlet for his anger before it can turn into despair. because what would be the point, in the end? they’re all going to die anyway. one of the reasons maglor’s resisted sending the kids to balar so hard is that no matter where they are, eventually morgoth will sweep down and destroy them all. there’s nowhere safe left, nothing they can do to protect them. none of this is even new, it’s a shadow that’s hung over them all since the twins grew old enough to understand this

so maglor and elrond chat, or rather elrond grumbles incessantly and maglor snarks as upliftingly as he can remember to. it’s a day like any other, nothing about it to distinguish it from the hundreds that came before or however many will come after. that is, until one of the lesser minions comes over, yelling, ‘boss! boss! you have to see this!’

elrond turns around. for the first time ever, he sees true hope on her face

“Have you finally grown tired of us?” I hissed

But in that moment excitement ran round the campsite

And someone cried out with joy

“The hour we thought would never be, the return of the light, has finally come to pass!”

far, far away, the hosts of the valar are landing on the shores of beleriand. disembarking from their luminous ships, clad in radiant armour and carrying blessed weapons, their brilliance pierces the dark fog that has settled over beleriand for so long. shining like the stars come to earth, the hallowed army of valinor begins its long march towards the gates of angband. far above, ships riding jets of light slice open the smog

this news - this unexpected, unbelievable, impossible miracle bestowed unto doomed beleriand, this chance that their enemy might actually fall - is the greatest thing anyone in camp’s heard all century. maybe in more prosperous times the host would have groused about the valar finally seeing fit to get off their asses, but in this world turned to ash any chance at victory is to be celebrated. the minions throw a massive impromptu party, of the kind they haven’t since before sirion. elros is right there with them, singing off-key and laughing as loud as anyone else. even maedhros cracks a tiny relieved smile

maglor watches the festivities from the outside, more genuinely optimistic than he thought he was still capable of. elrond joins him, brow furrowed as he tries to comprehend it all. they talk

“It feels like a dream I’ll never wake up from”

“What are you blabbering about now?”

elrond is voiced by zunko, maglor by rin. the song’s more of a dialogue than a duet, so i’ll be bolding maglor’s lines

The sheet of paper I held in my hands read

“The hosts of the West have come! Our world is saved!”

the letter’s from gil-galad, or at least his administrative apparatus. it’s not even that hostile; apparently the armies of the gods showing up out of nowhere to save them all from certain doom has him in a magnanimous mood. there’s some drivel about surrendering and eärendil and all wrongs being forgiven, but neither maglor nor elrond is paying attention to it

“Hey, do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Love and justice and valour and hope”

“I remember the sea of blood you drowned everything in for them”

elrond didn’t really have any formal schooling - nobody had the time - but he has managed to pick up a lot of stuff from the stories the people around them tell. that the fëanorians came to middle-earth for high noble ideals, and that it was trying to fulfil those ideals that led them into darkness, is something maglor told him once, when he was in a darkly honest mood

“Haha, that’s just details, everybody makes that kind of mistake when they’re young”

“Why are you like this?”

a mood maglor’s obviously not in at the moment, if he’s laughing off the kinslayings like this; elrond knows this isn’t how he actually feels about them. normally elrond would just roll his eyes and move on with his life, but things are different today

The camp was full of laughter, as if everyone had lost their minds

elrond’s not used to happiness. not full, unironic happiness, untainted by the shadow of their inevitable death, not from the fëanorians. the sheer jubliation suffusing camp is fundamentally alien to him, a child of a world about to end. he doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that maybe they won’t all get eaten by dragons. he doesn’t know what to do with the hope in everyone’s eyes

so instead, when maglor wanders away from the party, elrond catches him with a song

“What if for one more year, ten more years, a hundred more years, the shadow still reigns?”

“Then ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years, a million years later, we’ll see it fall! For certain”

“What if I lay out all one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight of the fears I carry?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine songs I can give to you”

maglor’s been teaching elrond how to do this, how to snatch someone into a world of music and throw your voice at them until one of you can’t take it any more. maglor wins this one, as usual; even if his song is incapable of anything but violence he’s got centuries of experience on elrond, enough to turn the sharp edges of his voice into blades in elrond’s hands. and that is what he’s doing, clumsy and harsh as he is; he’s trying to give elrond a reason to hope

elrond is the one who breaks the spell, dropping the melody, letting the music dissolve into the air. maglor flashes him a grin and walks off, humming merrily. elrond just stands there, still unable to understand

I’ve heard it before, it’s all anyone can talk about, even if I try to avoid it it stabs into my ears

cut past a decade or so, to well into the war of wrath. elrond and elros are in their mid-teens now. they’re still with the fëanorians, but these days the fëanorian warband is effectively an auxiliary unit to the amanyar army, skirting around the edges of that much larger force. for the first time in a long while, elrond and elros have regular-ish contact with people outside the fëanorian sphere of influence, mostly peripheral edain and the sindar who run messages between the camps. it’s different, talking to new people

(the sky is still covered with smog, but it’s gloomy grey, not oppressive black. the sun is faintly visible through it, most of the time. the rain is much less poisonous than it used to be, and on good nights you can almost see the moon. the closer they get to angband, the darker the clouds grow)

“It is as the gods have decreed, soon the darkness will be swept away and the Enemy will be cast down

And after the war in the purified world, we will all live happily together

Building new homes in a land unmarred by evil”

the people outside the host are much more optimistic about the future, for one. the fëanorian minions are happy morgoth is getting trounced but they don’t really talk about what comes after that, like they can’t imagine a world without war. the sindar, and especially the edain, on the other hand, have all these plans about the cities they’ll build, the arts they’ll perfect, the children they’ll raise in a world without danger. elros is super into this; he barely spends time with the fëanorians any more, he’s so busy going between different edain camps, making friends, planning for the future. elrond, though...

Even my twin knows what future to reach out for...

elrond doesn’t know what to do with any of this. the very concept that someday the war will end and the sky will clear and he’ll have a bright future is still something he doesn’t fully understand. even more, he’s defined himself for so long as not-a-fëanorian, now he’s regularly interacting with people who doubtlessly aren’t he’s having trouble figuring out what else he is. he’s stuck between people who are lowkey hoping they’ll die gloriously in battle and people who have been dreaming about what they’d do in a world without darkness all their lives, and he doesn’t know what he even wants, not really, not yet

so he keeps on living, just like he always has. he’s been promoted to sick tent dogsbody and is learning how to heal with song from the last minion who can kind of still do it. he acts as a proxy between the fëanorians and the more timid outsiders they keep running into. when he goes (or elros drags him) exploring in other camps, he keeps track of every new detail he comes across, in case it’s somehow useful later

and he keeps talking to maglor, with anger and spite and sarcasm and whatever other emotion he’s covering his uncertainties with today. maglor always listens, usually offers to help, and sometimes elrond even lets him. the fëanorian camp settles into a rhythm of buildup-fight-recovery-buildup-fight-recovery, so regular it lulls elrond into complacency. he takes the future he still doesn’t quite believe in one day at a time, until suddenly the ground crumbles beneath his feet

You say it’s to ‘fulfill our ideals’ but what you mean by that is ‘to sate our bloodlust’, I know

With their blades and teeth sharpened for battle, the kinslayers broke away from the light and disappeared into the shadows

there’s a whole mountain of reasons why, as they draw near to angband, the dregs of the fëanorian host abruptly peel off from the valinorean army and vanish into the night. they know they're more effective as a stealthy shock ambush unit, they’re somewhat concerned the amanyar will turn on them the second morgoth is no longer a problem, they're making one last desperate rush for the silmarils, all that and more. it’s not the first time they’ve suddenly packed up and left before their enemies can react, probably not even the first time they’ve done it to the hosts of valinor. there’s just one little difference

Leaving us behind? Leaving you behind

they’re not taking the twins. said twins only find out about this, like, the day before they decamp. maedhros’ justification is something about them not being able to support noncombatants on the march, but the twins believe that about as much as they believe that the fëanorians are doing this for any kind of hope. elros, of course, was half-planning on leaving anyway, going off to chase his own ambitions with his new edain posse. he copes with it pretty well, relatively

but elrond’s mind goes blank. once he thought the day they let them go would be the best day of his life, but now it’s come it feels so wrong, and this horrible coldness is seeping into him. in a flash of what feels like foresight, he suddenly knows the people who raised him will never come back. how dare - why - he can’t -

with a sharp desperate burst of sound that’s a surprise to even himself, elrond lashes out a song to catch maglor

“For ten more minutes, one more week, half a year, please, let me stay with you!”

“In a year’s time, ten years’ time, a hundred years’ time, we’ll see the starlit sky together”

“What if one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight times I begged you not to go?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine of your other wishes I’ll hear”

and elrond just stops. he lets the song trail off, staring at maglor. he’s in an incredibly weird mood, with something that could almost be compassion in his eyes

there’s only one way he can find out what’s happening, elrond realises

“In that case - !”

maglor was never really demonstratively affectionate with the twins. it would never have come off as real on his part, and they wouldn’t have believed it in any case. still, he supported them. he let them trail behind them, all but cling to the backs of his legs, in those first horrible weeks when they were terrified of absolutely everything. he taught them to ride and he taught them to read, how to reinforce a blade with nothing but song and close a wound with needle and thread. on the darkest nights, when all the world was filled by the howling beasts of morgoth and the wailing of the unhallowed dead, he held them tight and flared his own fires high, a warm smoky bonfire between them and the void. he answered their questions, and told them stories

and sometimes, he tried to be kind

“Sing me a lullaby like the flat of a blade”

“Which one would you like?”

“I want to see a flower that will still bloom”

“I know just the one”

“I don’t care what kind of monster you are! Just please stay with me, for even one more tomorrow...”

“...I’m sorry”

“What do you mean?”

“You were given your name because your parents wanted you to see the stars someday”

it was easy for maglor to justify keeping the twins when they didn’t have a future. the shadow of death blotted out the sky, so why not hold them close for whatever little time they had left? no matter where they were, the void would soon claim them all

except it didn’t. in the end they were not forsaken. the sacred light came out of the west to burn away the darkness and finish the war he once thought they could never win. the hosts of the valar have gotten farther in decades than the noldor did in centuries, and soon enough they’ll cast the enemy down and release the world from his terrible maw. and then the future the free peoples dreamed of will stretch out before them, full of possibilities beyond measure

and that’s why maglor has to let them go. the magnificent people that elrond and elros are already becoming will only wither among hopeless kinslayers who have nothing left but the sword. to flourish into their full glorious selves, they need to be with people who dream, who can travel towards the future alongside the twins with light hearts and songs on their lips. maglor refuses to let his own darkness drown the last people in the world he does not hate. elrond deserves so, so much better than maglor is capable of giving him. he deserves to see the stars

hearing all that, there’s only one thing elrond can say

“You can’t even keep one miserable promise! Don’t pretend like you’re my father, kinslayer!”

and that’s the last elrond sees of maglor. the fëanorians vanish in the middle of the night, leaving elrond and elros (and about half a dozen minions who are taking their last possible chance to get out) behind. elros takes up with his edain buddies and starts making contacts and forging alliances. elrond winds up in gil-galad’s orbit, surrounded by people who are very understanding about how awful his childhood was, which just pisses him off more. he doesn’t throw tantrums or refuse to work, those aren’t luxuries he was raised with, but he spends a fair bit of time spurning every bit of sympathy and aid he’s offered and trying not to cry himself to sleep

with time, though, he finds a place. it starts with círdan, the first person who believes elrond about what his time with the fëanorians was like. then he befriends erestor, and then gil-galad starts actually respecting the way elrond feels, and then he gets officially taken on as an apprentice healer. he starts learning about his own ancestors and their peoples, and reaching out for stories he never knew could be his. as the final battle of the iron hells begins, elrond is doing... better

and soon, the hope that no one in beleriand once dreamed would be fulfilled becomes a reality

And then, as if it had never held power, the darkness was cast down...

they win the war. the armies of angband are crushed. the peaks of thangorodrim are torn down. the prisoners of the deepest pits of the iron hells are freed. the forces of evil are scattered to the four winds. morgoth, the fallen vala himself, is defeated and captured and bound with great chains, unable to ever hurt anyone again. the precious remnants of the light of the trees, the remaining two silmarils, are recovered. the dark clouds evaporate, and for the first time elrond can remember, the sky is perfectly clear. the war of the jewels is finally over

elrond has grown so much since the day he first heard that the hosts of the west had come. he still can’t quite believe it

They held a great celebration beneath a star-speckled sky I’d never seen before

“The world is saved and we are freed! Evil has been vanquished forevermore”

The triumphant voices of the generals poured out over the victory feast while the stars shone true above the happy ending

the soldiers of valinor and the people of beleriand (what’s left of them) throw a truly massive party. it’s still tinged with their grief over everything they’ve lost, but the atmosphere is primarily one of ecstatic relief. they’re alive, and they’ve come out the other side. dwarvish tailors dance with high maiar, humans who don’t remember the moon get drunk with elves who remember cuiviénen. even after the official festivities die down and people start hashing out what they want to do next, the general mood remains buoyant and cheerful. at long last, they live in a world without danger

none of it feels real to elrond. gil-galad’s talking about building a kingdom on the other side of the blue mountains, elros and his grand edain alliance are trying to bully the maiar into letting them set up on tol eressëa, and elrond feels so disconnected from it all, like he’s watching someone else’s life. he’s happy the enemy has been overcome, of course he is, but he’s not feeling the overwhelming joy everyone else is. he can’t let his guard down yet, something is still wrong -

Except he hasn’t come back, they haven’t come back, where did they go, what have they done?

The word raced around as fast as the wind, giving me an answer I never wanted to hear -

where is maglor? the fëanorians broke off to fight the war their own way, but the war is over now, where are they? they were so happy to hear that the amanyar had arrived, he can’t imagine them not thrilled to see the enemy they hated more than anything else fall. in the warm afterglow of victory, it feels like even their sins might be forgiven, and they could finally go home. they have nothing else left; why wouldn’t they take that outstretched hand?

but nobody’s so much as glimpsed their flag since some time before the final battle. elrond quietly assumes, perhaps even hopes, that they all died fighting, and yet he can’t shake the cold dread crawling up his spine

elrond has mixed feelings about the silmarils, and doesn’t particularly care to be near them. by the time the news of their theft reaches him, maedhros and maglor have already fled into the night

Still driven on by their oath, they turned their blades on their kin one last time

“And stole away the hallowed light”

Yes, that light which sank all of our lands beneath a deep dark layer of corpses and ash

all elrond sees is the aftermath, the blood sinking into the ground. it’s far from the first time he’s seen people killed, but somehow now it’s all hitting him, all at once. he sees the bodies and it knocks the breath out of him. all he can see is the dead, from finwë on down, the rotting carcasses of every last person who was slaughtered for these gems, a whole continent bleached with death. they call the silmarils the most beautiful things in the world, jewels shining with the very light of creation, but elrond can’t see it for the blood they’re dripping with

that’s the immediate thing that has his hands shaking and his breath running cold. by morning it’s had a chance to sink in a little, and -

He lied he lied he lied he lied

maglor regretted the kinslayings! elrond knows he did! it was never even something he actually said, it was obvious from the way he talked about them. every single one was a complete disaster, nothing the fëanorians ever got out of them was worth what they lost in the process, and afterwards things always got worse in ways they never expected. and maglor hated the person the kinslayings had turned him into, elrond spent enough time around him to pick up on that much! surely he’d do anything to not have to commit another one?

apparently not! apparently all that regret, all that loss, the arguments and the nightmares and the coldly determined efforts to stop them following his path, it all meant nothing! he still gave in to despair or maedhros or whatever, killed yet more people, stole from the army whose return he said was like a dream come to life, spat in the face of his last chance to go home, and vanished! gil-galad’s people were right! he really is nothing more than a monster!

the shock of it all makes something snap in elrond, whatever fragile optimism he absorbed from the people around him draining away until he feels completely hollow. hundreds of years of suffering and death, and for what?

Smeared with the blood of untold hundreds, untold thousands, untold millions of people

Did they buy us peace for even half a year, even a week, even ten minutes?

Noooooooo!

Even the very land we lived on crumbled and drowned

What was the point?! What was the point?! What was the point?!

I feel like I’m going insaaaaaaane

morgoth may have fallen, but beleriand is dead! nothing remains, not the lush green lands of the stories, or even the dessicated forests of his childhood, just desolate earth and the devouring sea. almost everywhere he’s ever known, almost everyone who lived and fought and dreamed there, are lost forever. nothing was saved, everything was destroyed, what good is a clear blue sky when there’s nothing beneath it?! how can they call this a happy ending?!

elrond can’t see any light here, all the great battles and heroic deeds seem absolutely pointless in the face of everyone and everything immolated in the endless grasping for these gems. the hosts of valinor leave the continent they shattered, the remnants of gil-galad’s people escape the raging forces of nature, and the survivors bicker and fight over resources just like the fëanorian minions elrond grew up around. the world is never going to get better, he realises. the dream of a paradise will never come true

and then one night, running a message down the craggy still-turbulent coastline, he hears a snatch of a distant, familiar voice

I can hear a voice whittled away to a weapon singing what could almost be a lullaby -

elrond leaps off the ridge and onto the rocky beach, scrambling over the uneven ground. he’s heard the rumours about where maedhros and/or maglor went - all of them, there’s dozens of them, he didn’t pay any particular heed to the ones where maglor wandered the coast, but if they were right, if he’s here -

his own voice has grown strong over the years, solid and forceful and mature. elrond screams his song into the emptiness, hoping against hope it will be heard

“What if for one more year, ten more years, a hundred more years, the shadow still reigns?”

“Then ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years, a million years later, we’ll see it fall! Isn’t that so?!”

“What if I lay out all one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-eight of the griefs I carry?”

“Then there’s one billion eight hundred million three thousand and sixty-nine days for you to live!”

“That must be it...”

the impression of a hand touching his cheek, the ghost of a smile. for a moment someone else’s voice slips into the ebb and flow of his song, a shadow reaches out to wipe the tears off his face. live, it whispers. you who i held dearest last, live

elrond’s breath catches in his throat, and the song, and the shadow, vanish. it’s just him on a forsaken beach, the only sounds the waves crashing and the gulls calling. the sky is completely overcast, the clouds dull and grey. he watches them drift along for a while, as his pulse slows down and his airways clear up. live, the word echoes in his mind

he waits until his breathing is back to normal and the churning emotions inside him have settled into a form he can handle. then he wipes his face and clambers back onto the ridge

(life. it’s not much, but it’s enough. it has to be. his home is destroyed, but he is alive; his family is broken, but he is alive. he is alive, and they want him to live, as much as he can while he still has a chance. the world he lives in will never be perfect, but he knows how to work with that)

(and besides - elros, círdan, gil-galad, erestor, the other healers, the small knot of elves of all stripes who seem determined to follow his banner. he hasn’t lost everything, not yet, and he won’t let the world take away what he has left. he’ll never abandon those he loves)

the clouds are lightening. soon the stars will be out. elrond takes a deep breath, and starts running towards his future and the person he’s going to be -

thousands of years later, a memory resurfaces

“Two million, two hundred and forty-one thousand, five hundred and thirty-nine days... Ah, yes. I know I forgot to say it earlier, but you did a very good job”

a smattering of notes are lifted by the ocean breeze. they travel inland, across the worn-down mountains, around the weathered hills, above the tangled forests, up the untamed rivers, and finally into the hidden valley

in the gardens of imladris, lord elrond hears a voice he hasn’t for millennia. a watering can slips out of his hands, and suddenly he can’t breathe

It was just another day, beneath a dark sky

The ocean and the wind roared on all around me

I wasn’t paying attention to how my tears were falling

Trying to remember a clear star-lit sky

that youthful dream of a world free from evil never came true. the shadow came back, and it kept coming back, taking his people, his friends, his family, his wife. everything they built after the defeat of morgoth has been reduced to dust by the weight of time, and every year more of it slips through his fingers. elrond doesn’t know how much more of it he can endure. he doesn’t know how much more he can lose

he chases that scrap of music all the way to the seashore

I ran down the path between the rocks and the spray following that voice I never knew why I loved

But in the end I could only stand weeping

elrond searches up and down the coast, scouring the shoreline for clues, asking the locals, listening. sometimes he hears whispers of song, long wailing lamentations that make his heart ache all the more now that he understands how that despair feels. occasionally it’s loud or consistent enough he can track it, trying to pinpoint the singer’s location in the intense storms of bitterness and grief

but he never finds anything

“You fool, he’s already gone. Like he was never there at all...”

all that’s left is a voice on the wind

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valhallanrose · 3 years

Text

The Place is Immaterial

“meet me at sunrise, at sunset, or the new moon - the place is immaterial.” - from the letters of Emily Dickinson

In which a poet and an adventurer find common ground.

2.1k. Milenko (and Atanasie) belong to @sunrisenfool. No CWs apply.

“...I’m telling you, Atanasie, there’s a whole collection of those vases back at the dig site. I keep saying you’d love it out there - how long do I have to dangle the bait of ‘newly uncovered murals’ in front of you before I have to pack you up in a carriage myself?”

“Oh, just a little longer. It’s just a matter of clearing a big enough gap in my schedule to focus on it completely. Now get your dusty boots off my desk.” Atanasie reached out then, smacking the bottom of her boot where it was popped up against the edge of the wooden surface. “Heathen. You bring me back one Bulani vase and you think you own the joint.”

Astoria laughed, dropping her foot to the floor and setting her teacup to the side. “Harsh words. Maybe I should just…”

They leaned over to the side, reaching toward the tall vase standing beside Atanasie’s desk, only for him to shoot them a scandalized look.

“You touch that vase and I’ll get you banned from the Palazzo.”

“Why would Nana ban me? I can make his life infinitely harder when he tries to use the palace library.”

Atanasie grumbled as Astoria grinned, clearly far too proud of themself for winning that one as they reached for their teacup again.

Whenever they returned from their travels, Astoria made it a point to come by the Palazzo Cassano to visit Atanasie Radošević, fellow enthusiast of ancient civilizations who also happened to get paid to pursue his passions. When she was around, they had tea a few times a month, usually in one of their respective offices so they didn’t disturb other patrons around them. Sometimes they got into quite animated discussion, but other times it became casual conversation, catching up with one another on their lives and adventures.

“Any plans for the winter?” Atanasie asked after a few beats of pause, and Astoria nodded, a smile breaking out across their face.

“Yeah, actually, I’m thinking about heading south again. Granny’s going to be at Castle Kintyre for Hogamanay, so I’ll probably join her for the celebration. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve been there, so it’ll be nice to be home.”

The man shuddered, shaking his head slightly and bringing his cup a bit closer to his chest. “I’ll never understand how you do the cold down south, it’s absolutely intolerable -”

A knock on the door cut through their conversation, making them both pause before Atanasie glanced at the clock. He stared at it for a moment, then two, before being broken from his reverie by another light knock and a call of “Uncle?”

“Come in!” Atanasie called, already rising from his desk as the store swung open.

Astoria glanced over their shoulder as Atanasie and his visitor met halfway, a bright smile on the former’s face as he leaned in to press a kiss to each of the person’s cheeks and reached up to loosely grip their upper arms.

“Sasi, my darling, peace be upon you.”

Immediately, the name clicked in Astoria’s mind - Atanasie had spoken of his nephew many times before, usually when the conversation turned away from work and they checked in on each other personally. Astoria stood as Milenko smiled and returned the greeting, setting their teacup on the desk - and discreetly dusting off the print their boot left behind before Atanasie drew their attention.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been a little rude.” He beckoned her closer, then gestured to Milenko with a smile. “I’ve told you about my nephew, yes?”

“You have.” Astoria chuckled, nodding and extending a hand to the man in question. “The infamous Milenko - it’s nice to put a face to the name. A pleasure, I’ve heard much about you from your uncle.”

They noticed his eyes first. Warm brown, the kind of color that made them think of fresh brewed coffee - gods, they needed a cup, the more they thought about it. Olive toned skin, a spattering of freckles across his cheeks, dark brows and bronze curls that just made him just seem like a different kind of warm altogether.

It fit the way Atanasie had described him, truthfully.

Milenko quirked a brow at her words, but took her hand, giving it a firm shake in turn. “Hopefully good things. Regretfully, I’m not sure I can say that he’s told me about you…?”

“Astoria. Astoria Fenharrow.” They glanced down to their joined hands, where their bare palm was clasped in his - they’d forgotten to put their gloves back on - and in a moment of curiosity, pressed their first two fingers neatly against the fluttering pulse point on the inside of his wrist.

Every heartbeat was a little different. She’d compare her own to that of a hummingbird, fluttering, unrelenting, the quick wings that carried her across the continent and back when the fancy took her.

Milenko’s made her think of rivers. Not the small, babbling kind, but the rivers that ran strong and steady for decades, ran their courses and carved through mountain sides with time. Persistent, strong and steady...a force to be reckoned with if you allowed yourself to get swept up in it.

“You have a strong heart.” Astoria commented idly, their hand sliding from his and wrapping around one of the suspenders they wore. Milenko gave her a curious look before Atanasie stepped closer, clapping a hand on their shoulder and giving them both a smile.

“Ah, it’s a good thing, Sasi. Astoria told me something similar when we met.”

“I told you your heartbeat made me think you were a boar.”

“And I choose to take that as a compliment.” Atanasie chuckled, squeezing Astoria’s shoulder before his hand fell back to his side. “Do you mind if we continue this another day? The time got away from me.”

Astoria chuckled, reaching for her bag and swinging it loosely over her shoulder. “By all means, Atanasie, I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from family. I did drop by unannounced. Do let me know what you make of that vase the next time we meet, and I’ll bring the tea. Gods know Granny’s sent me more than I could drink in a lifetime.”

Atanasie met their friendly embrace, and then they slipped out the door - letting it fall shut behind them as they ventured out into the main library.

What, like they were going to pass up an opportunity to peruse the shelves while they were there?

* * * * *

Libraries like that of the palace and the Palazzo Cassano were easy to get lost in, and Astoria had done just that.

They dropped their bag off at a desk and had begun to wander, through the aisles packed chock full of texts on history and science, literature and art, and everything between until they found the section they were looking for.

Astoria had heartily plucked a book off the shelf in the poetry section and unceremoniously seated themself on the floor, back pressed against another set of shelves and their legs stretched out across the aisle. With the book in their lap and a quick adjustment to their glasses, they were set for a few hours of reading, and they certainly met that expectation.

They didn’t know how long it had been when a voice cut through the silence - hushed, as to not disrupt others, but enough to draw their attention - and made them look up toward the source.

“A strong heart, hm?”

Astoria blinked once at Milenko, then twice, before their face flushed and they sheepishly closed the book with a finger between the pages to mark the poem they’d been reading. “I apologize, it’s...something I forget might unnerve others. I do hope that didn’t sour your impression of me.”

“Not at all.” Milenko shook his head, loosely gesturing to the space beside Astoria on the floor. “May I?”

When they nodded, he sat down unceremoniously, letting out a long breath as he stretched his legs out and closed his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, long enough to make Astoria wonder if they should go back to their poem, before he spoke up again with eyes still closed.

“Uncle says you’re an archaeologist like him. He called you the ‘expert on Bulan’, if I had to use his words.”

“Oh, gods...somehow even when I’m not in the room, Atanasie finds a way to mess with me.” Astoria groaned, laughing slightly as she pressed the cover of the book in hand against her forehead. “I do study Bulan, but there’s still so much to uncover. I’d hardly call myself an expert yet. Should I be nervous that you were talking about me?”

Milenko chuckled, shaking a few curls out of the way and folding his hands neatly in his lap - a motion that made her notice the ink stains on his hands that she’d somehow missed earlier. “Had to put myself on an even playing field. You knew who I was, but I knew nothing of you.”

“Well, I know you’re his nephew. I know you have a dog named Ursula, that you visit fairly often, and that you’re a poet. Nothing deeply personal.”

“Still puts you a step ahead of me. We know each other’s careers. Got any pets?”

“A dog as well. My familiar - her name’s Nathaira. I’ve also got two doves, Patroclus and Achilles.”

He laughed a little at that, a sound that made Astoria’s lips quirk up at the corners as well. “I didn’t take you for the sort who enjoyed epics.”

Astoria shrugged, getting to their feet to slip the book back into its place on the shelves. “Ah, well, I spend a lot of time on the road, or working with old texts. I’ve read a little bit of everything, truthfully, poetry just...speaks to something different.”

“I understand that.” Milenko nodded, still seated on the floor as Astoria met his gaze - something curious, even critical in his eye as he looked up at her. “What drew you to it in the first place?”

Astoria paused at that, then turned, leaning back against the shelf carefully and loosely folding her arms across her chest. The words were easy to remember, she knew them line by line for how many times she’d read the poem in question.

“Among the ruined temples there,

Stupendous columns, and wild images

Of more than man, where marble daemons watch

The Zodiac's brazen mystery, and dead men

Hang their mute thoughts on the mute walls around.”

Milenko’s face broke out into a wide grin, nodding in approval as he got to his feet. “Alastor; or The Spirit of Solitude. I can see why it would have pulled you into the world of poetry.”

“It did. I’ve spent as long as I can remember digging around ruined temples, so the passage struck a chord.” Astoria had to tip their head back slightly to meet his gaze as he moved, briefly wondering if the gap would be narrowed or widened if they both removed their heeled boots from the equation.

With a nod, Milenko took a step closer and offered Astoria his hand before he spoke, expression shifting from curiosity to determination on some unknown front.

“I’d like to ask a favor.”

Astoria grinned, eyeing his hand with something akin to mischief in their eyes. “Oh, so that’s why you wanted to get to know me. Dangerous, you know, asking for favors from new acquaintances. But I’m interested, go on.”

“I’d like to pick your brain a little.” Milenko wiggled his fingers slightly as if to try and entice them to take his hand. “What you said...I want to know more about what you see in a heartbeat. Call it writer’s curiosity.”

They mulled that over for a few moments before they nodded, laying their hand neatly in his. “Alright. I can’t find it in me to stifle said curiosity. I’ll be settling in at my office in the palace library for the next few days, can’t imagine how dusty it is after the last month or so. I could meet you in the library?”

“The fountain in the gardens, preferably. I write better near water.” Milenko smiled, then lifted Astoria’s hand in his - pressing a chaste kiss to their knuckles before releasing their hand completely. “I’ll come by tomorrow. I’d like to follow this train of thought before it’s lost.”

And, just as unceremoniously as he’d come, Milenko slipped out of the aisle - leaving Astoria standing there, rosy cheeked and wondering what the hell they’d just gotten into.

#nerds in a library make me go brrrr #astoria fenharrow #milenko #my writing

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kendrixtermina · 4 years

Text

Further reactions to "The book of lost tales":

I appreciate that Idril canonically wears armor and does swordfighting.

I feel like I can actually imagine adult!Idril much better now like in armor and with open hair, distraught but ready to fight while babby Earendil does not yet realize the danger...

My first thought is that Earendil was probably cute in that baby chainmail. My second thought is OUCH, Idril and Tuor always made sure their growing baby had fitting chainmail cause they felt the apocalypse might get them at any moment. Imagine that, imagine them having the baby armor fitted every year or so :(

Its fun how much of the basic structure already exists but most of what you'd consider the main characters doesn't exist or is scattered across various minor roles The only Prince anywhere in sight is Turgon - Except for Team Doriath, theyre all accounted for. I suppose Maeglin is kinda there in name only with vaguely the same role & motivation, but looks personality and background all did a 180 since. Luthien is still pretty much "princesd classic" at this point, not quite the fearless go-getter from the final version - markedly this version tells Beren that she doesnt want to wander in the wilderness with him whereas the final one says she doesnt care and its Beren still wants to get the shiny so as not to ask this of her and also for his honor.

I mean in the finished version Id consider the 3rd and 4th gen royals to be the main characters (well, alobgside Team Doriath and the varioud human heroes) and theyre hardly here. Imagine the silm with no Finrod!

Feanor had no affiliation with the royal family whatsoever, and is also generally less super. He's just the guy who won the jewelsmithing competition, not the inventor of the whole discipline. Still seems to have been envisionad as a respected member of the community who gets called to the palace for crisis meetings and is listened to when he stsrts giving speeches. From the first he already has the backstory of going off the deep end (or at least growing disillusioned with Valinor) after a family member is killed by Melkor and theyre still the first to die, but its just some other rando unrelated to the royals

The situation regarding the humans is different - instead of Melkor leaking their existence, its Manwe who explains that the other continents were supposed to be for them eventually. So Feanor goes off on a tirade about weak puny mortals comes off as a more of a jerk unlike in the final version where Melkor barely knew about the humans and described them to the Noldor as a threat. On the other hand in this one, also very much unlike in the finished product, Melkor dupes even Manwe into being unfair to the elves as a whole. In this the final version is a definite improvement, both Feanor and the Valar come off as a lot more sympathetic and though still deceived he's partially right in some things at least, so you have more of a genuine tragedy rather than a simple feud

There is something to the idea of Commoner!Feanor tho. I guess some of this survived in his nomadic explorer lifestyle and how both his wife and mother (who arent mentioned here) eventually were the ones to get that background of being not especially pretty ladies who are not from the nobility but got renown, respect and acclaim for their unique talent and contribution to society, with each having invented things and Nerdanel also being renowed for her wisdom. Hes sort of an odysseus-like Figure in that sense. I suppose later developements necesitated that Maedhros & co. have an army not just a band of thieves, which means they needed to be nobles/lords. That said this being a society where artisans are very respected and half the lords have scholarly/artistic pursuits going, the gap was probably not as big to begin with as it might have been in say, medieval England. Esoecially since Nerdanel's father had been given special honor by one of the local deities and that the social order might have been a very recent thing in Miriel's time. One might speculate that the first generation of Lords started out as warriors during the great journey, or perhaps just Finwe's friend group.

Also found that bit intetesting where the Valar have to deal with the remaining political tensions and effects of Melkor's lies on the remaining population in Valinor... - i guess with the change of framing device it was less likely for news of something like this to reach Beleriand. That, or the existence of Finarfin and his repentance made this go smoother this over in later cannon

Turgon's go-down-with-the-ship moment reaaly got to me. Im half tempted to write a fic where his wife, siblings and dad glomp him on arrival in Mandos. I dont care that none of them exists yet in this continuity i want Turgon to get hugs

I love all the additional Detail that got compressed out in the shift from fairytale-ish to pseudohistoric style especially all the various Valinor magic insofofar as it is compatible with the final version - particularly love the idea of the connection between the lamps and the trees that is now integrated into my headcanon forever

Its actually explained what the doors of night are

If I had not already read unfinished tales or volumes X to XII where this is also apparent, this is where I would say: Ah so the Valar were supposed to be flawed characters. Manwe has an actual arc; by the time he sends Gandalf he finally "got" it. I think in the published silm the little arcs of Ulmo and Manwe are mostly just lost in compression/ less apparent when only some of the relevant scenes got in but not all

It occurred to me way too late that the "BG" chars are the most consistent because theyre at the start and most stories are written from beginning to end. Finwe doesnt get a dedicated paragraph of explicit description until HoME X but my takeaway was that he's described pretty much like I always imagined him anyways/ same vibe I always got from him... charismatic, thoughtful, enthusiastic, sanguine temperament, brave in a pinch but at times lets his judgement be clouded by personal sentiment (though that last bit is more apparent/salient as a character flaw once he became the father of a certain Problem Child) ...i guess this would be a result of jrrt having had a consistent idea of him in his head for a long time.

This means Finwe's still alive at the time of the exodus which is just fun to see/interesting to know... Interestingly he sort of gets what later would be Finarfin's part of ineffectually telling everxone to please chill and think it over first while Feanor simply shouts louder (which is consistent with his actions before the sword incident in later canon where he initially spoke out against the suspiciozs regarding the Valar) - but its not exactly the same, he's more active than Finarfin later in that when "chillax" availed nothing he said that then at least they should talk with the other Kings and Manwe to leave with their blessing and get help leaving (This seems like it would have been the clusterfuck preventing million dollar suggestion in the universe where Feanor is related to him and values him) but when even that falls on death ears he decides that he "would not be parted from his people" and went to run the preparations. I find it interesting that the motivation is sentiment/attachment (even phrased as "he would not be parted from [his people]" same words/ expression as is later used for the formenos situation), not explicitly obligation as it later is for Fingolfin (who had promised to follow Feanor and didnt want to leave his subjects at the mercy of Feanor's recklessness )

Speaking of problem children. It seems the sons of Feanor were the Kaworu Nagisa of the Silmarillion in that originally all they do is show up at some point and kill Dior as an episodic villain-of-the-week. And then, it seems their role got bigger in each continuity/rewrite... probably has something to do with the Silmarils ending up in the title later making it in the sense their story that ends and begins with them. They have zero characterization beyond "fierce and wild" at this point, though in what teetsy bits there is we already have the idea that Maedhros is the leader and Curufin is the smart one/shemer/sweet-talker, though not the bit where Maedhros (or Maglor, or anyone really) is "the nice one". Which I guess explains why "Maglor" sounds like such a stereotypical villain name.

"The Ruin of Doriath" was purportedly the patchworkiest bit of the finished product, but I never noticed and it actually left quite an impression of me upon first reading, the visual of Melian sitting there with Thingol's corpse in her arms contemplating everything thinking back to how they met... she had the knowledge to warn him not to doom himself but couldnt get him to understand it because he doesnt see the world as she does.... After reading this though I wish there was a 'dynamic' rendition that combined all the best bits like, youd have to adapt it to the later canon's rendition of the dwarves, have Nargothrond exist etc. But i mean that just makes Finrod another dead/doomed relative of Thingol's whom bling cannot truly replace, like Luthien and Turin. In the Silmarillion you could easily read it as just an "honoured guest treatment" but here and in unfinished tales I get the impression that Thingol actually did see Turin as a son.

Already you see the idea of trying to make the stories all interconnected but there is less than there will be (the human heroes aren't related yet and there is basically no Nargothrond, which is later a common thread for many of the stories - a prototype shows up in the 'Tale of Turambar' tho complete with half baked prototypes of Orodreth and Finduillas

O boi im not even through yet

#silmarillion #the book of lost tales #history of middle earth #baby reads HoMe

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greengargouille · 4 years

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After a good night of sleep, a reread and access to a readmore, here are some thoughts on the mol update:

-I’m glad the fight didn’t stay too long on the angel and demons, while it’s interesting to see what kind of forms demons can have, it’s just too late in the story to get invested on a whole bunch of new creatures or the danger they pose.

-Zorian almost being petty on Xvim admiring the angels’ barrier, some things never change :’)

-I like that for a moment, Zorian isn’t sure he will be able to use his ‘secret plan’. We know he will, of course; this is not the kind of story where the protagonist ultimately fail. Also Domagoj mentioned on his patreon/wordpress he considered doing a sequel centered on Zorian and Zach, which kinda imply those two survive. But it would feel too... convenient if everything went smoothly. Of course there are going to be moments were he is not sure at all his plan will work.

-Oganj being able to pass through the divine barrier is what really sold me on how impressively dangerous of a threat he is. It’s one thing to be a menace able to make a whole continent shake, but angels felt like a cut above that.

- “After a few seconds, he noticed that everyone except Zach was staring at him strangely.” I thought this would be the set-up for another ‘Zorian forgot what an average mind mage can do’, instead it turns into a moment of reminiscence on how the people we all came to know and love died in the loop. Which is excellent heartcrushing. Well played.

-Zorian’s actions being described as only being ‘a drop in the bucket’ felt a bit... surprising? I expected him to be more of an influence. It makes sense, of course, but after being used to stories where the protagonist become overpowered, it feel unexpected. Not in a bad way through.

-Can I just say that I love that we still have small moments of Zorian thinking his original self would be horrified and that he’s numb of all those atrocities he let happen to spare his mana? Too often stories brush off the mental impact those kind of fights can have on someone. I hope the epilogue will touch on this a bit more.

-An army of pigeons (and cats) to the rescue. Oh man that was hilarious. As always it makes sense because their existence was talked about multiple times, but still. How can you not laugh at the idea of cultists going their way in an intense moment to be stopped by pigeons. It also makes for a small contribution from Raynie and Haslush, which is great. Secondary characters having a role in the finale is great.

-If it weren’t for them surely being made with souls, potion monsters feels like something Zorian would invest in researching once the situation have settled. It feels like something not mana-intensive, and with a bit of mind magic to control them it would be devastating.

-Silverlake trying to get a rise out of Zorian by asking about his sexuality shows she is quite good at finding the touchy points of people, but it does makes me wonder if something happened within the loop for her to think this could potentially work. But also, she formulate the whole choice as merely a personal, selfish one (trying to save one person he is invested in instead of all the potential ones he could have helped with sabotaging the invasion from the inside), which is... quite Silverlake-y. She can’t fathom someone choosing something outside of their own interests.

[Unrelated to the update, but I did wonder some times how common would sapphic relationships be in a witch coven, what’s with them putting men aside. Surely a witch who decided to get a male partner solely for procreation, then abandoning him to go and raise her daughter with another witch must have happened at some point? If Silverlake was aware of such things happening then it would be more likely she would come up with such a question to bait Zorian] -Holy heck, Silverlake and Red Robe being full of primordial essence. It feels so obvious, but it did procure a rush of “how the heck are they going to stop them all from releasing the primordial now”. Same when Silverlake’s regeneration abilities were shown. What a fearsome adversary.

-At last, the grey hunter! It had to come up at some point, and what better prey than the one that trained it against traps. But old Silverlake appearing? It was something I would not be sure would happen. Oh, what a joyful moment, having her own selfishness and paranoia come to bite her back :’D

-The soulseizer chrysanthemum was something I saw some people predict, and it made all too much sense for it to be used. Good luck to Quatach-Ichl to find another live one to train himself to resist against it.

-Speaking of Quatach-Ichl. He might not have the crown anymore, but he have connexions, lot of power, and he is used to long-term thinking. Now that they’re back on linear time, Zorian and Zach are going to have a very troublesome enemy to think about.

-Oganj the powerful dragon mage getting both the imperial crown and orb, while we have no idea if he survives the angel going after him. He is totally not going to be a problem later on the road. (Well, best case scenario, our favorite lich will try to get his crown back and they end up fighting each other. Worst case scenario, however, is an unlikely alliance between the two. How, man, I’m glad the story is ending because I would not have been able to wait on how that would come back).

-Aaand here is the town wide web area of sigils coming up. Most people had guessed it would be used against Zach, some people did thought it would be used on Jornak, but not on both at the same time.

---

-Gosh, the Zach’s pov chapter. It’s all I wanted from such a chapter at least a canon chapter. It... did feel a little off-putting at first because I felt like... overall voice?... of it would have a different... I dunno, something more... Zach? Not that I had any expectations on how it should have gone- I wasn’t even sure we would get his point of view in the first place.

-Him slowly giving up on ever getting out before Zorian came up in the equation, gosh that’s the kind of content I craved. I wouldn’t mind a whole chapter of this. And ah, him finding Zorian a bit scary is pretty great *stare in the distance at this fic idea that refuse to write itself*

-I hadn’t thought on how, if Zach hadn’t been through that many loops, the two would definitely had more conflicts on the way to do things. An interesting thing to think about.

-Zach isn’t just a dumb brute and I do like that this end up being Red Robe’s fatal mistake. It’s easy to fall back into this error while writing, so I appreciate that Domagoj did play on it; it’s hard writing a character being impulsive and failing to think through on a lot of things, without them coming up as completely stupid, and still making it look consistent as a whole.

-Zach is ‘just a little bit jealous’ of Zorian beating Quatach-Ichl, while Zorian himself wanted earlier to be petty and defensive of his own abilities compared to a angel barrier. Those guys, I swear.

-The diagnosis spell Zach used necessitate contact. Interesting, when a lot of divination magic shown in the story haven’t required it, or even any chant for that matter. Is it for dramatic purpose, or is it specific to divination related to healing? Or is it just ‘the closer the subject of the divination is the better the result, so of course physical contact is going to give the best answer’?

-”And Zach... felt happy. He felt disgust with himself for it, but he really did. [...] He was free, and all it cost him was the life of his best friend.” This. This is the kind of angst I live for. What a perfect conclusion to this chapter.

--- -I half-expected a Zach’s pov chapter, but a Jornak one? Now that’s unexpected, but it answers questions I did not know how to formulate- I always wanted more details on how they ended up becoming more friendly, or how Jornak did manage to get into the loop. (I... actually still want more details even after reading the chapter, but I feel like it’s one of those case where the author would rather leave it at that and let the readers make their own suppositions).

-This chapter also is good for characterisation purpose- Jornak truly believes in what he’s doing, but also show a fair amount of how his life was pretty bad and how he feels the whole world is unfair towards him- which doesn’t make him likeable, but interesting as a character.

-The grey hunter have its belly full of primordial energy after slurping Silverlake, which totally won’t be a problem later on. At least this one the cultists will have a tough time finding it for sacrifice purpose. (Though I do wonder, if the primordial essence itself is linked to the contract? It was only the souls of Silverlake and Jornak, wasn’t it? It would be way too convenient if the primordial essence disappeared after the month is over)

-Zorian making him relieve the supposed after fight over and over till he gets all his secrets. What an horrifying moment. I love it.

-I’m pretty sure I read the theory somewhere the soulseizer chrysanthemum would be used for bypassing mind-blank? It’s been a while since I read discussions on previous chapters. I like the explanation on the whole mind-soul-body link. It’s pretty much like cutting your computer from internet to avoid piracy, but forgetting to put an higher password on said computer when you leave your desk unattended.

-It’s reassuring to know the manifold resonance spell can only be used a few times on the same person. One thought I had on post-story problem is, would Zorian’s ability to bypass mind blank forever put a gap in his relationship with Zach, as the latter is probably still very touchy about anything to do with his memories even after his contract ended? What about anyone who learns of it? Having it being limited on uses solves (at least partially) that problem.

-Kiri’s doll is mentioned, which I totally forgot but would be sad if it did not reappear! And ah, of course, the famous trick of replacing the mini-golem with another while pretending it was just a repair. Since Kirielle is probably going to study magic (if she doesn’t go the witch path instead), I wonder if she will end up specialising in golem-making.

-If the grey hunter goes into the Dungeon and makes it its territory, is there a risk the monsters there get chased to the upper layers? Would the araneas be enough against them? Would they get into the city? What an hilariously horrible conclusion. “Oh yeah we saved the city of the invasion, but with all the monsters coming up it’s impossible to repair it, we have no choice but to abandon it”. Unlikely even if creatures did appear, as it’s just the biggest mana hole of the continent, but it’s fun to think about.

-Not only did Zorian maintained two illusionary worlds, he did so while having an hivemind, and after a long and hard fight in which he also had to redirect an enormous amount of mana into an angel summoning cube. That, plus connecting with various people all over whenever Zach tried to verify their minds. No wonder he is tired.

-It’s probably not a good idea to stay in town, and I’m not sure where that secluded and secure space is, but I bet that’s not where Zorian will wake up next chapter. Not sure in which condition are Ismaya’s house or the Noveda’s estate, but it’s probably safer out of town... Cirin, maybe. Have Zorian wake up in his bedroom and have a small heart attack thinking the loop started again.

-...I hope out of the Damien-Xvim-Alanic trio, one of them at least take the time to wait for Zach’s wake up, or leave something for him to explain the situation. Through all the contingencies Jornak prepared are way more important, so it could be possible to overlook that. Can you imagine how Zach will feel suddenly waking up in a strange room, with your best friend your mourned being unconscious but alive, and a weird pile of goo on the side. Is this an illusion. Was your previous memory an illusion. How can you be sure.

-...What’s with the orb being out of Koth now, and the Taramatula estate having gained portals to move between continents, will Daimen visits his family more now? That’s great news! ...I guess. For Fortov at least, who is sorely needing some training. If he’s still alive. Who knows. Maybe the epilogue will tell us.

#mother of learning #mol #mol spoilers #long post #very long post

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svynakee · 4 years

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castlevania s3 thoughts

Well more like complaints. Although I do find it worth watching; maybe after S4 comes out, though. Because S3 is really just a fancy teaser for S4.

I really don’t like how Castlevania S3 felt like a waste of time (except for 30% which was very good). I mean yeah I watch shows to waste time in general but hear me out.

By the end of S3, it feels like nothing happened. The status quo is kept. There’s a lot of setup with a tenuous promise of S4 payoff. There might be growth, but really, everything feels more like the catalyst for growth to happen later. It’s like following your GPS and it says “You’ve arrived at your destination :)” but you find yourself at some dusty crossroads and there isn’t even a petrol station in sight.

That’s basically all I can say without spoilers. I have a lot more to say with spoilers. So-

If Castlevania S3 was divided into 4 basically unrelated stories (Styria, Lindenfeld, Isaac’s travels, Alucard’s castle), at least half of them ended up saying/contributing nothing to the overarching plot, setting and characterisation. It felt like an extended trailer. Action, twists, your favs making an appearance…then goodbye, screen fades to black, see you next season.

TLDR version: get rid of Isaac’s entire arc, develop Sumi and Taka or get rid of them, Lindenfeld sorely needed more focus, no need to change Styria but more Styria would be nice.

Compare to S1, which was also mostly setup for the plot resolution in S2. It didn’t feel like a waste of time. Why? Because of the threat of Dracula? I don’t think so. It’s because when we first meet Trevor, we’re presented with a very solid image of who he is. He’s alone, he’s purposeless, he doesn’t want to take up his family legacy. 3 episodes later and he’s got two “friends” and a clear goal to pursue. And he’s no longer a nameless drifter – he’s the last living Belmont, vampire hunter, returning to his ancestral home so he may arm himself to face Dracula.

Alucard

Alucard’s story was the worst offender in my opinion. We start with Alucard being alone and sad in his empty castle. We end with Alucard being alone and sad in his empty castle. While this could be an interesting start of darkness for the dhampir, the fact that we don’t really see the results make it an overall unsatisfying season. Suki and Taka contributed nothing. We learned almost nothing about them. Their motivations were frankly generic – they want to fight vampires? Well we already know people who do that. Their obsession with the castle’s engine? Goes nowhere. Their friendship with Alucard? Shallow, not really built on mutual points of interest. Then they die.

The truth is, Sumi and Taka were dealt a bad card to begin with – Alucard, to be exact. Because a ranged and close quarters fighter duo of vampire hunters has direct competition with the previous season’s S&T, Sypha and Trevor. Instead of giving them the time and development needed to grow apart, they seemed more like plot devices to get Alucard to where he needs to be in S4. Or just to prove he’s lonely and gullible. And a bottom.

I feel like there’s a lot of potential in this storyline. Perhaps Taka and Suki’s interest in the castle is more nefarious; maybe they were part of a bigger group. Their betrayal of Alucard could cause him to reconsider his father’s stance on humanity. As a stepping stone, I have no complaints about this storyline. But that’s because there’s nothing to say. Its impact all depends on S4 and S4 isn’t out yet. So, the entire thing just feels frustrating, a pointless distraction from the other storylines.

Isaac

Isaac should not have gotten as much screen time as he did, unless they actually did something useful with him. As much as I love his character (Casually putting Godbrand down? Instant fav.) his presence in S3 feels like pointless pandering. Because he spent all that time doing nothing.

We know who Isaac is, because of S2. We know what his motivations are: return to/avenge Dracula. We know his general worldview, the thing that makes him what he is – he has a low opinion of humanity, is highly disciplined and loyal to Dracula. And the thing is, NONE of these things change in S3. Instead we’re treated to Isaac repeatedly almost thinking humans are okay, then getting proven wrong when he tries to give them a chance, then killing everyone.

This is would serve a purpose if: Isaac was seen as ambivalent towards humanity or conflicted about condemning them in S1 (more like Hector, perhaps). Isaac was more like original Isaac, an unhinged sadist and being saved by Dracula starts him on a path to redemption which is repeatedly denied.

But no. Isaac is always shown to be calm, disciplined and set in his views. Having him go through this completely unchanged makes his character ‘arc’ a waste of time.

The problem is Isaac’s storyline also feels unnecessary plot-wise. Isaac finds humans disgusting and his power is to be a monster spawn point. The fact is, if Isaac shows up one day with a monster army and wants to kill humans, we don’t need an explanation for it. Isaac himself is the explanation. The only thing that needs resolving is ‘how did he get from the desert to bother the heroes’ and that can be solved by “I took a boat” or “I found a transportation mirror” or even “I used a night creature to carry me”. He can just tell us. It can be a shot of him travelling. Or a cheesy montage set to rock music I don’t care.

So the fact that character-wise Isaac is just going through a series of resets is made even more tedious when you realise that plot-wise he’s also been completely useless.

His big fight was fun, but it lacked emotional impact. The wizard wasn’t opposed to Isaac, either in terms of good/evil or ideologically. There was no catharsis to the wizard dying because we never knew those townspeople. Who got turned into night creatures anyway. By Isaac.

Belnades and Belmont (the dancing bear)

The Lindenfeld plot I would say has all the elements of an excellent story but needed more time. More focus. I hated S3’s style of constantly jumping between the four storylines, especially when one of them involved Isaac going through a banal cycle on another continent and the other had the Discount Belmont and Belnades.

In my opinion, Lindenfeld only suffered because there wasn’t enough focus to really build up the almost Lovecraft-esque mystery for Trevor and Sypha to investigate. Germain barely interacted with them, we only got his story via infodumping and a bad dream. Their relationship with the Judge didn’t feel deep enough that his ‘betrayal’ had impact (besides, it was bundled up with Alucard and Hector’s betrayals so there’s a bit of overexposure apathy). And it’s hard to be sympathetic towards townspeople when, for most of the series, townspeople are shit. Townspeople blamed Belmont for Dracula’s horde. Townspeople tattled on Lisa. Townspeople antagonise Isaac. Showing us 1 family eating dinner isn’t going to change that.

There was something of a start to an emotional arc where Trevor questions Sypha’s naiveté, his future with her, etc. which would have been stronger if it wasn’t just the start of an arc. Leaving them horrified at the truth of the Judge, the destruction of the town and their inability to prevent disaster is absolutely fine. But when it’s also paired with Isaac’s Are Humans Bad Merry-go-Round and Forever Alone Alucard, yet another “to be continued” ending instead of closure was frustrating.

Hector but not really

Hector, similar to Isaac and Alucard, starts and ends in the same place. I have no complaints about the Styria storyline though because Hector isn’t the character carrying this subplot. Lenore is.

Lenore starts out with a clear goal and obstacle to that goal. The other vampire sisters seem unconvinced that she can solve it, or that any of them can. Lenore succeeds despite these odds, proving her own strength, cunning and patience. She also shows how her way, the diplomat’s way, has the same value as Carmilla’s schemes, Striga’s military knowledge and Morana’s talent for governance. She has an arc. Sure, it’s a villain arc, but villains need them. S2 had Carmilla working against Dracula, putting her forces into place, manipulating the war council, stealing Hector to her side. S3 has Lenore.

Meanwhile, the Styria subplot also sets up the new villains for the heroes to face – cunning Carmilla, strong Striga, strategic Morana and manipulative Lenore. Along with Hector the army spawn point. We have the new location, Styria. We see the dynamic and power hierarchies of the new villains. We learn about their overarching goal and how they mean to achieve it. Lots of setup, even more than the other storylines, but it has a satisfying arc within it that means it gives closure.

If S3 was freed from Static Isaac and Sumi/Taka (who have expiry dates and arrived half stale), the Styria storyline could benefit from the extra time. Better establish the dynamic between the four sisters (as opposed to Striga-Morana, Lenore-Hector and then a little bit of Carmilla). Give Hector more time to show his emotions; his despair, his loneliness, his genuine desire to have a friend despite his better judgement.

Final thoughts and Season Finales

Overall, the strongest parts of S3 are bogged down by subplots that really didn’t deserve so much screen time. I question the editing style of constantly jumping between the storylines; it comes at the cost of emotional investment into each one. The finale is especially strange to me. Two fights and two sex scenes that clashed, broke tension and made it tough to respond emotionally. Isaac’s fight should’ve happened earlier, a mid-season spectacle that really doesn’t have emotional impact. Lenore’s manipulation and betrayal could have been a second-to-last episode thing. The heroes naturally deserve the prime spot of season finale; the disastrous end of that fight also sets up the gloomy tone of the ending.

Sumi and Taka can die whenever, however. I literally could not care less whether they tried to kill Alucard after sex or over dinner. I barely care about their reason for attempted murder. I don’t know what part they play in the grand scheme of things and I am not invested in them as individuals.

If the entire point of the arc was to prove that Alucard was a bottom, just have him absent the entire season and add a post-credits scene of him using a dildo. Then he accidentally smashes it with his vampire strength and cries on the floor.

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #castlevania s3

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alia-turin · 6 years

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Fic Title: Broken Bonds [Chapter VIII] All Chapters: Master List

Rating:T Characters: OC, Libertus Ostium, Cor Leonis, Luche Lazarus (mentioned), Titus Drautos | Glauca (mentioned), Nyx Ulric (mentioned), Gladiolus Amicitia, Crowe Altius (mentioned), Iris Amicitia, Prompto, Ignis Summary: Finally I reached ‘Iggy’s chapter’. Somelight hearted conversation between Ignis and Ada about Altissia, the ring and the upcoming Ignis restaurant. Things with Cor getting messier. Notes: There is small Episode Ignis spoiler Tagging: @birdsandivory @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @jojopitcher @fromunseeliecourt @lazarustrashpit @littlestfangirl

(if you wish to be tagged or untagged, please let me know)

Ada was at the bridge waiting for Gladio for their usual early morning work-out. She had spent the rest of the night on the wall taking over someone else’s duties. The hunters could use some rest and she couldn’t sleep anyway. She had yet again abandoned the Marshal in the middle of his sleep but she was struggling with how to deal with him. Of course, the problem wasn’t Cor, the problem was in her and she knew that sooner or later he would get bored of her bullshit and just tell her to leave him alone. Maybe subconsciously that was what she was trying to do? Maybe she was so scared of getting close to another human being that’s he was sabotaging herself.

“I’m afraid Gladio is busy this morning.” Ada turned around to see Ignis standing almost behind her. How on earth didn’t she hear him? “But if you want I can spar with you, it has been a while since I have had any sort of training.”

“But you are…” Ada was going to say ‘blind’ but stopped herself. How do you point that out without sounding like absolutely bitch?

“Blind?” the man suggested. “It is inconvenient but I have learned to find my way around it.”

She looked at him, glad that he cannot see the doubt covering her face. On one hand she was curious. She knew he lost his sight in Altissia but continued to follow the Prince long after, and the Prince’s journey certainly was eventful. Ignis had found his way around it, literary, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to be the person who set the helpless retainer on fire.

“Okay…” she finally said. “But I won’t hold back.”

“I would be disappointed if you do.” He made a step back and adjusted one of his gloves.

Just now Ada realized she knew nothing about how he fights. Gladio was a powerhouse and that was his weakness as well. Prompto was their gun guy but physically he was easy to win over even for someone as small as she was. She has never seen Ignis fight.

She started casting a spell but before she finished there was a snowstorm around her and she knew it wasn’t hers.

‘That’s my trick…’ Ada thought but before she could even decide what to do Ignis appeared out of nowhere and swing at her with iced dagger. She had to wrap in the last possible second in order to avoid the hit. A very accurate hit which was going to end in her chest if she didn’t wrap. It was hard to admit but it wasn’t skill that saved her ass, it was pure instinct.

The storm was beginning to pass and she could see him, slowly but confidently walking toward her. She wrapped behind him, her dagger aiming for the back of his neck, but he somehow avoided that. She followed with series of knife attacks and wraps, but he was avoiding all of them. Casting her favourite snowstorm was going to be useless, he couldn’t see anyway, it was only her line of sight that was going to be affected. That exchange continued for a while, he was blocking or just evading every single attack she was making and even she managed to trip him few times he would always roll away just before the final blow. He cast a snowstorm again and Ada could feel her patients disappearing. She rushed towards him in all or nothing attack and it turned out to be nothing. She could barely see him, and he turned out to be closer than she thought. He tripped her, Ada fell hard, hitting her head in the cold ground. She tried to wrap but his cold dagger was pressed against her throat.

“I believe that’s my win.” She could see the man smiling and she smiled back even if she was sure he couldn’t see that.

“Well fought.” She responded and pushed herself up. Ignis was already standing, offering her a hand. It was amazing how during the fight she could swear he could see every move she made, but now…his hand was offered to her but it was a bit in general direction so it was up to her to find it and grab it.

“How do you do that?” she took his hand and found herself on her feet.

“I’m not completely helpless. Plus, lack of sight helps me focus on other senses and even feelings.”

“This glaive’s arrogance probably helped you.” At least she could admit she was beaten. She remembered a time when Tredd pulled pranks on her for a week because she kicked his ass.

“If you were arrogant, you wouldn’t take the loss so well.” He adjusted jus gloves and added. “Can ask you something?”

“Sure. It’s your right as a winner” Ada teased and walked with him towards the railing of the bridge.

“I know that the Marshal agreed to the idea about the restaurant and he had some conditions abut it and I also know that you, Gladio and Prompto managed to fulfil his conditions.”

At first Ada nodded but stupidly realized he couldn’t see that.

“Yes, we have.” She voiced her motion.

“Would it be extremely ungrateful of me, if I ask you to change the location?” he continued.

“No, especially since you ask so nicely.” Ada was more than impressed with his way of speaking. Part of her was even jealous. “But, where and why?”

“Galdin Quay.” He said calmly. “It is the place on this continent closer to Angelgard and I want to be as close as possible once the prince awakens.” He fell silent of a moment then continued. “Plus, they used to have excellent restaurant and as far as I am told must of their equipment is still there.”

“I really don’t see an issue with that.” Ada found the devotion Ignis had to the young prince more than admirable. Then again, the prince was their only hope for actual survival, she would probably camp in the water if that was possible and was going to bring him back to this world. “You might need to run that past Cor. I mean the Marshal.”

“I am aware who Cor is.” He gave her a teasing half smile and Ada realized she was blushing. Did he somehow know… “Did the Marshal give you trouble for that? Your voice was shacking when you mentioned him.”

“No, it’s not about that. We had a disagreement about something, but is unrelated.” It wasn’t actually a lie. It was just that she had a disagreement, with herself regarding him. At what point of her life did she become so unsure and scared of everything… “Can I ask you something. It’s fine if you don’t want to respond.” She decided to change the topic quickly before he sensed something else in her voice.

“Go ahead.” He had raised one of his eyebrows in curious expression.

“After Altissia…how…I mean it’s one thing to fight with me in more or less controlled environment, but you guys travelled so far. How?” She hoped that wasn’t pushing it too far.

“I had friends with me.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer. “And I had no choice. I have sworn to serve my prince and I would do anything I can to do so. Even if it wasn’t my oath, Noct means more to me than I can put into words. In Altissia I was ready to die for him, and that hasn’t changed ever since. Losing my sight is inconvenient, but as long as I could help him and support him, I will do that until I am breathing.”

Ada just stared at him admiring his devotion and wondering what kind of person was the young prince to inspire that. She had never spoken with the prince, just seen him few times. The royal family was rarely a responsibility of the glaives. She had a lot of respect of his father, but again it wasn’t because she knew the father but because of his actions. Ironically same actions that provoked respect in her had born anger in others.

“Did you know the glaive that put on the king’s ring?” Ignis’ question surprised her.

“Which one, there were two?” Ada could feel heart sinking somewhere in her stomach.

“Two? I always thought there was one. The glaive that defeated general Glauca.” He seemed surprised and Ada didn’t blame him. “I know that he passed away after the event, I tried to speak with Libertus but he avoided the topic.”

“They were close friends. We were all kind of close. You develop certain sort of affection toward people who fight and bleed with you even if you wouldn’t be friends in other circumstances, but these two knew each other before they joined the Kingsglaive. I think Libertus still hopes that Nyx is somewhere there but, if he was, we would have known. Also, no offence, but Nyx died after he put the ring, and here you are. I’m sure Libertus doesn’t hate you, it’s not your fault, but he probably cannot come to terms with the fact Nyx wasn’t so…lucky. If that could be called luck.” Ada was surprised at her own words. She never thought about that before, mostly because she had learned to accept things as they were long time ago. Ever since her family left Galahd she had been accepting what life was throwing her way and just fighting for her survival. She had accepted Nyx’s death and even if she mourned the loss of her friend in her own way, she knew no amount of ager or regret will bring him back. Too bad she couldn’t say the same about Luche’s death.

“You said there was another glaive?” she was hoping her words were forgotten but that wasn’t the case apparently.

“Libertus probably knows more about that than me.” Even if she was trying hard to avoid the topic, she actually knew very little about that. “He was somebody close to me, but decided to go where I couldn’t follow. Libertus told me he put the ring and the old kings killed him on the spot. That’s all I know.”

“The kings could be cruel.” Ignis added.

They both fell in silence after that. She had to fight her urge to defend Luche. She knew he messed up and he did deserve a punishment, but death? Losing a limb was going to be more than sufficient. And of course, there was Nyx. He didn’t deserve what he got either, but here they were.

“I will travel to Galdin Quay with Iris to set things up.” Ada said finally. “If you can just run it past the Marshal…” as she said that she saw a familiar figure approaching in the distance. ‘Fuck.’ Ada suddenly wished she could wrap somewhere but that wasn’t really an option. “I need to go.”

“Thank you, Ada” Ignis almost shouted after her since she was already on her way.

There was no avoiding that now. She took a deep breath and walked toward the city, same direction where the man she wanted to avoid was coming from. She tried to pass as far as possible from him but that didn’t work out. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest she thought she might drop down any moment now with a heart attack.

“I was hoping to wake up next to you today.” Cor had grabbed her wrist as she walked past him. It wasn’t a strong grip, in fact she didn’t even have to jerk her hand away in order to get free, but somehow, she found herself unable to release her wrist.

“I needed some fresh air.” She felt fourteen again, avoiding responsibilities with stupid excuses.

“Are you avoiding me again?” he let go of her and Ada was free to continue on her way but now she found it difficult to move away from him. Everything about him was driving her crazy. His smell, his body, his voice, his eyes…she wanted him. Not just physically, she wanted all of him and it was strangely painful to realize that, but at the same time she couldn’t relax around him exactly because she wanted him so much.

“No, I just have things to do…” she did but none of these things had to be completed now. “I will drop by once I’m done, also I think Ignis wants to speak with you.” She said all that way to fast and her body was finally released from whatever spell or madness had taken over her. “Please, don’t be angry with me.”

She didn’t wait for his response just walked away as fast as she could, hoping that at least part of her body was showing some sort of purpose, because clearly, she had none. Ironically, her avoidance of any personal issues had motivated her to work harder and help the people of Lestallum, but sooner or later she had to face the mess she had already created. Ada hoped that a demon was going to kill her before that happened.

#ignis scientia #cor leonis #libertus ostium #final fantsy xv #ffxv #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #my writing #fan fiction

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beelieveinfandom · 7 years

Text

A Better Birthright Chapter Six

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 AO3 Link

I would recommend reading this chapter on AO3.

Morning came like it always does, slowly and filled with the sounds of thousands of crows.

Mizar rather wished it was more like other mornings, where although there certainly were plenty of crows making plenty of noises they weren’t anywhere near her personally. The crows would have relatively quiet stretches where they kept a fairly even level of calls, but every now and then a squabble would break out or a hawk would fly overhead and the world would become a cawcophony of cawing.

There was really no point in trying to get more sleep once dawn broke.

The light of day made the entrance to the Unkindness’ lair rather intimidating. Not only was the hole huge and vertigo-inducing in its indeterminate depth, but the morning sun reflecting on the thick metal border shined with a painful blinding brightness, obfuscating all details of the entrance behind its wall of light.

No amount of light could swallow up the pit entirely, though. It was simply too large and too deep.

Crows were peeling away from the megamurder in small groups, presumably to go about their normal crow business of getting food or socializing or stealing cows.

The sun had moved behind a hill by the time breakfast was done, making it reasonable to actually look at the entrance. The seamless metal walls had somehow made it through the centuries completely unweathered: the only disruption to the unnaturally smooth surface was a line of glyphs written in an old runic alphabet that were cut into the metal. The letters’ edges were sharp to the touch.

A steady stream of cool, moist air rose from the hole.

It felt like they should be doing something to prepare for the presumed long trek ahead of them, but no one could think of anything specific to actually do.

No sense stalling. It was time to descend.

The staircase was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, but there wasn’t a guard rail. As no one was quite ready to fall to their death, they walked single file down the seemingly endless spiral.

It was quiet. Surprisingly so, considering the stairs were made of metal. The sounds of each footstep were soft, like the sound was made by something far away.

Nav spoke up, disrupting the steady footfall.

“What is this place?” they asked. The chamber swallowed any echo that their voice may have formed.

Alcor eased into the physical plane. “What would you be willing to give me for an answer to that?”

“I don’t know if I’m that curious,” Nav said.

“I’ll bite. I know a bit about the Unkindness and their Keeper, but this structure looks like something built by the ancients that the crows just took advantage of.” Mizar put her hands on her hips. “I’ll get you an animal around the size of a deer within a week for an explanation of why this place was built.”

“It’s a bit of a history lesson,” Alcor said.

“Seems like we got a bit of a walk ahead of us, Mizar said. “Gotta talk about something. And I think I can handle whatever the past can throw at me.”

“Well then, I accept your deal.” Alcor grinned as Mizar’s hand flashed with blue fire. “And it’s not really complicated. Mostly it’s just… people.” Alcor shook his head. “Before the calamity, people made devices that had the potential to annihilate everything in a stupidly large area. Any one of these could create a continent-wide disaster, and there were a lot of them. To try and minimize the damage caused if there was an accident, they built and kept them deep underground, in highly reinforced bunkers like this one.”

“Why would you risk making anything that dangerous?”

“That was the whole point. I mean, there were times when it wasn’t, when the devices could do such useful things that they were considered to be worth the risk, but people are drawn to raw destructive power and they raced with reckless abandon to make the thing with the biggest possible boom. It was generally said to be about defence, because if your neighbor has a weapon how can you be safe unless you have a better weapon? No one is going to attack someone who has a bigger stick, or so the logic went. Not that it really should matter how much better your things are if your neighbor can still wipe out all life on the continent, but that never seemed to stop anyone.”

“So that was the calamity, then?” There was a note of uncharacteristic melancholy in Mizar’s voice. “A war with weapons that shouldn’t have been made?”

“Nah,” Alcor said, “people weren’t quite that dumb. They were well aware how bad it would be if anyone actually set off any of these weapons, so they locked them behind impassable walls of bureaucracy. They really were built to be symbols more than anything else. The Calamity was actually an accident, as much as anything doing what it was built to do can be said to be an accident. It’s pretty fortunate for Earth, though. If these things had gone off outside of their protective bunkers I don’t think the planet would still be remotely habitable.”

“How do enough of these things go off on accident to cause the Calamity?”

“Shenanigans.” Alcor shrugged. “Basically, many of them ended up connected in the dreamscape due to an overlooked quirk of magic, one got triggered by a series of unlikely events and the power of its blast set off a few others. Then everything got amplified by an unrelated device and you got yourself a worldwide apocalypse.”

“If only a few of them went off, does that mean that there are still intact ones that could cause another Calamity at any point?” Mizar asked, alarmed.

“They’re all way too decayed to be even a minor threat anymore,” Alcor said. “Unless you were to go into their bunkers, then they’d be a major cancer risk.”

“So if this was supposed to be a bunker capable of containing some awesome weapon, why is it all open? Shouldn’t this be solid to absorb all the energy or whatever?”

“What we’re on was originally the outer wall of the bunker,” he explained. “The center was a very large building filled with maintenance stuff and various security things. This specific place is special, you see. When its bomb went off it exploded so hard it ripped through the dimensional barrier, and the bunker collapsed and fell through.“

“The whole thing collapsed?” Nav said. “Are these stairs going to be intact further down?”

“The outer layer of the bunker was just about the sturdiest thing people could make back then.” Alcor dismissively waved his hand. “It’ll be fine.”

“Wait a second, are we entering a different dimension?” Mizar asked.

“Sort of,” Alcor said. “When the rip first happened it led pretty much directly into a different dimension, but since then it drifted apart from this one. We’re essentially entering a bubble connecting our dimension to another; it’s a threshold space maintained by both while being a part of neither of them. Once they drift far enough it will burst and the rift will either heal or lead directly to the chaotic realm between dimensions.”

“A chaos realm rift?” Nav said. “That sounds like it’s probably a bad thing.”

Alcor shrugged. “Shouldn’t matter much to you - you’ll have died long, long before it’s going to be an issue. And anyway there’s nothing left there that’s stupid enough to try anything.”

“Left?” Nav asked. “That sounds like a story.”

“It’s a great one.” Alcor grinned. “What would you be willing to pay me to hear it?”

“Oh would you look at that?” Nav looked down over the edge. “There goes my interest. Hopefully it won't hit any crows on the way down.”

“So,” Swift said. “Future danger aside, this is completely safe then? I don’t want to take Jorge someplace too dangerous; he doesn’t really have reflexes.”

“I wouldn’t call it completely safe.” Alcor put his hands on his hips. “The stair’s lack of a rail is a serious OSHA violation. Also the air is probably carcinogenic, but what’s a little cancer ever do to anyone?”

The darkness grew around them as they descended deeper, growing thicker until it swallowed the last stray bits of light. They couldn’t see each other; even Swift’s cavern-evolved goblin eyes were useless. The only thing remotely visible was Alcor, but even the constellations that peppered his dark form were dim. The sky itself seemed to be missing - where the circle of light had been now held only blackness.

They had not descended anywhere near far enough to possibly justify the morning light’s absence.

It wasn’t very cold and yet their skin tingled like it was on the edge of numbness.

Mizar put a hand on the wall to guide her and stared at her flashlight. Looking at it straight on, she could see its circle of light, but pointing it at the wall it cast no illumination unless it was uselessly close.

Distant caws drifted up the open space.

Sharp fractures in the wall caught against Mizar’s fingertips like hooks. Smooth bumpy waves of warped wall surrounded them, so her fingers would rise and fall, only a few millimeters at the edge but whole inches right before the sudden jagged tear. A transfixing dance between smooth and sharp played out under her fingers.

“I’m not the only one that’s more than a little spooked, am I?” Fred asked, her voice clear and close. “Cause this place is causing me a bit of a concern right now.”

“I would certainly be happier if I could see the stairs ahead of me,” Nav said. “Sturdiest material of the ancients or not, that talk of powerful weapons and collapsing buildings makes me nervous.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall forward eternally with each new step,” Plessy said. “I like it here.”

“You would, you weirdo,” Nav said.

“Sure, I may be a weirdo; I will give you that. But what does that make you? For a weirdo is something that one is, a fixed part of one’s very being. But dating a weirdo? That is a choice, and a choice that you made handedly,” Plessy retorted.

“That makes me fucking awesome,” Nav said. “Cause weirdos are, in my experience, pretty much the greatest people this world has to offer, and by dating one, some of that innate coolness is transferred to me by proxy.”

“So,” Plessy said coyly, “what you’re saying is you only love me because I’m basically perfect in every way.”

“That’s it.” Nav flicked their arm up. “That’s exactly it. I’ve never been so called out in my life.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t hold it against you,” Plessy said. “I’d probably become enamored by my own charms too, were I not immune to such things.”

“Oh, you’re immune to being charmed now?” Nav narrowed their eyes.

“Completely above it,” she responded.

“Oh reeeeeally?”

“Absolutely,” Plessy said, her head high. “I’m so far above it I’m at grave risk of suffocation from how thin the atmosphere is up here.”

“You’re really cute when you’re full of shit.”

“A genuine compliment?” Plessy giggled. “Noooooooo, my one weakness!”

“And you better believe that there’s more where that came from!” Nav said, grinning.

“Is there nothing I can do to obtain your mercy?”

“No…” Nav shook their head. “No, it is far too late for that now. Do you have any last words before you take your onslaught of admiration?”

“I love how dramatic you are.”

“Heh,” Nav chuckled, the darkness swallowing their cocky grin. “So it’s a duel then?”

“If fate has conspired to bring such an event to fruition then so be it,” Plessy said with a heavy weight to her voice.

“I love your ironic seer shtick.”

“Is that so? Well I love how you laugh at my dumb jokes.”

“Your jokes aren’t stupid, they’re hilarious. I love how funny you are.”

“You guys are really cute,” Fred said.

“A challenger has appeared!” Nav exclaimed. “You know, Fred, you’re a delight to be around.”

“You brew a great cup of tea,” Plessy said.

“Oh… no, I didn’t mean to get involved.” Fred blushed. “Thanks for the compliments, though. You’re really nice.”

“Yeah?” Nav’s grin was evident in their voice. “Well your face is really nice.”

“Your welcoming presence is a breath of fresh air,” Plessy said solemnly.

The talk helped fill the space and made the voluminous cavern seem slightly less like an ancient tomb. It was still incredibly freaky, going down down down to destination unknown, each footfall paired with a panicked moment before the next step was felt where it seemed there was no next step, there was nothing but the darkness to fall through forever.

Needless to say, it was slow going. And there was a lot to go through. Without any visible sky or light, it was impossible to gauge how much time passed, winding around slowly through the darkness. It was definitely a long time, though, far longer than anyone wanted to be walking down stairs, impenetrable darkness or not. But eventually, after everyone’s muscles were starting to get sore, after it seemed like there was nothing in the world beyond this staircase, specks of light started to appear down below.

The lights were ethereal colorful streaks that raced up and down, not perfectly straight but as if tracing out some indecipherable ruins. The lights themselves were too faint to illuminate the room but their dancing reflections along the walls revealed what fingers had already figured out; the walls were no longer the peculiar smooth material of the ancients but rough, textured stone.

The cawing stopped as they approached the lights, leaving the room in haunting silence, only broken by the occasional flapping of wings.

The farther down they went the more lights there were. They still were dim, but together they were just bright enough to dimly illuminate the forms of crows lining the edges of the stairs like the world's most precarious railing.

They finally seemed to be reaching the bottom.

Streaks of light were grouped together in the center of the room likes bars of a cage. Within was a truly massive bird, whose shimmering form appeared to be made of liquid. Their tail poured down like a waterfall into a perfectly circular pool beneath them. The lights around them filled their form with an ever-shifting rainbow, dancing off their surface onto the walls, its pastel echo briefly revealing the dark iridescent rainbows hidden in the feathers of the numerous birds that filled the space.

And the birds were so very numerous. Thousands of beady eyes shone in the darkness, all fixed on the party. They covered the floor, they perched on crevices in the walls, they lined the staircase. With each step forward came the sounds of wings as someone landed behind them.

At last they made it to the end of the stairs, to solid and flat floor.

The room exploded in cawing. They could make out some words in the noise, but it all seemed to run together as a single presence of sound.

The large bird at the center of the room spoke, their haunting voice clear and easy to make out through the inescapable presence of the chatter.

SO YOU HAVE ENTERED OUR DOMAIN WE WERE NOT EXPECTING YOU SO SOON FORGOTTEN ONE

“Don’t mind me, I’m just tagging along with her,” Alcor replied, gesturing at Mizar.

THE BURNING HEART WHAT BRINGS YOU TO US

Mizar walked forward, slowly and purposely, until she was at the edge of the pool in front of the entity the crows were referring to as The Keeper.

“Oh Keeper, of the Unkindness,” she said.

“I am Mizar, the Twin Star, high priestess of the demon Alcor, the Light Breaking through the Darkness. I am here on behalf of those of the Pack of Even Hand, of their first mother and of this child.

“I would ask of you to return what you were given by the child. I would beseech you to return to him his emotions.”

WE WILL GLADLY RETURN IT BUT WE WILL NEED IN EXCHANGE A SECRET A FORGOTTEN PATH OR

SOMETHING SHINY

“I have for you an offering,” she said. “A forgotten path, freely given.”

For a minute the cawing intensified to the point that talking was impossible.

“I am the last shaman of the Fallwood people.” She spoke slowly and clearly. “I am the last to know our rites. I am the last to carry our history. Master of the Lost, I offer you the name that I was offered upon my birth. I offer you all that comes with it. This name is not an identifier but an identity. It is a title, it is that history. The name is a signifier that its bearer has gone down the path of shamanhood. I offer you a name, Keeper of Secrets, and through it I offer you my birthright.”

THESE TERMS ARE PERMISSIBLE

COME FORWARD WITH YOUR OFFERING

Mizar stepped forward, testing the depth of the pool in front of her. Her foot stayed on the surface, however, and having established she wouldn’t sink she confidently strolled over to The Keeper. When she was a few feet in front of them, the liquid suddenly stopped supporting her and she plunged into darkness.

She gasped in surprise, only to find she had no problem breathing.

It was warm beneath the surface. She felt lightheaded and fuzzy. Strange noises came from above. It was like someone was talking very far away. There was stuff down here. Big piles of weird things. She thought about her childhood. About learning what she was going to be doing. About the rituals she would do. About the people she would lead. About those who came before. And the more she thought about it, the less she remembered. It was warm. She was warm. What had she been thinking about? Maybe she should get out of this, leave this… wherever this was. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

She walked aimlessly for awhile before it got shallow enough for her to surface again. Her head hitting the open air was like falling face-first into the snow; the cold shocked her system and her thoughts became coherent again almost instantly.

She finished walking out of the liquid and tried to wring out her hair, only to find it was already dry.

Jorge was walking towards the pool with the same slow, aimless gait that he seemed to do everything with. He walked like his legs were a separate entity with separate intentions that he didn’t know; like he would be surprised to arrive at whatever destination his legs brought him to if he could only muster the energy.

He reached the pool and collapsed down to his knees like a dropped ragdoll. He cupped his hands together and took a drink from the dark liquid.

Almost instantly he started coughing. Deep, heavy, choking coughs like something was caught far down his throat.

Swift rushed over to help. He slowed as he got to Jorge, moving a hand to the child’s shoulder.

Jorge pushed him away. “You did this!” he said hoarsely. “Why would you do this? Everything was fine the way it was!”

He was angrily blinking back tears.

Swift sighed. ”I guess that answers the question of how you’re feeling.”

“How am I feeling? I feel awful! I feel like shit! I never wanted to think about what happened again and now I can’t stop.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Swift asked, his voice betraying that he already knew what answer he was to receive.

“No I don’t want to talk about it!” the teen shouted. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want anything to do with it! And why would I want to talk about it with you? You’re the one that did this to me! This is all your fault. I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!”

Jorge ran away to the stairs, shoving anyone in his way out of it. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly ascended out of view, which didn’t mean much considering how dark it was. Your hand could get far enough away from you to disappear from sight if it got especially ambitious.

“Well that’s probably not the response that you were hoping for,” Mizar said to Swift. “Sucks, dude.”

“I mean, it isn’t ideal,” he said, “but it’s about what I was expecting. He’s been through a lot and hasn’t dealt with any of it. It’s only natural that he would start with some pretty negative emotions. Honestly, I’m glad to see anger; I was worried he would just shut down again.”

“You gonna try to calm him down?” Mizar asked.

“Me? No. I’d probably bugger it all up, honestly. I’m… not the best at helping someone work through their trauma. We got some people back home that know what they’re doing though. At this point I’m just here to make sure he can get to them safely.”

“Should we be concerned that he’s running ahead?” Nav asked.

“He’ll tire himself out long before he reaches the top.” Swift looked up the stairs for any sign of his ward. “Still. We should probably go after him.”

“Like, right now?” Nav asked. “I was hoping to rest a little first. I’m still tired from the climb down.”

“I’m not sure I could rest right here,” Swift said. “Anxiety over Jorge aside, I feel like I’m invading the crows’ space.”

“Wait, we’re leaving already?” said Fred. “I was hoping I could get something back from the Unkindness, while we’re right here and all.”

“What’d you have Taken?” Nav asked.

“Oh, nothing as hoity-toity as my emotions or nothing, just some dried cantaloupe actually, but I’ve been craving it somethin fierce lately and hey, no sense leaving the butcher empty handed.”

“Fruit,” Swift said, in the same way as one might respond to being told that white picket fences were actually mind controlling parasites, and were secretly responsible for all of society's ills.

“Yep,” Fred said, completely oblivious to any subtext. “Got it awhile back and kinda forgot about it for a ways. Then one day I wake up with that hunger that only cantaloupe can fill and get all excited ‘cause hey, I just remembered I got some. Two shakes and a beat later I find that I can’t find it. I’m not even certain that it was Taken, to be open as a peach, might have just lost it.”

“What were you planning on giving up in return?” Nav asked slowly.

“Oh I got all kinds of childhood memories I could best do without.”

“Memories?” Nav asked disbelievingly. “For some fruit?”

THESE TERMS ARE PERMISSIBLE

“Oh, nice,” Fred said. “So how’s this work then? I just walk over here thinking about that which I’d rather not think about and-”

Fred plunged beneath the surface of the liquid.

Fred emerged from the liquid, after a minute or so, triumphantly holding a leather satchel.

“Personally I wouldn’t have returned the bag. Let’s see her carry a pound and a half of dried fruit with her hands.”

“You’re a bit of a pedantic prick, aren’t you?” Nav said.

“I like to think of it as teaching the value of careful wording.”

“So a pretentious pedantic prick, got it.”

“Pretty much,” Mizar said.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Mizar shrugged. “Maybe if you tried being less of a pretentious pedantic prick I wouldn’t feel the need to call you out on your shit.”

“Well maybe I’m old and have been through things you couldn't dream of and have earned the right to conduct myself in however prickish of a manner I like.”

“Then you should learn not to get offended when people tell it like it is.”

“Well I’ve gone and done what I was gonna go and do,” Fred said. “Anyone else have something they might want back or should we be off?”

“I would appreciate it if we would go follow Jorge,” Swift said. “If that’s alright with everyone. I wouldn’t want to stop you from being reunited with that cool leaf you saw once just because I want to keep an eye on the child in my care.”

“You want some cantaloupe?” Fred asked, as they started to walk.

“...” Swift put his face in his hands. “I kind of do, actually.”

It didn’t take them long to catch up to Jorge. He had stopped fairly close to the bottom and sat down, legs dangling off into the dark abyss. Not that anyone could see that through the supernatural blackness.

“I hate stairs,” he declared. “They’re awful and there are too many of them and I hate them.”

“You ready to go home, Jorge?”

“That would involve climbing more stairs, so no. I’m not ready to go home. I’m going to sit here forever and never climb a stair again.”

“We can rest awhile if that’s what you want,” Swift said gently.

“No I don’t want to rest here,” Jorge said with his voice raised. “It’s dark and creepy and I don’t like it.”

“Well, what do you want, then?” Swift asked.

“I want to be at home, like I was,” Jorge said. “Not feeling all these things, like I was. Not here. Not in the dark on the stairs surrounded by more stairs and hating everything. It sucks, Swift! This sucks!”

“Well, the faster we get moving the faster we can get home. Then it can suck slightly less.”

They continued to ascend the staircase. Mizar’s thoughts drifted to her childhood. She could still remember the general shape of things; what she learned and why. When she tried to remember any details, however, she started to feel all warm and fuzzy again, and the harder she tried to focus the more lightheaded she got.

She could still remember her exponent just fine. Which was a relief? Yes. She wouldn’t want to forget about him, no matter how much it still hurt.

The ascent went considerably faster than the descent had. The sky revealed itself as a circle of light after what felt like no time at all, at least compared to what they had been expecting. And once they could actually see the stairs ahead of them they could move considerably faster. They were at the top before they knew it.

The sun had barely moved from the position that it had been when they went down, despite the fact that it seemed unlikely that a whole day had passed.

They took a short rest and started down the long trek back to the Pack.

It was late evening when they got back. The area was still crowded, despite the hour. The buzz of people going about their evenings and the literal buzzing of bees filled the air, undisturbed by their presence.

The Bright One came out to greet them, led by an eager child.

“It is good to see you returned,” she said. “Did you find what it was that you sought?”

Jorge took that moment to run off - the thought of sitting there while people talked about what had just happened to him like it was some sort of victory to be celebrated was too much to bear.

“Yeah,” Swift answered. “He’s definitely feeling things again.”

“And not too happy about it, or so it would appear.”

“No he…” Swift sighed. “I wish I could do more for him. Feelings ain’t my strong suit.”

“He will heal in time.” The Bright One smiled. “For now I imagine that he will want some space. We can have-”

She stopped and looked behind her.

A wave of silence swept through the crowd, which parted leaving a straight path between the party and the oldest and strangest looking dryad any of them had ever seen. Not that that was saying too much considering that dryads were somewhat rare, but the half-wolf form that she took was bizarre by most any standards. Her skin, where visible, was ether rough, flaking bark, or fleshy in a way that just looked wrong. The moss that hung off her fur was so prevalent that it was impossible to determine what was hair and what was plant. Each step shook her whole body; even standing still it seemed like the wind might blow her away.

Dominating her features were her massive branch-like antlers, covered in fiery leaves. Withered brown leaves hid amongst the bright reds and golds.

She was hunched over a staff - a small tree, really. If she were to stand upright, she would probably be pushing twelve feet.

“First Mother,” The Bright One said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you to be active.”

“I’m old, not dead,” the First Mother said, her gruff voice skillfully projected. “I can still uproot myself when the time calls for it.”

She turned to Mizar.

“So,” she said, “you must be the latest Mizar.”

“That’s me.”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Mizar,” Mizar said. “My name is Mizar.”

“Well that’s sure confusing.”

“That’s what I said!” Alcor said. “But she was all ‘oh who cares it’s perfect’.”

“And of course you can’t deny your twin star anything.”

“Look Catreena, have you ever tried fighting with a Mizar? Once they’ve made up their mind about something they’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Whatever.” She turned back to Mizar. “I heard you all went out of your way to help one of my kids.”

“It was nothing, really,” Mizar said.

“Oh, it’s something alright. A Mizar traveling with Alcor… you got something you want to get done. And you still went out of your way to get some kid what he needed, even if he didn’t want it. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Mizar said.

“So tell me, what is it that you’re doing?”

“I’m going to fix the corruption,” Mizar declared. “To bring back what was lost with the Calamity.”

“No you damn well aren’t,” The First Mother snapped.

“Excuse me?” Mizar asked.

“There are some things that are better off forgotten, kid,” the First Mother said. “Don’t get me wrong, low infant mortality rates and a stable population were great. I’d love to see the return of vaccines and what have you. Instantaneous communication? Still miss that. But the other crap? The social side of things? You don’t understand what it was like to live back then. To be a preter, to be the wrong ‘kind’ of human, to move wrong, or act wrong, or look wrong, or to be born under the wrong circumstances… you might as well not be a person. There had been millennia of power and wealth being secured by a small group of people and everyone outside of that group didn’t matter. We had the ability to cure just about any ailment but people still died of sickness because they didn’t have the right resources to exchange for treatment. You could communicate instantly with anyone anywhere on the planet, but everything was monitored and if you said the wrong thing you would be locked away.”

“How could a small group of people keep control for that long?”

“There was a lot to it,” she explained. “Partially, they had the best of the best of the wonderful technology of the ancients. When you have a whole fleet of machines, any one of which could take down a small army, no one is going to successfully overpower you. A lot of it wasn’t brute force, though. Information was carefully controlled. It didn’t occur to many people that there was any better way things could be. Conversation was monitored to the point that it was almost impossible to find or plan protests, don’t mention an actual revolt. And there was a lot of propaganda, saying that everyone was being treated equally, and those who said otherwise were just lazy, not working hard enough, and trying to get special treatment. Or that anyone could become one of the elites with enough hard work, and because of how hard the elites worked they deserved the obscene amounts of power they held.”

“This does make some of the things I’ve read make more sense,” Mizar said. “They were really obsessed with work, weren’t they?”

“In this area, yeah. Other places put less focus on work ethic and a bit more on other things to control the masses.”

“Were there any places that didn’t put a huge effort into ‘controlling the masses’?”

“I don’t know, probably. It was a long time ago and I didn’t give a rat’s ass about foreign politics back then.” She shrugged. “But most of the world was a powder keg. If the Calamity hadn’t happened first it really was only going to be so long before someone figured out how to summon the right demon to bring it all down. Then again, people had been saying that for centuries before the Calamity happened, so maybe it really was a stable clusterfuck. Whadda I know?”

“How did things get that bad?”

She made a noncommittal grunt. “I was never a history person until my life became history. If I had to guess I’d say the answer probably has something to do with colonialism. That’s definitely why white humans were in control, at any rate.” She shook her head. “Anyway, enough about the shitty past, let’s talk about the shitty present. Where you headed to that you think you can do something about the corruption at?”

“Apparently the largest collection of books on magic from before the Calamity is still intact,” Mizar said. “I’m starting to get an idea about what I might do, but I need to get a lot more information before I can hope to execute it.”

“So you’re going to Gravity Falls,” the First Mother said. “You’re with Alcor, so I’m sure you’ll be fine, but... be careful. You’re not the first person to get the idea that finding that library might be useful. It was a pretty common quest back when people still remembered it existed, actually. But the people who go looking for that place, they had a tendency to disappear. I haven’t heard of anyone making it to that town since the Calamity happened, and we get our fair share of people from everywhere, what with being one of the only suppliers of honey and all.”

“I don’t suppose you would know what might be making people disappear?”

“They wouldn’t exactly be disappeared if they could come back and say what happened, now would they?” She sighed. “Anyway. I’m old and tired, so unless you have any more questions I think I’m going to be off and and sleep for a couple months. But before I do, Horned One, can we talk?”

Fred looked up in surprise. “Well, sure. And it’s Fred, if you will. I haven’t really done anything to earn a formal title or nothin.”

“You have horns,” the First Mother said. “Ergo, you are the Horned One.”

“Well I suppose that is a pretty literal thing, and I can’t really deny that. But the way you’re saying it makes me think there’s more to it than just that, and I’m not sure I’ve really done anything to earn being the Horned One instead of just being some guy with horns.”

“There is more to it than just the horns, but that doesn’t mean it ain’t you,” she said. “Look, I don’t mean to make an argument out of this, let’s just talk.”

The First Mother led Fred slowly away from the rest of the group, towards the grove of trees in the center of the town.

“How long do you think you will be staying?” The Bright One asked.

“I’m itching to get on the road again, if that’s all the same to you guys,” Mizar said. “We’ll stay the night. And in the morning? We’re going to Gravity Falls.”

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

#A Better Birthright #Transcendence AU #My Shit #fic

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crispyflowerblaze · 7 years

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school tips, because maybe i can give better advice than administration, who just loves to tell us to get involved 3000000000000 times a day

Find to have some fun each day. Okay, yeah, this is pretty hard. And sometimes impossible, but I think it’s pretty important to try, at least a few times a week or whenever the heck you want, to do something fun by yourself either outside or in your room. Something I’m gonna try to do every day is play a few songs from a musical (probably Book of Mormon) and like just completely PERFORM it, like jump on my bed, dance all over, and sing loudly and stuff like that, IT’S SO FUN and i recommend it!!!!! I just really hope you’re able to do something fun

Okay, spoiler alert, this is actually basically taken from an actual school recommended tip. I’m gonna try to summarize my day after school, I have a google doc called “summarizing what i did each day, or using memes to help me remember stuff” and I just do what the title says, but I also... use memes... which just memes it’s not completely serious, and then I have a “general stuff” section, which explains itself I guess, and then, the best part, is “today’s big mood” and that’s taking one funny or relatable thing I remember that happened. And I think this is gonna be helpful because I can look back on previous days and review, also I can remember funny things and I love doing that!

Use memes in your notes/other shit. This is probably the most important tip. Making “actual serious notes” is SO. BORING. And this is speaking as an A student who most of the time only capitalizes things in personal writing (not stories; like non-story google docs and tumblr posts) for THIS KIND OF STUFF and uses a whole fricking ton of wrong spelling for stuff. I wanted this to be at least a tiny “professional” so I’m capitalizing my “I”s blah blah blah. But when people tell you using text speech will destroy how you write, DON’T. LISTEN. Okay, I’m getting off topic, but anyways, MAKE NOTES AND STUFF FUN. I do this with memes and by shortening EVERYTHING. Do references and funny stuff and if you don’t have free time for fun things, try to make you study/homework time fun!!! Please!!!!! I want you to have fun!!!!!! FUN. IS. FUN. (also, unrelated, but doing things like CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING is really an amazing freedom if you’ve worried about it being annoying. please do things on personal writing and tumblr posts that you have worried about people judging you for! the freedom is amazing!)

USE GOOGLE DOCS. Another really important one for people whose school uses a lot of technology. Google Docs is just amazing, and it’s super convenient!!!!! If you know your email and password (if you’re not sure PLEASE WRITE IT DOWN) then you can always reach it if,,,,, like,,,, you have access to a computer. So if for some reason you have a school laptop that doesn’t connect to your home wifi and you have access to a computer at home, then you can go on that google account and access them; also, it doesn’t take long to get a doc shared and then to go on the account you shared it with. Then from there, or whenever, you can transfer things onto a word or pages document if you need to. So Google Docs should be your go-to thing!!

(adding onto/related to the memes section) Experiment with ways to remember homework/study. Everybody does these things differently, so yeah start with a generic one and make it your own! In 7th grade and most of 8th, I used a “homework chart” which is pretty self explanatory and I filled stuff out for each class. This year I think I’m gonna stick my homework in my summarizing doc. If doing something in a funner (i’m strangely attached to the non-word-but-should-be “funner”) way than the bare minimum of study techniques, FIND OUT WHAT WORKS FOR YOU! Adding onto that, make your own additions to my rules or ignore them completely! Make your own! Whatever! And back to the weird ways to study, last year, for my history EOC, I made possibly the best thing I’ve ever created. It was called “8th grade history in a nutshell” and was sprung from my love of “hamilton in a nutshell” videos and similar ones to other musicals, and the “-musical- in a nutshell” things I’ve done myself. I basically just used memes to describe what I’d learned in history class, using a bunch of Hamilton references, and also, my favorite section, where Andrew Jackson basically just says “FUCK YEAH -something-” or “FUCK NO -something-” because, as I explained, Andrew Jackson was more of a hothead than Alexander Hamilton. So like... I can’t say it enough,,,.. but USE MEMES! That’s what makes learning fun.

Use your knowledge for the True Real-Life Applications. Have you been badgered with that horrible phrase, “real-life applications”? Has it sucked your will to math or science completely? Then reclaim that sucky phrase! My adventures in Reclaiming The Sucky Phrase “Real-Life Applications” include finding out how many miles, feet, and inches there are in a light year, memorizing the number of miles in a light year (um... shoot, i DID have it memorized!), finding out how to pronounce these horribly long numbers, and finding out how many light years the whole human race has probably walked! (2.2 light years. So light travels more in 3 years than the whole human race has walked!) And that was just one day with my friend in science class last year. I also figured out if you could fit the moon in the Pacific Ocean (you can dip it in the center of the Pacific Ocean and it won’t touch continents, but it will touch the bottom, and it’s a LOT taller than the ocean!) and when my dad said (exaggerating, obviously) he got a random pain about every 15 minutes while he was awake, and that he slept about 6 hours a night, I calculated how many times a day, a month, a year, a decade with no leap years (which does not exist XD), a minute, a non-leap-year February, in August, and in a 30 day month he would get a pain. It’s hilarious XD. My point is, you can have fun by figuring things out using the stuff you’ve used and it’s a much better review than homework. (uh, do your homework)

Sometimes musicals can teach you stuff, so like,,,,, listen to musicals,,,,,, that’s all. (Hamilton act 1 for reviewing and Cabinet Battles for history reviews!!!!!!! Trust me)

Speed walking is great! And every time teachers/staff tell you that 5 minutes is completely enough time to CROSS A HUGE CAMPUS THAT YOU BARELY EVEN KNOW WITH A HORRIBLE AMOUNT OF TRAFFIC, I feel you. I am here for you. It’s stupid and unfair. But please, rant to me or somebody who understands how it’s STUPID too instead of teachers/staff. I don’t think it’s a good idea. But yes, please, I understand what you’re going through. It’s dumb as heck.

Judging by all of the “high school will just seem like a bad dream!!” I can assume it’s true. Of course everyone has different high school experiences and problems, but if you want to talk to me and we can rant together, that’d be great!! Ranting is completely fine, so I just hope things will get better. :D

#school #school tips #school hacks #high school #high school tips #using memes to learn #trust me this works #and AHH i'm in HIGH SCHOOL AHH #it's gonna be okay :D

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oldladydatin · 5 years

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One who does not travel, does not know the value of men

“One who does not travel, does not know the value of men” an oh so fitting Moroccan proverb, I am traveling in a way haha and recently to Morocco. I started talking to him on my dating app and well he does the same thing as I do professionally, so I figured he probably wasn’t a psycho. I gave him my number and we started texting and he asked me to meet him. I was excited, he was intelligent, caring, a divorced single father, but then he said he wasn’t from here, he was from Morocco and would that be a problem? I thought I don’t know anything about Morocco except they sell exceptional rugs that people in movies always want to smuggle into the country and wrap bodies in. I just said no why would it be a problem? He says I don’t know? But I got busy and everyday he asked when my next day off was, when can we see eachother, he said that he was excited to meet me. I was a little stressed about money as both my kids presented me with an enormous list of things they needed. I know other women like to date and treat it like it’s free meals and such. I’ve at this point though gotten stuck with the entire bill once or twice, and half more than that. I’m old fashioned I sort of look down my nose at men who do this, especially if they asked me out. I even dismiss these experiences as non dates, then when men think they have some claim on me because we went on a “date” I’m like no we met as friends, remember I paid for half. Due to these experiences I now go to dates with the expectation of paying and so if I’m having weeks where I’ve enormous lists of crap to buy my kids I don’t date. So I kept putting him off and putting him off. Meanwhile I’m reading.

So Morocco is an Arabic, a mostly Islamic country so now I get why he asked if that was okay, I imagine he gets a lot of nopes. He spoke French which was hella sexy, France and Spain both had a lot of interest in Morocco, but they have mostly maintained their Berber traditions. It’s in north Africa and borders the Sahara desert, Atlantic ocean, part of the Mediterranean sea and the Atlas Mountains, and roughly borders Spain. I learned enough to not sound like a dumb American. Eventually he’s irritated with me and demands that we’re going to dinner. So I’m nervous and I never get nervous anymore, but this is so much different than anything I’ve experienced because the man’s only been in the states like 7 years and he’s in his 40′s, he’s vanilla. I knew very little, I’ve an Arabic Master friend, who’s also Muslim and I’ve learned random sexual facts about that culture but nothing helpful in this situation. He turns out to be short, he’s a little taller than me, he’s grey and he wasn’t in any of his pictures, his teeth are crooked, he has a really thick accent, yes I know I sound pretentious but what kinds of things do you notice when you first meet people? That’s what I notice. He’s fit, he’s wearing a wrist brace and he explains he hurt it playing soccer. He opens the door, pulls my chair out, orders for me, he was way more of a gentleman than any man I’ve dated, and I love that. We start talking and I ask simple questions like how many kids, how long have you been divorced, how long have you been in the field, and he asked the same questions and before I knew it a lot of time had passed. We don’t work in the same departments, my job is more technical, but we have things we can talk about and this date goes well. I’ve never dated anyone in my same field and it was kind of nice to have someone who could really related to what I do, and what I go through. I liked that we had that in common, people at work have tried to set me up with guys at work or at other places. Like we work so many hours that the only people any of us tend to socialize with is each other. There’s a few guys who’ve made it known they were interested, I turned them down, at that time I was seeing Eric and was just stupid. But partially I thought I don’t know? I’d never get away from work if I dated someone from there. But I enjoyed this, it is hard finding people who really understand what I go through. We kissed and he wasn’t like the best kisser ever but it definitely wasn’t the worst and he got close and said he’d like to see me again. We are texting over the next week and he tells me he finds me beautiful, he enjoyed our date, when can he see me again.

Even though this doesn’t go badly, I wasn’t blown away and I felt bad about that because he didn’t do anything wrong, I just wasn’t really excited by him. Maybe I’m too picky, I don’t know? He keeps on me about seeing each other again. One day I said okay why don’t we meet down at the famous Starbucks's of first dates and drink a tea on the patio, it was nice out. I thought at the very least it’d get him off my back. He was excited by this and he meets me. Again the conversation is great and he’s a little more touchy feely than he had been. After about an hour he asks if I’d like to drive around? I’m excited by this because I was seeing a Dom guy for awhile and when he said let’s go drive around he took me to pretty places. We drove around in the mountains, or went down by the river, we went to lakes and ponds and fed ducks, so I’ve been conditioned to be excited when I hear this, with this Dom I was seeing it meant I was getting a treat. No we start driving up by the mountain and we’re talking and then he says do you want to see where I live and I said okay. I really thought we were just going to drive by but no he takes me to his house. So I go in and his daughters are small and there’s kids toys everywhere which was really cute, I actually genuinely love kids. His house is very much like I expected after my research on Morocco, like he definitely kept his cultural tastes, but his decor was pretty and his house felt homey. But you could still tell he was a bachelor in a lot of ways. He says let me show you around and of course gradually leads me to the bedroom. I’m sitting on the bed while he’s looking for music and he puts on some crazy music I’d never heard before. I felt like I had stepped into another country at this point.

He sits by me and starts kissing me and feeling me through my clothes, he keeps offering to take his clothes off. I’m like no that’s okay but he keeps pushing. He’s extremely dominant in this situation and he really tries to take control. He keeps making jokes like you’re not allergic to Moroccans are you? You wanna see how big Moroccans are don’t you? Eventually I give in, it’s been a few weeks because my fwb became homeless and he agrees to wear a condom and all the attention turns me on. He kept pointing out we’re consenting adults and this is okay. I ask him if he’d been with an American and he said yes. I asked how do American women differ from Moroccan women in bed, he says Moroccan women just lay there, and I thought that was odd. He asked what my favorite position was? I’ve been asked this alot lately. I said I love to be on top, so he asks do you like to be in control, and I answer no not at all. He sticks his hands in my pants and plays until he’s happy and pulls my pants down and undresses me. He seemed excited by how large my boobs are, I get that alot. He undresses and I’m a bit surprised at his penis. I should’ve researched this part more. I guess I expected he wouldn’t be circumcised but he was, but I was mentally prepared for it to not be. It’s not as large as I was expecting. My Master friend was quite large, he’d sent me pictures and he told me men from that continent were above average. This guy was probably average but incredibly thick, which is okay I think I like thick better anyways. So we have sex and it feels amazing. I have a hard time orgasming, and I frequently use a toy during sex, but I don’t have my toy, and I didn’t get enough foreplay, so I don’t cum. We haven’t ever discussed sex so he didn’t know this. When he realizes I didn’t cum, I didn’t fake it, I was honest, he’s incredibly upset. But we cuddle in bed and kiss and make jokes and talk about seeing each other again. He suddenly gets up and gets another condom and says you have to cum before you leave and I tell him I don’t think I can, he insists we try and he plays with me until I’m ready. I get on top and I was up there for a long time, and then I had to just say look it’s not going to happen, and he turns me over and wants to try doggy. This was amazing sex, this felt so good and I was getting kind of loud. So he finishes and is even more upset to find out that no I still didn’t cum.

I’m not going to fake it to leave like I had with someone else because sex is amazing and he is more than welcome to keep trying. This may be the perfect sized dick for me to be honest. But we again lay there and I’m catching my breath and he’s upset and he’s very insistent and says you HAVE to cum before you leave. This is so odd, like I felt like I was being held hostage because I wasn’t orgasming like he wanted. I said I wish I could and explain that I just have a hard time orgasming and I sometimes need assistance, I tell him I have to go home, I told him to begin with I had a certain time I had be home. He says no, not until you orgasm. I’m like dude what? That’s not how any of this works. Then he suddenly says to me oh I know we haven’t tried this and he grabs me and puts me in a different position and we go again and again it feels incredibly but I never get there. As he’s doing this I think how on earth is this 40 something year old man on his third round? I had been there for hours? So now by round three my heads not even in this because I realize it’s not going to happen and I’m now contemplating completely unrelated things. But holy crap does this feel great, again though nothing and he’s like really upset by this. I don’t understand, most men don’t even care. So I’m not sure what to think, I felt bad for disappointing him, I was upset that he was upset but I also realize I need to go home and I’m worried about whether or not this is going to continue because you can’t hold a girl hostage because she can’t orgasm, that’s just not a thing. So he starts insisting that I go hiking with him in the morning, I say I can’t I have things planned, okay let’s have lunch in the afternoon, I say I can’t tomorrow but let’s make a plan. Then I think maybe he thinks I’m not going to go out with him again because I didn’t have an orgasm? This whole scenario is completely unexpected. He goes to the bathroom and I hurriedly get dressed so he has to take me home. He seems incredibly disappointed when he comes back in the room. I ask to use the bathroom and when I come out I’m happy to see he has his clothes on and is prepared to take me back to my car. But when he drops me off I kiss him good bye and there’s definitely some attitude, he’s extremely pissed off that I didn’t cum. Now I kind of want to call him because just thinking about him behind me the way he was and how good it felt, really really turns me on, but then I’m not sure because I started to worry I done messed around and became a sex slave for real this time.

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trhu · 5 years

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Hu I am

By Teri Roah Hu It’s funny to think that the name by which most people know me, the name I think of as my identity, is not the name I was born with, nor the name my parents chose for me. It is a uniquely American concoction, if the internet is to be believed. No one else shows up in a Google search of my name. Other than links about me, the main things that show up when you google “Teri Hu” are a ridiculous lot of Hindi love songs. Apparently, “teri hu” means “I’m yours” in informal Hindi. There is another “Teri Hu” on Facebook, who coincidentally lives in Taipei, where I was born. But obviously, “Teri” is not her legal name there, it’s just an English name that she uses on social media. It’s weird to think I might be the only person on the planet with this name, officially. Of course, back in 1970 when I was born in Taiwan, my parents did not give me an English name either. At birth, I was named 胡柔柔, or Hu Rou-rou, because in Chinese, surnames come first. The meaning of Hu is complicated. Except as a last name, it is never used as a stand-alone word, so far as I know, but only as part of a phrase that can mean a lot of unrelated things: hutong (胡同)=alley, huzi (胡子)=beard, hutu (胡涂)=confused. There seems to be no relationship between these words and the use of “hu” in them. Hu is the 13th most common surname in China, but in 43 years, I’ve never known another Hu in the United States that I wasn’t related to. That tells you a lot about how becoming an American has fundamentally changed everything in my life. Would I have been such a misfit if I’d stayed in Taiwan? Am I intrinsically weird, or just weird compared to theoretically “normal” white Americans? I’ll probably never know, because now, when I travel back to Asia, I’m the weirdo that looks Chinese, but is American on the inside. Misfit on two continents, that’s me. My mother chose my Chinese name, Rou-rou (柔柔), long before I was born. Ever since she was a teenager, she had visions of a daughter who was soft, tender, and delicate...a princess of her very own. So she latched onto “rou” and doubled it for emphasis. Needless to say, she did not get the daughter she hoped for. Instead of the Sansa she had always dreamed of, she got an Arya. Rou-rou wasn’t even supposed to be my legal name, just a pet name. My mother assumed my father would come up with a more official sounding legal name based on his family’s generational poem, per Chinese tradition. Had he done that, my name would’ve likely been “Hu Sirou” (胡斯柔) which at least sounds like a grown-up instead of a toddler. But daddy--being somewhat literal-minded and not caring too much about tradition in the first place--just put her pet name down on the family register when I was born, and there I was, saddled with a ridiculously squishy baby name that would never fit my skeptical, hard-nosed temperament. This miscommunication about what to name their firstborn child was a harbinger of my parents’ impending divorce. The two of them never really learned how to talk to each other, and the pained, awkward silences of my childhood taught me how important it was for a family to be able to say anything to each other, even if it meant fighting it out instead of keeping the peace. Peace and quiet is worth nothing if everyone is seething with unspoken resentments inside. The miscommunication only got worse when we came to the United States in 1975, and the English name they gave me then is a perfect example of how unprepared either of them were for American life. Mother asked daddy to find an English name that meant the same thing as “rou,” so he looked up “tender” in the dictionary, and found it was based on the Greek word, “teren” or “τέρην.” Without any real understanding of English names--even though they picked perfectly normal names for themselves, “Fred” and “Tina”--they settled on “Teren” for me, with no idea of the hell they were about to unleash on a five year old. So, “Teren Rou-rou Hu” was the name on the roster when I started kindergarten two months after arriving in this country, which probably confused the heck out of my teacher. She was a very old white lady, called Mrs. House, and I think it was actually her last year teaching. It was also a very white school, and I was the only Asian kid, so there was literally no one on campus who could speak to me for the first few weeks, before I started to pick up English. In that horrific time, before I could really talk back, I was targeted for being different in incomprehensible ways. Even though at first, I literally could not understand what people were saying to me, I knew they were being cruel; that I was being singled out and tormented, and it infected my first few months in America with a fear and anger that has essentially never gone away, even as I got better at standing up for myself and fighting back. That’s the nature of trauma. What I remember: *Random boys I didn’t know following me home from school yelling “flatface” and “flatnose” while throwing the occasional dirt clod at me. *Random boys from my class running up to me making rowing motions with their arms while singing “Row, row, row your boat.” *Being asked if I was a boy, because “Teren” sounds like a boy’s name. Sometimes, even adults would ask this. I was a tomboy, but I had long hair and wore dresses, so I don’t really understand WHY there would have been any confusion about my gender. I was visibly female, no matter what my stupid name was. *All sorts of kids chanting “Chinese, Japanese, Dirty Knees, Look at these!” at me on the playground, pulling the fronts of their shirts out as if they had boobs. *Kids coming up and saying, “Knock-knock.” And when I would say, “Who’s there?” They’d just run away laughing. As you can see, a lot of the bullying involved my odd, foreign name, and I grew to hate it with a passion. But I never thought about changing it, somehow, until sixth grade, after we had moved from Fremont to San Francisco. It was just a burden I thought I would have to carry for the rest of my life. Middle school is a different type of hell, but at least in San Francisco, no one paid any attention to my name. That’s the nice thing about a city full of oddball weirdos, you learn to live and let live. When we were twelve, all my friends decided that we would pick cooler names that made us seem older. Ingrid became Ziggy, Laura became Ally Cat, Stepheny became Kaya, and I became Jackie...for Jack Daniels, which was considered cool back then, even though we didn’t actually drink it. Nasty stuff. Clearly, Jackie didn’t stick. I think we used these silly nicknames for maybe six months before it got too confusing to remember and most of us went back to the names our parents gave us. Except Ziggy. She stayed Ziggy well into her twenties, but last I heard, is back to being Ingrid and lives in Vermont. But adopting a different name, even briefly, made me realize that I had options. Something completely different from “Teren” might be hard to sell, but why not something closer? And the obvious choice was “Teri.” It stuck. Normally, Teri is a nickname for Teresa, which means “reaper” or “harvester,” but I don’t think that really applies in my case. People occasionally assume my full legal name is Teresa, but it’s been less of an issue than you’d think. I’ve been Teri, now, for 36 years, and it fits. It’s a comfortable name that no one has ever been able to twist into something hurtful. The worst I’ve heard was “Scary Teri,” but honestly, I’m fine with being a little scary. Scary is better than soft, right? There was still the problem of my stupid middle name, though. Rou-rou just sounds awful in any language. It took a few more years to figure that one out. At the end of senior year in high school, a few weeks before graduation, we had to submit our full, legal names to be printed on our diplomas. My high school diploma meant a lot to me, since I had to really struggle to earn it, having failed four classes in my sophomore year, which cost me three semesters of night classes and summer school to make up. I hated the idea of seeing my awful Chinese name printed on something I’d worked so hard for. A friend of mine also had a Chinese middle name, which should be spelled “De-Fen.” I’d only heard it, never seen it, so I just assumed she spelled it the “normal” way, according to the rules of pinyin. But when I saw it printed on one of her graduation announcements, I was shocked. She’d spelled it “Derphine,” which looked SO MUCH BETTER!! I thought, I didn’t know you could do that! And Rou-rou became Roah, which means nothing. (Well, technically, there is an acronym, ROAH, which means “Restraining Order After Hearing,” but that doesn’t affect me at all.) It was so easy, once I realized that I didn’t have to follow the rules of romanization or anything else, to create an identity that actually suits me. And that is how I wound up with a name that I chose for myself as a child, that no one else in this whole world has. Teri Roah Hu, is, so far as I know, a singularly unique name in the universe. And I’m perfectly happy with it.

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Pelvic Organ Prolapse

Overview

Pelvic organ prolapse (POP) occurs when one or more organs in your pelvis—your uterus, vagina, urethra, bladder or rectum—shifts downward and bulges into or even out of your vaginal canal. In the United States, 24 percent of women have some sort of POP. Just one symptom that can be associated with the condition—urinary incontinence—costs the country more than $20 billion annually in direct and indirect medical costs, while surgeries to correct POP cost more than $1 billion annually. Approximately 200,000 surgeries are done each year in the United States to correct POP. The condition is poised to become much more common in the United States and other Western countries with the aging of the Baby Boomers (women ages 45-63). In fact, an estimated 11 to 19 percent of women will undergo surgery for POP or urinary incontinence by age 80 to 85, and 30 percent of them will require an additional surgery to correct the problem. Many women don’t have any symptoms of POP. Those who do may experience a feeling of vaginal or pelvic fullness or pressure or feel as if a tampon is falling out. They may also experience incontinence, uncomfortable intercourse, pain in the pelvic area unrelated to menstruation, lower back pain and difficulty getting stools out.. Some women also complain of not being able to fully void stools and of fecal soiling of their underwear. Treatments include lifestyle options, such as exercises to strengthen the pelvic floor, devices designed to support the pelvic organs, physical therapy and surgery to repair damaged ligaments and reposition the prolapsed organs. For women not planning to have sex, obliterative surgeries, which close off the vaginal opening, are also an option. Risk factors for POP include pregnancy (particularly pregnancies that have ended with a vaginal birth, especially a forceps-assisted birth), genetic predisposition, aging,obesity, estrogen deficiency, connective tissue disorders, prior pelvic surgery and chronically increased intra-abdominal pressure from strenuous physical activity, coughing or constipation. In many cases, women with POP have at least two or more risk factors. Having been pregnant with and given birth to a child—particularly two or more children—is a significant risk factor. According to the National Association for Continence, as many as 50 percent of women who have ever given birth have some degree of POP. While cesarean section delivery reduces the risk of POP and urinary incontinence, there is still no good evidence to support elective cesarean sections for preventing POP. Having a hysterectomy may also increase your risk of POP, depending on how the surgery was performed and how well the surgeon reattached the ligaments that typically hold up the uterus to the top of the vagina, where the cervix used to be. Genetic factors also contribute to your risk of POP. If possible, talk to your mother, grandmother, aunts and sisters about any pelvic organ problems they’ve had. Also ask about urinary and fecal incontinence; although it’s embarrassing to talk about, both are often associated with POP.

Diagnosis

The most common symptoms associated with pelvic organ prolapse (POP) are related to urination. You may have feelings of urgency, in which you suddenly have to urinate, find yourself urinating more often than normal, experience urinary incontinence or have difficulty urinating and completely emptying your bladder. Some women experience painful intercourse, problems reaching orgasm and reduced sexual desire or libido. Although prolapse does not directly interfere with sexuality, it may affect self-image. Data shows that women with urge incontinence have the most problems with sexuality and that POP interferes with sexuality more than any other form of incontinence. Some women avoid sex because they are embarrassed about the changes in their pelvic anatomy, and some worry that having sex will “hurt” something or cause more damage. You may also experience problems in the rectal area. Some women with POP have pain and/or straining during bowel movements, and some experience anal incontinence, in which they inadvertently release stool. Other symptoms include feeling as if a tampon is falling out. In fact, if the cervix has descended into the vagina, you may find you can’t use a tampon at all. However, doctors may have trouble diagnosing the condition because many symptoms can be related to situations and medical conditions unrelated to POP. The following questions can help alert your doctor to the possibility that you may have POP: Do you ever have to push tissue back in the vagina to urinate? Do you have to use your fingers in the vagina, on the perineum (the area between the anus and vagina) or in the rectum to have a bowel movement? Do you ever feel a bulge or that something is “falling out” of your vagina? Or do you feel like you’re sitting on an egg? Let your doctor know if you answered yes to any of these questions. Diagnosing POP begins with a complete medical history and physical examination. The doctor will carefully examine your vulva and vagina for any lesions or ulcers and will perform an internal examination to identify any prolapsed organs. The doctor will also conduct a rectal examination to test for the resting tone and contraction of the anal muscle and to look for any abnormalities in that region. The doctor may also examine you while you’re standing (to see if gravity brings the organs down) and may ask you to strain as if you were urinating or having a bowel movement. A check of the nerves and reflexes in this area may be included. POP refers to a displacement of one of the pelvic organs (uterus, vagina, bladder or rectum). These displacements are typically graded on a scale of 0 to 4, with 0 being no prolapse and 4 being total prolapse (called procidentia). Your doctor will determine which type of prolapse you have. The different types include the following: Bladder prolapse (cystocele). In this form, the bladder falls toward the vagina, creating a bulge in the vaginal wall. Usually the urethra also prolapses with the bladder, called urethrocele. The two together are called cystourethrocele. Symptoms include stress incontinence (when you urinate a little when you sneeze, cough, jump, etc.) or problems urinating. Rectal prolapse (rectocele). In this form, the bladder falls toward the vagina, creating a bulge in the vaginal wall. Usually the urethra also prolapses with the bladder, called urethrocele. The two together are called cystourethrocele. Symptoms include stress incontinence (when you urinate a little when you sneeze, cough, jump, etc.) or problems urinating. Uterine prolapse (uterine descensus). This is a very common form of POP. It occurs when the ligaments that hold the uterus in place weaken, like a rubber band that’s been stretched too often. This causes the uterus to fall, weakening the back walls of the vagina. Vaginal vault prolapse. This form occurs when the vaginal supports weaken and the vagina drops into the vaginal canal after a hysterectomy. It may also occur when the front and back walls of the vagina separate, allowing the intestines to push against the vaginal wall in a form of prolapse called enterocele. Enterocele may occur with a uterus in place, but vaginal vault prolapse occurs only after hysterectomy when the uterus no longer supports the top of the vagina. Tests Your doctor may order several tests to confirm a diagnosis of POP. These include: Urinary tract infection screening. You pee in a cup and your urine is evaluated for the presence of bacteria. Postvoid residual urine volume test. This determines if any urine remains in your bladder after voiding. After urinating, the doctor or nurse inserts a catheter, or thin tube, into the urethra to measure any remaining urine or uses an ultrasound to identify any urine remaining in the bladder. Urodynamic testing. This test uses special sensors placed in the bladder and rectum or vagina to measure nerve and muscle response. If you have problems with bowel movements, your doctor will likely refer you to a gastroenterologist for a thorough evaluation, including a colonoscopy to rule out colon cancer, which can cause constipation and straining. You may also have pressure testing of the rectum known as manometry.

Treatment

Pelvic organ prolapse (POP) is not a dangerous medical condition. Treatment options range from doing nothing and observing your condition over time to surgery to correct the prolapse. The choice of treatment typically depends on how your POP affects your quality of life, on your overall health and on your physician’s expertise. Nonsurgical options Observation. If you’re not having symptoms, or your symptoms are not interfering with your quality of life, you should choose a wait-and-see approach. Every year, you undergo a complete examination to evaluate your POP. Just make sure you contact your health care professional if your condition changes during the year. If you have no symptoms, treatment cannot improve your quality of life and should be avoided. Addressing symptoms. Another option is to address any symptoms you have without actually “fixing” the underlying prolapse. For instance, if you’re experiencing urinary or fecal incontinence, your doctor may recommend Kegel exercises (described below) or medication. If you are constipated and straining with bowel movements, then changing your diet, adding fiber supplements or taking medications such as laxatives may help. Kegel exercises. These exercises strengthen your pelvic floor, which can help strengthen your organs in the pelvic region and may relieve pressure from prolapse. To make sure you know how to contract your pelvic floor muscles correctly, try to stop the flow of urine while you’re going to the bathroom. If you can do this, you’ve found the right muscles. But do not do the actual exercises while stopping the stream of urine or you may develop a voiding dysfunction.To do Kegel exercises, empty your bladder and sit or lie down. Contract your pelvic floor muscles for three seconds, then relax for three seconds. Repeat 10 times. Once you’ve perfected the three-second contractions, try doing the exercise for four seconds at a time and then resting for four seconds, repeating 10 times. Gradually work up to keeping your pelvic floor muscles contracted for 10 seconds at a time, relaxing for 10 seconds in between. Aim to complete a set of 10 exercises, three times a day. Pessaries. Pessaries are diaphragm-like devices placed in the vagina to support the pelvic organs. They are commonly used in women with POP to reduce the frequency and severity of symptoms, delay or avoid surgery and prevent the condition from worsening.Most pessaries are made from silicone, plastic or medical-grade rubber. Silicone is probably best, since it is nonallergenic, doesn’t absorb odors or secretions, can be repeatedly cleaned and is pliable and soft. You typically remove the pessary at bedtime and replace it in the morning, although you can arrange to remove it less often or have it removed and cleaned at your doctor’s office. Most doctors prescribe vaginal estrogen with a pessary in postmenopausal women to prevent any irritation of the vaginal walls. Surgery An estimated 11 to 19 percent of women will undergo surgery for POP or urinary incontinence by age 80 to 85. The goal of surgery for POP is to improve your symptoms by addressing the underlying cause. Surgery can be reconstructive, which corrects the prolapsed vagina while maintaining or improving sexual function and relieving symptoms, or obliterative, which moves the organs back into the pelvis and partially or totally closes the vaginal canal. Surgery may involve repairs to any pelvic organs, including the various parts of the vagina, the perineum (the region between your vagina and anus), bladder neck and anal sphincter (anus). The goal of surgery is to reposition the prolapsed organs and secure them to the surrounding tissues and ligaments. Sometimes synthetic mesh is used to hold the organs in place. Although hysterectomy is still commonly performed in women with symptomatic POP, several other surgical procedures are available. Which your doctor recommends depends on your condition and the specific type of prolapse. Surgeries can be performed through an abdominal incision, vaginally or laparoscopically, with or without robotic assistance, through small incisions in your belly. Studies find that the vaginal or laparoscopic approach results in fewer wound complications, less postoperative pain and shorter hospital stays than with open abdominal surgery. Today, a large number of POP surgeries are performed vaginally, laparoscopically or robotically. However, all forms carry a risk of relapse. In terms of the surgery itself, procedures vary depending on the type of prolapse. In most cases, surgery for POP is performed under general or regional anesthesia (epidural or spinal), and patients may stay in the hospital overnight. Here’s an overview of the surgical procedures used to treat the various forms of POP: Rectal prolapse (rectocele). Surgery to repair a rectocele, or prolapse of the rectum, is performed through the vagina. The surgeon makes an incision in the wall of the vagina and secures the rectovaginal septum, the tissue between the rectum and the vagina, in its proper position using the patient’s connective tissue. The opening of the vagina is tailored to the appropriate dimension, and extra support is reinforced between the anal opening and the vaginal opening. Bladder prolapse (cystocele). Surgery to correct bladder prolapse, or cystocele, is usually performed through the vagina. The surgeon makes an incision in the vaginal wall and pushes the bladder up. He or she then uses the connective tissue between the bladder and the vagina to secure the bladder in its proper place. If urinary incontinence is also a factor, the surgeon may support the urethra with a sling made out of a special nylon like material. Prolapse of the uterus (uterine descensus).In postmenopausal women or women who do not want more children, prolapse of the uterus is often corrected with a hysterectomy. In women who want more children, a procedure called uterine suspension may be an option. Some doctors now use laparoscopic surgery or vaginal surgery to repair the ligaments supporting the uterus so that hysterectomy is not necessary. This operation requires only a short hospital stay, has a quicker recovery time and involves less risk than a hysterectomy. The long-term results, however, are still being studied, so talk to your health care professional about what’s right for you. If you have heavy bleeding or other uterine problems, you may want to consider hysterectomy, but if there are no other problems than prolapse, the ligament repair may be preferable. Generally, surgery for prolapse is not recommended until after you have completed childbearing because pregnancy can make it worse. Vaginal vault prolapse and herniated small bowel (Enterocele). Vaginal vault prolapse and herniated small bowel often occur high in the vagina, so surgery to correct the problems may be done through the vagina or the abdomen. There are a number of surgical procedures used to treat these forms of POP. The most common involves vaginal vault suspension, in which the surgeon attaches the vagina to the sacrum. This can be done through an incision in the abdomen, by laparoscopy (belly button surgery) or via robotic surgery. Robotic surgery takes many hours but accomplishes the surgery without a big incision. In the past, these surgeries have sometimes involved the placement of nylon mesh to suspend the vagina.However, in July 2011, the FDA issued a warning concerning the use of vaginally placed mesh to repair POP, stating that the surgical vaginal placement of mesh may expose patients to greater risk than other surgical methods including the abdominal placement of mesh, and that there is no evidence that surgeries involving mesh lead to better outcomes. Be sure to talk with your health care professional about the best approach for you.

Prevention

Preventing pelvic organ prolapse (POP) begins in your teens. Get in the habit of practicing Kegels or pelvic tilts as done in yoga several times a day, until doing them becomes as routine as brushing your teeth. When you get pregnant, make sure you’re aware of the risks and benefits of a forceps delivery in case one is necessary. A forceps delivery creates a very high risk for incontinence and prolapse. Talk to your health care professional about the options of a vacuum delivery or a cesarean section. Maintaining a healthy weight and quitting smoking may also help prevent pelvic floor problems, including POP. You should also avoid straining during bowel movements and when lifting heavy items, and if you have a chronic cough, get it checked out. Chronic coughing creates the kind of straining that can lead to POP.

Facts to Know

Pelvic organ prolapse (POP) occurs when one or more organs in your pelvis—your uterus, urethra, bladder urethra bladder or rectum—shifts downward and bulges into your vagina. In the United States, about 24 percent of women have some for of POP. Pelvic organ prolapse is poised to become much more common in the United States and other Western countries with the aging of the Baby Boomers. Symptoms of POP include a feeling of pelvic fullness or pressure; feeling as if a tampon were falling out; incontinence; uncomfortable intercourse; pelvic pain (not menstrually related); lower back pain; and difficulty getting stools out. However, many women don’t have any symptoms. Causes of POP include pregnancy, childbirth, aging, obesity and menopause. Straining with bowel movements, lifting heavy items and chronic cough can also contribute to POP. In some cases, hysterectomy can increase the risk, while a cesarean section may reduce it. The condition also has a genetic component. Urinary symptoms are the most common symptoms associated with POP. These include feelings of urgency, frequent urination, urinary incontinence or difficulty urinating. Diagnosing POP begins with a complete medical history and physical examination, including an internal exam and an anal examination. Tests to evaluate the health of your urinary system and bladder may be performed. There are four stages of POP, ranging from 0 (no prolapse) to 4 (total prolapse). There are several types of POP, including bladder prolapse, or cystocele; rectal prolapse, or rectocele; uterine prolapse, or uterine descensus; and vaginal vault prolapse. Treatment for POP depends on the type of prolapse. Treatment options range from doing nothing and observing your condition over time to surgery to correct the prolapse. Kegel exercises help strengthen your pelvic floor and may relieve pressure from prolapse. They are an excellent way to treat and prevent POP.

Key Q&A

If I have stress incontinence, does that mean I have pelvic organ prolapse (POP)?No, you can have stress incontinence without having POP. However, stress incontinence is usually related to some weakness in the pelvic floor. It often occurs in conjunction with POP. My doctor says I have some bladder prolapse, but I don’t have any symptoms. How is that possible?Pelvic organ prolapse can be mild to severe and often doesn’t have any symptoms. If you don’t have any symptoms, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, although incorporating pelvic floor exercises into your daily routine to strengthen your pelvic region is a good idea. I’ve been diagnosed with POP. Do I need surgery?That depends on your personal condition. If you don’t have any symptoms and your condition is manageable with lifestyle changes, then you don’t need surgery. Surgery is not foolproof; the prolapse could recur. So try to avoid surgery until your activities of daily living are affected. If you are scheduling your life around your prolapse symptoms, it is time to address them. I’m not sure if I’m doing Kegel exercises properly. How can I tell?A physical therapist or biofeedback expert is your best option when it comes to ensuring that you’re doing Kegels properly. Physical therapists can give you vaginal cones that you place in your vagina. The squeezing pressure you use to keep the cone in the vagina teaches you which muscles to use for Kegels. Biofeedback can also be used to teach you which muscles to exercise. Talk to your health care practitioner about a referral to a physical therapist or a nurse practitioner with this expertise. There also are electrical stimulators that can help to identify and contract the correct muscles. I think I might have vaginal prolapse. Which doctor should I see?While your gynecologist can most likely manage your condition, you might also consider seeing a urogynecologist, a gynecologist who specializes in the care of women with pelvic floor dysfunction. What is the best type of surgery for POP?Again, that depends on the type of prolapse you have and your surgeon’s comfort level with various surgical techniques. Is there any way to prevent POP?Maintaining a healthy weight is important, since there is evidence that being overweight significantly increases your risk of POP. Also, straining when you go to the bathroom, lifting heavy items and chronic cough can contribute to POP. What are the risks involved in not repairing POP?Generally, none. POP won’t shorten your life or lead to other health conditions. In some situations, the prolapsed organs can irritate the vaginal wall, creating ulcers. The greatest risk is that it creates genital, urinary and rectal problems that significantly affect your quality of life. The only emergency situation is if the uterus descends to such a degree that the bladder cannot empty and acute urinary retention occurs. This is rare but requires immediate medical attention.

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#Pelvic Organ Prolapse

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