#...but how do you get yourself through YEARS making something soulless enough to be marketable?

[tlbodine]

The Horror Genius of Five Nights At Freddy’s

I’ve been playing FNAF: Help Wanted VR on my Oculus Quest lately (a birthday present to myself -- I know I’m late to that party!) and it’s reignited in me my old love of this series. I know Scott Cawthon’s politics aren’t great, but I don’t think there’s any malice in his heart beyond usual Christian conservative nonsense -- and I think he stepped down as graciously and magnanimously as possible when confronted about it. Time will judge Scott Cawthon’s politics, and that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I want to talk about what makes these games so damn special, from a horror, design, and marketing perspective. I think there’s really SO MUCH to be learned from studying these games and the wider influence they’ve had as intellectual property. 

What Is FNAF? 

In case you’ve somehow been living under a rock for the last seven years, Five Nights At Freddy’s (hereafter, FNAF) is a horror franchise spanning 17 games (10 main games + some spinoffs and troll games, we’ll get to that), 27 books, a movie deal, and a couple live-action attractions. 

But before it exploded into that kind of tremendous IP, it started out as a single indie pont-and-click game created entirely by one dude, Scott Cawthon. Cawthon had developed other games in the past without much fame or success, including some Christian children’s entertainment. He was working as a cashier at Dollar General and making games in his spare time -- and most of those games got panned. 

So he tried making something different. 

After being criticized that the characters in one of his children’s games looked like soulless, creepy animatronics, Cawthon had his lightbulb moment and created a horror game centered on....creepy animatronics! 

The rest, as they say, is history. 

The Genius of FNAF’s Horror Elements

In the first FNAF game, you play as a night security guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, a sort of ersatz Chuck-E-Cheese establishment. The animatronics are on free-roaming mode at night, but you don’t want to let them find you in your security room so you have to watch them move through the building on security camera monitors. If they get too close, you can slam your security room doors closed. But be careful, because this restaurant operates on a shoestring budget, and the power will go off if you keep the doors closed too long or flicker the lights too often. And once the lights go out, you’re helpless against the animatronics in the dark. 

Guiding you through your gameplay is a fellow employee, Phone Guy, who calls you each night with some helpful advice. Phone Guy is voiced by Cawthon himself, and listening to his tapes gives you some hints of the game’s underlying story as well as telling you how to play. A few newspaper clippings and other bits of scrap material help to fill in more details of the story. 

Over the next set of games, the story would be further developed, with each new game introducing new mechanics and variations on the theme -- in one, you don a mask to slip past the notice of animatronics; in another, you have to play sound cues to lure an animatronic away from you. By the fourth game, the setup was changed completely, now featuring a child with a flashlight hiding from the monsters outside his door -- nightmarish versions of the beloved child-friendly mascots. The mechanics change just enough between variations to keep things fresh while maintaining a consistent brand. 

There are so many things these games do well from a storytelling and horror perspective: 

Jump Scares: It’s easy to shrug these games off for relying heavily on jump scares, and they absolutely do have a lot of them. But they’re used strategically. In most games, the jump scares are a punishment (a controlled shock, if you will) -- if you play the game perfectly, you’ll never be jump-scared. This is an important design choice that a lot of other horror games don’t follow. 

Atmospheric Dread: These games absolutely deliver horror and tension through every element of design -- some more than others, admittedly. But a combination of sound cues, the overall texture and aesthetic of the world, the “things move when you’re not looking at them” mechanic, all of it works together to create a feeling of unease and paranoia. 

Paranoia: As in most survival horror games, you’re at a disadvantage. You can’t move or defend yourself, really -- all you can do is watch. And so watch you do. Except it’s a false sense of security, because flicking lights and checking cameras uses up precious resources, putting you at greater risk. So you have to balance your compulsive need to check, double-check, and make sure...with methodical resource conservation. The best way to survive these games is to remain calm and focused. It’s a brilliant design choice. 

Visceral Horror: The monster design of the animatronics is absolutely delightful, and there’s a whole range of them to choose from. The sheer size and weight of the creatures, the way they move and position themselves, their grunginess, the deadness of their eyes, the quantity and prominence of their teeth. They are simultaneously adorable and horrifying. 

Implicit Horror: One of the greatest strengths to FNAF as a franchise is that it never wears its story on its sleeve. Instead of outright telling you what’s going on, the story is delivered in bits and pieces that you have to put together yourself -- creating a puzzle for an engaged player to think about and theorize over and consider long after the game is done. But more than that, the nature of the horror itself is such that it becomes increasingly upsetting the more you think on it. The implications of what’s going on in the game world -- that there are decaying bodies tucked away inside mascots that continue to perform for children, that a man dressed in a costume is luring kids away into a private room to kill them, and so forth -- are the epitome of fridge horror. 

The FNAF lore does admittedly start to become fairly ridiculous and convoluted as the franchise wears on. But even ret-conned material manages to be pretty interesting in its own right (and there is nothing in the world keeping you from playing the first four games, or even the first six, and pretending none of the rest exist). 

Another thing I really appreciate about the FNAF franchise is that it’s quite funny, in a way that complements and underscores the horror rather than detracting from it. It’s something a lot of other properties utterly fail to do. 

The Genius of Scott Cawthon’s Marketing 

OK, so FNAF utilizes a multi-prong attack for creating horror and implements it well -- big deal. Why did it explode into a massive IP sensation when other indie horror games that are just as well-made barely made a blip on the radar? 

Well! That’s where the real genius comes in. This game was built and marketed in a way to maximize its franchisability. 

First, the story utilizes instantly identifiable, simple but effective character designs, and then generates more and more instantly identifiable unique characters with each iteration. Having a wealth of characters and clever, unique designs basically paves the way for merchandise and fan-works. (That they’re anthropomorphic animal designs also probably helped -- because that taps into the furry fandom as well without completely alienating non-furries). 

Speaking of fan-work, Scott Cawthon has always been very supportive of fandom, only taking action when people would try to profit off knock-off games and that sort of thing -- basically bad-faith copies. But as far as I know he’s always been super chill with fan-created content, even going so far as to engage directly with the fandom. Which brings me to....

These games were practically designed for streaming, and he took care to deliver them into the hands of influential streamers. Because the games are heavy on jump-scares and scale in difficulty (even including extra-challenging modes after the core game is beaten) they are extremely fun to watch people play. They’re short enough to be easily finished over the duration of a long stream, and they’re episodic -- lending themselves perfectly to a YouTube Lets Play format. One Night = One Video, and now the streamer has weeks of content from your game (but viewers can jump in at any time without really missing much). 

The games are kid-friendly but also genuinely frightening. Because the most disturbing parts of the game’s lore are hinted at rather than made explicit, younger players can easily engage with the game on a more basic surface level, and others can go as deep into the lore as they feel comfortable. There is no blood and gore and violence or even any explicitly stated death in the main game; all of the murder and death is portrayed obliquely by way of 8-bit mini games and tangential references. Making this game terrifying but accessible to youngsters, and then marketing it directly to younger viewers through popular streamers (and later, merchandising deals) is genius -- because it creates a very broad potential audience, and kids tend to spend 100% of their money (birthdays, allowances, etc.) and are most likely to tell their friends about this super scary game, etc. etc.

By creating a puzzle box of lore, and then interacting directly with the fandom -- dropping hints, trolling, essentially creating an ARG of his own lore through his website, in-game easter eggs, and tie-in materials -- Cawthon created a mystery for fandom to solve. And fans LOVE endlessly speculating over convoluted theories. 

Cawthon released these games FAST. He dropped FNAF 2 within months of the first game’s release, and kept up a pace of 1-2 games a year ever since. This steady output ensured the games never dropped out of public consciousness -- and introducing new puzzle pieces for the lore-hungry fans to pore over helped keep the discussion going. 

I think MatPat and The Game Theorists owe a tremendous amount of their own huge success to this game. I think Markiplier does, too, and other big streamers and YouTubers. It’s been fascinating watching the symbiotic relationship between these games and the people who make content about these games. Obviously that’s true for a lot of fandom -- but FNAF feels so special because it really did start so small. It’s a true rags-to-riches sleeper hit and luck absolutely played a role in its growth, but skill is a big part too. 

Take-Aways For Creatives 

I want to be very clear here: I do not think that every piece of media needs to be “IP,” franchisable, an extended universe, or a multimedia sensation. I think there is plenty to be said for creating art of all types, and sometimes that means a standalone story with a small audience. 

But if you do want a chance at real break-out, run-away success and forging a media empire of your own, I think there are some take-aways to be learned from the success of FNAF: 

Persistence. Scott Cawthon studied animation and game-design in the 1990s and released his first game in 2002. He released a bunch of stuff afterward. None of it stuck. It took 12 years to hit on the winning formula, and then another several years of incredibly hard work to push out more titles and stoke the fires before it really became a sensation. Wherever you’re at on your creative journey, don’t give up. You never know when your next thing will be The Thing that breaks you out. 

If you want to sell a lot of something, you have to make it widely appealing to a bunch of people. This means keeping your concept simple to understand (”security guard wards off creepy killer animatronics at a pizza parlor”) and appealing to as wide a segment of the market as you can (ie, a horror story that appeals to both kids and adults). The more hyper-specific your audience, the harder it’s gonna be to find them and the fewer copies of your thing you’ll be selling. 

Know your shit and put your best work out there. I think there’s an impulse to feel like “well, nobody reads this anyway, so why does it matter if it’s no good” (I certainly have fallen into that on multiple occasions) but that’s the wrong way to think about it. You never know when and where your break will come. Put your best work out there and keep on polishing your craft with better and better stuff because eventually one of those things you chuck out there is going to be The Thing. 

Figure out where your target audience hangs out, and who influences them, and then get your thing in the hands of those influencers. Streaming and YouTube were the secret to FNAF’s success. Maybe yours will be BookTube, or Instagram, or a secret cabal of free librarians. I don’t know. But you should try your best to figure out who would like the thing that you’re making, and then figure out how to reach those people, and put all of your energy into that instead of shotgun-blasting your marketing all willy nilly. 

You don’t have to put the whole story on the page. Audiences love puzzles. Fans love mysteries. You can actually leave a lot more unanswered than you think. There’s some value in keeping secrets and leaving things for others to fill in. Remember -- your art is only partly yours. The sandbox belongs to others to play in, too, and you have to let them do that. 

If in doubt, appealing to furries never hurts. 

Do I take all of this advice myself? Not by a long shot. But it’s definitely a lot to think about. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go beat The Curse of Dreadbear. 

#horror analysis #writing advice #fnaf

[fanfoolishness]

Translation (The Mandalorian)

(Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages.  Some might have thought the Child had no language at all.  Din Djarin and the Child grow to understand each other.  Fluff, feels, found family. Spoilers through the end of season 2, 2400 words.) 

***

Din Djarin was a man of few words, but he spoke many languages.

His earliest memories, half-forgotten, were soft whispers of his parents’ native tongue.  The Basic they spoke carried a sweet, slurred accent he could hear sometimes in dreams, fading as he grew older.  He had known the name and sounds of their language once, but years among the Children of the Watch had long erased them.

He learned other words to replace them, lost the accent of his youth and exchanged it for one of the Outer Rim.  He absorbed phrases and lessons in ancient Mando’a, wrote them in his mind in a way he could never forget, standing tall for lessons with the other foundlings.  They learned the words in hand and bone and soul, paired with the battle training of body and mind, and the words blazed within him.  They were a forge burning blue-white hot, transforming him slowly into a Mandalorian like his saviors.  He spoke those words on the day they granted him his helmet, and he gladly covered his face, the fire within roaring with a newfound pride.

As a young man he traversed the Rim, face always hidden, ears always open. New words were needed for the work he found.  He picked up enough Jawaese to trade with, though he bore little love for the scavengers; sometimes they were his only choice.  He spoke their language haltingly, enough to do what he needed, his mouth straining to shape itself in ways near impossible for a human.  If it was what the job needed, he’d do it.

His work brought him to worlds near and far, places where rule of law was an outright myth.  He took a great deal of work on Tatooine, and soon realized his marks, if still planetside, always fled to the desert.  

He was no fool.  He brought gifts in trade to the Sand People, meager things he could ill afford, but they sensed his respect, and they gave him words.  He learned their signs, hands practicing the movements at night by their fires.  He practiced until he understood the shape of the grammar, how the signs flowed one to the other, sentences constructed in the air before him.  He asked them for aid, and they told him of the trespassers on their land.

The Guild worked often with the Hutts and their empires, and he found himself bristling at droids taking liberties with his Basic for their Hutt masters.  Protocol droids weren’t the ones who’d devastated his world, of course, but they were soulless, empty things all the same.  He practiced his Huttese in seedy bars, in market squares, rarely with marks who behaved themselves for a chance to stay out of carbonite for a little while.  He spoke to the Hutts in their own language, and they learned, with time, to keep their droids back when dealing with the Mandalorian hunter.  

He picked up other snippets here and there, and understood more than he spoke in Twi’leki, Durese, Bocce.  Language was just another tool, another weapon that could be wielded in service of the Way.  He used it for little else.

Until he found the Child, and the words of the Creed flared deep in his bones.

***

The Child had no language, as far as he could tell.  He tried all of them he had, both spoken and signed, on the journey to Sorgan.  

“What’s your name?”

“Where do you come from?”

“Why did the Imps want you?”

“Who do you belong to?”

The Child just looked at him with interest, no matter which language he tried.  In desperation he even tried out curse words from a few he had no other point of reference for, feeling vaguely guilty for doing so, but it was the only other thing he could think to do.  The Child watched him curiously, small green hands folded politely in his lap as if waiting for Din to finish.  

He ended with a muttered “dank farrik,” and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.  The Child tilted his enormous ears and blinked slowly, looking at him deep in concentration.

“Eee,” he cooed happily, and Din sighed, awkwardly patting the Child on the top of his head.

“That’s okay, kid.  We’ll, uh, we’ll work on it.”

***

He watched the Child with the village children.  They chattered to him eagerly in Basic, calling for him to follow them, patiently laying out the rules in their little games.  A boy might lift the Child up in his arms, then pass him to a girl who would show him how to play with their game of counting sticks and stones.  For his part the Child laughed and played with them as if he’d been there all his life.

He wondered if the kid could understand Basic, but if his mouth just didn’t work the right way to speak it.  He’d never seen another of the kid’s kind, after all.  He practiced with him at nighttime, just little things here and there, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Come here, kid.”

“That’s called soup.  Sooooup.  Can you -- hey, don’t spill it --”

“Don’t touch that.”

“I said, don’t touch that.”

“C’mon, kid, get outta there --”

Well, if the kid understood Basic, he sure had a funny way of showing it.

***

Peli Motto was a good mechanic.  That wasn’t too surprising; spaceport towns usually had pretty good options.  Anyone who couldn’t wield a spanner was weeded out pretty quickly.  More surprising was the way she handled the kid.  

She sat in the landing zone on a shipping crate, the Child on her knee.  He seemed content as she bounced him slightly up and down, letting out cheery little noises periodically and waving his hands.

“How do you know how to do that?” Din asked, examining the Crest’s landing gear and checking the repair job.  Everything looked to be in order.  “He seems to like it.”

“Kids like bouncing,” she said matter-of-factly.  “Doesn’t matter what species  they are.  They like bouncing, food, feeling safe.  All the good stuff.”

He leaned against the landing gear, folding his arms across his chest.  “He… didn’t say anything while I was gone, did he?”

She shook her head.  “Nah.  I think this little one’s too young for language yet.  But I think he understands more than he lets on.”

Din’s mouth twitched in a smirk she couldn’t see.  “You and me both.  He’s stubborn, this one.”

She laughed.  “Reminds me of you.”

***

The Child was starting to become just ‘the child.’  He wasn’t sure when he stopped thinking of the kid so formally.  Maybe it was a side effect of the past several weeks together, leap to leap, world to world.  He was getting used to the little womp rat being there, messing with controls on the ship, getting into trouble, generally making a nuisance of himself.

Except for when he looked up at Din, his dark eyes open and trusting; except for when he fell asleep in the crook of Din’s arm instead of the blankets in his pram.  

He was kid now, mostly.  Sometimes buddy.  Sometimes pal.  The Child was starting to be reserved for when Din talked to other people.  In the Razor Crest, just the two of them, he was just the kid, and Din was just himself.

***

He cradled the kid against his chest as the wind whipped past them, the Rising Phoenix carrying them back to the Crest over the lava fields of Nevarro.  The kid’s little hands clung to his cuirass, but there was no need; Din held him more tightly, more securely, than anything he’d ever carried in his life.

A clan of two.  You are as its father.  

Dying sunlight glinted on the mudhorn signet, a reflection picked up through the slit in his helmet.  He swallowed, then tilted his chin in towards his chest, making sure the kid was okay in the wind.

A little face turned upwards to look at him, big eyes wide, his mouth dropped open in surprise.  Din chuckled a little, despite his aching head from the injury, despite the fate of the Tribe weighing upon him.  The kid liked the ride.  

“Don’t worry, buddy,” he said into the wind.  “I got you.”

***

The kid didn’t speak Basic.  But he spoke something, and Din began to know more and more of what that was.

There was a little tilt of his head and shift of his ears for curiosity.  A slight coo and wide-eyed expression for delight.  An intent narrowing of the eyes with ears held stiff and back towards the tiny shoulders, especially when he wanted to do something that Din very much did not want him to do.

He tugged Din’s leg for food or to be picked up or changed.  He stared at himself in the reflections of Din’s armor and sometimes reached out to touch the shadow faces in their smooth surfaces, looking up at Din in surprise when there was nothing there but beskar.  He waited until Din looked away to play with knobs and buttons on the control console, and Din got better at always keeping an eye on the kid with his helmet turned just slightly towards him, enough to use his peripheral vision.

He found himself speaking more and more to the kid.  Things he didn’t need to say, words that filled the little cockpit of the Razor Crest with a warmth the place had never known.  The words spilled out of him, and the kid soaked them up like sunshine.

“Good job back there.  You were very brave.”

“Come on now, you know better than to mess with that.  … see?  I knew you did.  Good.”

“Feeling hungry?  Let’s see… I’ve got frog legs, bantha milk -- oh, there’s a thing of soup I can warm up for you.  No, those cookies are for after dinner.  You wanna grow big and strong, don’t you, little guy?  Dinner first.  Cookies later.  If you behave yourself.”

“Time for bed, kid.  No fussing.  I can see how sleepy you are.  Come on, I’ll come to bed too.”

“Night.  Get some rest, okay?”

It wasn’t just words he used.  He found a dozen, a hundred reasons during the day to reach out and smooth the kid’s robe collar, or carefully touch the edge of one oversized ear.  He got used to the weight of the kid on his hip or nestled in one arm.  His gloved fingertips were gentle, brushing against the kid’s cheek to clean his little face, checking his hands and feet for dirt or scratches.  He rested a hand against the kid’s back for reassurance, brushed a hand over the curve of the back of his head to help the kid relax and fall asleep.  He got used to small clawed hands nestled in his own.  And sometimes the kid reached up to touch his helmet, little hand slipping under the brim, and Din let it stay.

***

Turned out there were other ways to talk.  The Jedi turned to him in the misty night, firelight golden on her face, telling him years of tragic history, a constant fear, a lingering anger… a name.  

Grogu.  

It was hard to wrap his mind around at first.  The name fit the kid in some ways -- short and kind of ugly, but in a way that turned itself around to be somehow endearing.  But hearing the name lanced him through the heart, cauterizing like a blaster bolt.  Grogu had a name, and had nearly lost it.  He didn’t want that for him.  Remembered, for an instant, how it had felt --

But you had the Way.  What does he have?

He tried to help the kid -- Grogu -- with his powers, tried to show the Jedi what he could do.  He needs training.  I have to make sure he gets it.  He held the little silver ball, proud as anything when Grogu summoned it to his small hand with a snap.  But the Jedi’s refusal to take him slapped him in the face.  

He took Grogu back to the Crest that night, deep in thought, boots leaving little mark upon the loamy forest floor.  Grogu watched his helmet with wide eyes.  For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy.  How many months had he been with the kid, and never found out half of what the Jedi told him in a moment’s conversation?  

“If I could have, I would have, kid,” he murmured.  “...you know that, right?”

Grogu’s hand came up to twist into the cloth of his cowl, brushing against his neck.  

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and the relief he felt was indescribable.

***

There hadn’t been enough time.

One moment he was laughing in the cockpit, overwhelmed by the way Grogu looked up when Din said his name.  One moment he was whooping when the kid used his powers, eagerly telling him he’d done good.  One moment it was just the two of them, happy, hopeful, safe.  

And then the Jedi Seeing Stone lit up with a glow he didn’t understand, and Grogu slipped away from him.

He fought and Fett and Shand fought with him, and through it all he could only think, Grogu. Kid. I’ll protect you!

A messy, chaotic fight, blaster fire, a direct salvo.  The Crest vanishing under a blinding flash, dark figures launching into the sky with precious cargo at a speed the Rising Phoenix couldn’t hope to match.

He failed. 

Grogu was gone.

And he had no words at all.

***

Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages.

Some might have thought the Child had no language at all.

But on an Imperial cruiser, standing before strangers, Din held his son close.  He cradled him to say goodbye, and when the little hand brushed against the brim of his helmet, he lifted it without hesitation, despite the Creed written in bones and blood and beskar.  

Din trembled at the warmth, the softness, of that small hand brushing tenderly against his naked cheek.  And when he opened teary eyes to gaze upon Grogu’s face, he knew exactly what his child was trying to say.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian spoilers #tm spoilers #spoilers #my mando fic

[sunyoonandstars]

🥀 Sanguinem || BTS Vampire! Mafia Boss! Taehyung x Vampire! Reader || AU SERIES || Chapter 1

October called for a fantasy AU. So, here you go, guys. Enjoy! 

📃 Sanguinem Masterlist

🎶 PLAYLIST 🎶

Pairings Vampire Mafia boss! Taehyung x You Vampire! Jimin x You

Word count  2.250

angst, hints of/at and future smut, hints of fluff if you squint maybe? 

🥀 Warnings 🥀 mentions of blood, death, violence, emotional/physical abuse (nothing gruesome, though, I swear)

When your eyes met for the first time, it was as if you could feel the entire universe implode around you. The sight of his inky black orbs knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn't quite believe he was real at first, were convinced your mind was playing tricks on you when he suddenly started walking towards you, making his way through the crowded bar without once breaking eye contact. You could feel his presence even from afar, drawing you in like a magnet.

"I was looking for you, angel."

Those had been the first words Taehyung ever aimed at you. And your first kiss, right then and there, sealed the deal. You readily offered him your everything. And he did the same. Or so you thought at the time.

CHAPTER 1 ||  decay

You never thought you'd see him again. Kim Taehyung. The love of your eternal life. Unfortunately. 

What you wouldn't give to rid yourself of the ghosts of the past, to shed every memory of him like dead skin and be reborn a new, free person. The woman you used to be. Before your paths had crossed centuries ago. In a Paris ravaged by the Second World War, it's glorious beauty tarnished by hunger, grief, and omnipresent anguish that seemed to seep out of every broken window and every pile of rubble like quicksilver, heavy, smothering, contaminating the air and poisoning the people. Watching those tiny, meaningless humans desperately struggling to get back on their feet and restore their precious, shallow city to its former grandeur after years of senseless warfare and pointless destruction, you almost felt pity for them. Almost. 

Over time, you had learned to know better than to feel for them. Those small-minded, greedy creatures that kept on repeating the same foolish mistakes over and over again. Death, destruction, hatred, jealousy. They never learned. They didn't want to learn. You had realized that soon enough. It only took you about two hundred years of immortality to see through humanity and come to terms with the fact that it wasn't you who was the abomination, but, in fact, the very humans you envied so much for their capability to lead the ordinary lives they didn't value. Money and lust, consumption and splendor were all that was on their minds. And you were disgusted by their ignorant frivolity. Which only made it so much easier for you to view them as what they were to you: No more than a source of food. It didn't take you long to entirely abandon your guilty conscience and lose all sense of compassion for the dozens upon dozens of existences you put an end to.

That was until you met him. 

Nothing was what it used to be starting the very second he entered your life. You had never even contemplated the reality of destiny, had never even considered the actuality of fate to be a possibility, just like you had always denied the presence of a higher power, a divinity so to say. Because, if such a higher power were to be, how and why would he allow something like you to be born? A creature abhorrent to nature that needs to kill mercilessly in order to survive? 

Coming across Taehyung, however, led you to call your previous beliefs, or rather their denial, into question. Because you knew the moment you first laid eyes on him: He was meant to be yours, and you were meant to be his. Two of a kind, your lives had been linked long before you were even aware of each other's existence. He held the piece your soul had been missing ever since you awoke at the bottom of a cliff with broken limbs and the burning desire to drink human blood over four hundred years ago, without any memory of how you had gotten there and who you had been before. Taehyung was your mate. The two of you were meant to be. For some reason, you were certain of that fact. More certain than of anything else in your life. 

When your eyes met for the first time, it was as if you could feel the entire universe implode around you. The sight of his inky black orbs knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn't quite believe he was real at first, were convinced your mind was playing tricks on you when he suddenly started walking towards you, making his way through the crowded bar without once breaking eye contact. You could feel his presence even from afar, drawing you in like a magnet. 

"I was looking for you, angel." 

Those had been the first words Taehyung ever aimed at you. And your first kiss, right then and there, sealed the deal. You readily offered him your everything. And he did the same. Or so you thought at the time. 

The first weeks and months were unbelievably intense. You spent them in a dreamy haze, rarely ever leaving your shared hotel room, breaking quite a few beds. Your hunger for each other rendered your never-ceasing thirst for blood meaningless. You went without feeding for days on end. And when your cravings eventually got the better of you, and you were weakened to the point that you were barely able to move your limbs, Taehyung presented you with the ultimate solution to all your problems: Sanguinem. A synthetic substitute for human blood. A drug. Solely designed to fit and sustain the Vampire metabolism. Created by Taehyung himself, invented over the course of centuries. And, just like Taehyung, the Sanguinem came to you as both your salvation and your undoing. 

Sanguinem was blood in its purest, most refined form, offering an all-new kind of high. One that lasted for days but left you with an insatiable longing for more. Just like he did. 

Soon, you could no longer imagine yourself without Taehyung by your side. And, just as well, you could not go a week without your dose of Sanguinem. Taehyung had managed to do what turned out to be his intention from the start: He had made you into his willing puppet, his property. When you were finally onto him and his malevolent agenda, though, it was already too late. There was no going back. Or at least it seemed that way to you. Because, back then, you were too weak. Too weak to resist, to fight off the effect Taehyung had on you, to escape his control. And once he was sure his power over you was absolute, Taehyung introduced you to his 'Crimson Circle'. A ruthless and influential organization that did not only reign over Paris, as you came to know, but dominated the market for blood substitutes all across Europe and East Asia and basically 'owned' nearly every single vampire inhabiting the area. 

You see, the Crimson Circle didn't demand payment solely in the form of money. If you didn't have the financial means to purchase the Sanguinem, there were always other ways to reimburse them. Services one was to provide. Debts that were to be repaid at a time when it came in handy to Taehyung and his mission – which was to protect and preserve the vampire race by seeing to it that a strict set of rules was being followed by every individual within his reach. A mission no one but Taehyung had been strong enough to fulfill so far, but that was more than necessary to be carried out since, during that time, vampires were close to extinction due to the atrocious name they had made for themselves. 

Your likes had been hunted and slaughtered systematically ever since human technology had evolved to a level that enabled them to develop weapons effective enough to combat vampires despite their unnatural strength and heightened senses. Under the cloak of World War One and Two, thousands upon thousands of your kind had been tracked down and executed without trial. Because your species wasn't considered human. You didn't have rights, were mere monsters, soulless, deemed to be even below animals. 

So, keeping a low profile, which meant keeping fellow vampires in line and sparing human lives whenever possible, was of immense importance when it came to remaining undetected and maintaining a steady count of your kind. And, somehow, Kim Taehyung seemed to be just the man to accomplish that. 

He was both cruel and caring, cold and deadly yet gentle and beautiful. A riddle. A living, breathing oxymoron, oozing the kind confidence and innate authority that allowed neither resistance nor objection and demanded to be recognized. 

Taehyung taught you to respect life again, reintroduced you to that softer side of yourself you believed to have killed and buried centuries ago. He gave you, and so many others, a purpose while steadily expanding his network and consolidating his position as the unchallenged leader of the Crimson Circle. 

And you admired him. No. You loved him. With all that was left of your heart. 

Years passed. One, two, five, ten, fifty of them. And, all the while, you were Taehyung's number one. His queen. His sanctuary. His pride and his right-hand woman. Boastfully, he showed you off. His brightest jewel and most valuable possession. And, most of the time, he approached you with reverence and care, handled you like the divine creation he saw in you. 

At the beginning of his reign, Taehyung still asked and valued your opinion on matters of high importance and demanded your presence at all his meetings. He never wanted you to leave his side, and his underlings learned to respect you. Nobody dared to question your dignity or position, and whoever did have the audacity to disparage you in any way possible had to pay with their life. Taehyung usually saw to it that he made short work of them in a quite public manner, setting a warning example for future offenders as he did with everyone who thought it to be a good idea to bend or even go so far as to break his meticulously implemented set of rules. 

For the first time after seemingly endless years of solitude, spent on the run, in fear and isolation, you felt safe, valued, appreciated, and cared for. 

Quickly, though, after a couple of decades that was, the tide started turning. It was little things at first. Sudden shifts in Taehyung's mood. Displays of unnecessarily violent behavior, not only towards his subordinates but directed against you, as well. He became greedy, driven by lust and rage, impatient, voracious, jealous for no reason. 

At some point, you were forced to admit to yourself that it was time for you to go, to leave Taehyung behind and get as far away from him as possible. Before it was too late. Because the power – and his unappeasable thirst for more of the same –, as well as the need to adopt a certain coldness in order to sustain it,  were beginning to consume him. 

What had started out as the noble endeavor to turn the vampire race into one that was respectable and could be part of the world it inhabited without disrupting it quickly turned into a dark, all-consuming vortex of corruption and intrigue. With each day passing, Taehyung diverged further and further from the man he had once been, the man you had hopelessly fallen for, and instead became the very monster people had always feared your kind to be. 

He became unfaithful to you, had affairs, held orgies. Started to treat you more and more roughly, both in bed and in life. To consciously and continuously degrade you, making you feel worthless and inferior and punishing you for his mistakes, abusing you both mentally and physically – a pattern that only led him to despise himself even more, plunging him deeper and deeper into a vicious, unending cycle of self-hatred and violence. 

When Taehyung had formerly preached the value and appreciation of both human and vampire life, he now murdered dozens of innocent souls of either kind in cold blood, just for the thrill of it and to act out the anger that would otherwise have been directed at himself or, even worse, you. Because, back then, there was still some part left in Taehyung that wanted to protect you. Shortly after, though, that last, compassionate fragment of him, too, ceased to exist, going out like a fickle flame once he stopped fighting the process and succumbed to the darkness that was slowly but surely making itself at home in his very core, spreading like a tumor. 

When there was finally no more warmth left in his gaze as it fell upon you, you knew you had to move on, however much it pained your heart to abandon Taehyung in such a state. Entirely consumed by evil. Because you had allowed him to be corrupted, lacking the strength to fight it for the both of you. 

You could tell by the way he sometimes still looked at you, quietly longing for the comfort you had once provided, that he was crying out for help. That he wanted to be saved. That he needed you to chase away the darkness in his stead and help him reemerge as the beacon of light he used to be. But you were too scared. Afraid that he would drag you down with him. And that there would be no going back. 

So you ran. Literally ran for your life. As far and as quickly as your legs could carry you. In the dead of night, while Taehyung was once more being pleasured by half a dozen recently turned female vampires, you packed up your things and fled Paris with the help and in the company of your and Taehyung's dearest confidant, Jimin, vowing to yourself to never look back. 

And you never did. 

As a matter of fact, Taehyung barely ever crosses your mind these days. 

But you have a feeling that is about to change when you turn around behind the counter of the bar you currently work at to pour another stranger yet another drink. Only to stop and stare when your unsuspecting eyes meet a set of onyx orbs you thought you would never get lost in again. 

“I was looking for you, angel.” 

To be continued ... 

← Previous Part | Next Part → Coming soon! 

Hope you liked it so far. 🙃 I’ll try to update as soon and as often as possible. But there are a few changes taking place in my life right now, so I can’t make any promises. 

Here you can find my full Masterlist in case you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction.

NONE of the GIFs used are mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication. 

#bts #bts vampire au #bts mafia au #kpopwonderlandtag #btsatdah #taehyung #taehyung au #taehyung series #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #vampire taehyung #bts au #bts series #bts au series #bts x reader #bangtan au #bts fantasy au #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts gang au #jimin #jimin x you #jimin fantasy #taehyung fantasy #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic

[iconiceyesedinburgh-blog]

What Skills Do You Need To Work For Blizzard Entertainment As A Graphic Designer?

Though going to university can help you pursue the artistic profession of your desires, setting you up with the correct set of skills and skills, it isn't for everybody. Graphic design is great coaching for design work in lots of fields, which is why you will find graphic designers working in areas of specialization ranging from print design (books and magazines), to identity design (logos and branding), to product design, packaging design, Web design, and more. For while many people have been right about the best way all this pres- entism would have an effect on investments and finance, even expertise and media, we had been completely fallacious about how living within the now” would find yourself impacting us as folks. There was additionally a dialogue as to when the patroller may start doing their job-it was agreed upon, based mostly on the advice by Mr. Maduna that they should start immediately(although few days left that they need to receives a commission- and amongst the residents. Beneath particular questioning, he replied that the Colored Proteas could play towards the Rugby Springboks any time.6 November, The executive committee of the Worldwide Soccer Federation (FIFA) rejects an Ethiopian proposal to expel South Africa. With the coming of "Nyaope", which is decimating and wiping many generations of the African People, as has been witnessed first-hand here in Orlando East, and have posted articles written about it by the locals and some already banned FB'ers, that, the folks have now begun to work and build up on the street committees, and they're taking shapes from a pair or single household giving their sons and associates an obligation to patrol the streets and certain space-boundaries(small areas but strategic. This point can be dealt with a lot in-depth to debate the unknown civilization of Mzantsi that can be dated way back to 200,000 years ago(with pictures to present it a much more significant South African African historical structure and reality. Aimed at the impartial-minded, Find out how to be a Graphic Designer, Without Dropping Your Soul addresses the issues of young designers who wish to earn a dwelling by doing expressive and significant work and avoid changing into a hired drone engaged on soulless initiatives. Listening carefully and totally to the video, it does shed some gentle concerning the ancient ruins, but it lacks the historical, oral and customary views of the Africans, and these might be found amongst the folks themselves. Till the day we Africans of Mzantsi stop thinking of and for our particular person selves only, till they day we Africans of Mzantsi say sufficient is enough; and, until we come to our senses and go and see for ourselves what I'm speaking about or everyone seems to be writing about what these medicine are doing to us, our individuals, relatives and communitiesNation, we are going to forever be in our cocoons and do nothing, and we are clearly dealing with something extra harmful than HIV AIDs(Which is still battering and wiping the core of our communities), we'll ultimately taken-snuffed by the genocide we at the moment are facing. Graphic Designers design (or create) graphics to fulfill particular industrial or promotional needs, such as packaging, displays, logos, or imagery for print and digital uses including banner adverts, social media posts, web site graphics, journal advertorials, and many others. It's about time we stopped aping and emulating ineffective and different cultures foreign to us(though we must always understand international cultures) however we can't be the folks of international cultures as a result of they don't seem to be ours and they are not us. Most researchers, writers and authors agree that they got here seeking gold to restore the environment across the synthetic planet they called Nibiru, what some call Planet X. Our Galactic historical past, that many on our world are only now accepting as legitimate, was influenced to a terrific diploma by many off world Alien races and this has contributed a terrific deal to all kinds of social, religious and even physical, issues our current civilization endures, to at the present time. What's hanging about his cloning of humans in the purported lost civilization are improbable machination and creativeness on steroids as a result of this lis clear in that, throughout the talk, the Africans of South Africa are not even talked about, considered, nor their culture not attached or used so as to perceive the traditional ruins and so forth. A convergence of historical circumstance and a rise in innovative cellular applications may make Africa the first publish-PC continent, as a result of the vast majority of Africans would not have the posh of laptops, iPads, Kindles and the like (Wanjiku, 2011). Above I have been attempting to establish the human origins of mumanity from the nation of Mzantsi (South Africa), and have but to talk about about the acutal History, Culture, Customs, Traditions, Oral Traditions and history, Scared Rites Practices, languages, music, dance an traditional garb. Blue IQ had identified tourism as a serious progress space for funding, and its market research confirmed that for tourists visiting South Africa, a big part of the attraction is the ANC's world fame for having triumphed over oppression. No matter our understanding of the varied ways through which European methods of education sometimes failed African individuals, Africans proceed to be depending on the European method; an method that carries no high expectations of us. In local web designers iconiceyes.co.uk edinburgh , the European system relies largely on assumptions that we lack the intellectual and cultural capacity for thigh ranges of feat. I then worked as a pc-know-how journalist and PR author for about 15 years… writing for (and generally enhancing or managing) magazines like Well-liked Computing, Networking Management, Infosecurity News, Lightwave, Leaders, and the Harvard Business Review. Graphic designer employment is anticipated to grow by 4% (or eleven,000+ new jobs) from 2016 via 2026, slower than the 7% common progress price for all occupations, however this statistic could be very business dependent; for instance, graphic designers in print media (newspapers, magazines, catalogs, and so forth.) is predicted to shrink by 22%, while the job market for digital designers (web sites, computer systems and functions, and many others.) will develop by 20% over the same decade. On this explicit case in his travels in Botswana and Zimbabwe, we look specifically at his sojourn in Mzantsi."The word Boer merely means "farmer"and in the minds of the Africans it means a foreign "trekker', and is not synonymous with our word 'boor'. There are someplace round 300 totally different universities, postsecondary colleges, and unbiased establishments which can be accredited by the ​ Nationwide Association of Schools of Artwork and Design Any of these can provide you with the necessary qualifications to get a job ready with the graphic designer job description. The image we get at the moment of Africa in past ages from the historical past taught in our schools is that Africans were savages and that, though Europeans invaded their lands and made slaves of them, they assert that they were in a method conferring an important an excellent favor on them; since they dropped at them the blessings of Christian civilization. If a graphic designer is part of a advertising or growth team, they often work inside a studio with other creative talent Some firms have a number of graphic artists resulting from their specialties in areas like video animation, images, or illustration. Understanding how to hire a graphic designer and ourselves prior to now and in actual time is of prime importance right here: the Present future, would require us to pay attention to ourselves and the way we conduct or live our ways of life: Tradition, and so forth. Just like with planning a business, it's essential to perceive who your online buyer is. There are lots of factors that will play into the way you design your website based on who you create it for. James Sofasonke” Sofasonke Mpanza, a neighborhood chief and advocate for higher housing for African folks residing in Johannesburg'. It was a really enjoyable expertise which explains why I decided to change my main from Information Technology to Graphic Design. By the point you might be completed with studying this information it is possible for you to to talk in regards to the internet development course of competently and never get taken advantage of by among the less than principled web designers out there. When you've got the flexibility to take easy product packaging and elevate it to the level of artwork, you might be a graphic designer in the making. The graphic designer's job is to successfully talk the meant message of the undertaking at hand visually to a specified audience. Graphic designers create and affect branding, which can help to promote services to 1000's - sometimes millions - of shoppers from all all over the world. The only recommended training to be able to full the duties within the web designer job description consists of a bachelor's diploma in net design. In-home graphic designers work in an organization's advertising and marketing or creative division. For example, some create the graphics used on retail merchandise packaging, and others may go on the visible designs used on ebook jackets. As a contract graphic designer, you might be your individual boss, set your individual schedule and pursue your individual initiatives. Many professional graphic designs speak of the satisfaction of making one thing visible or constructing a brand identity that can be seen by 1000's, if not hundreds of thousands of people. Photographs of designers reflect this and have a tendency to contain them looking at designs or their pc screens.

[toasttz]

How to make games: MMORPGs

Hey, you! Does your current job not fill enough of your life with soul-crushing misery? Have you ever stopped to consider 'man, I wish I could get into a line of work that involved me wasting more time away from home and friends but I would have to pay infinity dollars for the experience'? I have to say that's a very particular set of tastes, but I play Mei in Overwatch too, so I understand having a weird sadist/masochist relationship with our gaming experiences. I'd also say that it sounds like you're in the market for an MMORPG, which is good because that's what we'll be talking about today! Making an MMORPG is easy, since it requires literally less effort than the last two genres we've covered: no one actually expects you to innovate past the good-old WoW standard of gameplay. So steal the most generic Tolkien stereotypes you can bring together, but leave out all that "Jesus" and "patriotism" stuff that accompanied Tolkien's work, because our primary market is going to be east-Asian countries and 13 year olds with money burning holes in their pockets. Making a character creator is as easy as going through the process of making one yourself, as you start with the obvious stuff like species. Species should include, but never exceed: Humans who are neither good nor bad at anything (but called some kind of stupid fantasy name), Elves for sissy magic users, Dwarves for your tanks, some kind of dragon hybrid for the fucking furry degenerates, and the obligatory Sexy Race which you'll slap all over your ads that show up on the sides and bottoms of webpages when viewed by morons who don't know what AdBlock is for. If the above doesn't address it, you should also pick a class, so just steal them from early D&D: Fighter, Mage, Cleric, Thief, etc. No more than that - gotta save room for those sweet, sweet expansion packs so you can fleece your players for "Monthly Server Maintenance Fees" in addition to the price of the game. Never mind that 'sever maintenance' is just ripping out old HDDs and putting in new ones and that HDDs are dirt-fucking cheap, you need to fleece these fuckers for gold like your name was Jason. (That's a smart joke.) Your art style should revolve around the most generic mono-themes you can steal assets for, preferably in the Unity engine since that won't make it look like unabashed shit or anything. For music, just hit royalty free music websites, because everyone's just gonna put Youtube in the background when they play anyways, so fuck it. We got money to earn and gameplay to digest, so let's get what your players can expect. Remember, making each class distinct is important as all members of a given party operate like different members of a family unit. For instance: DPS Roles are the family dog. They get excited easily and rush into situations without regard for life or limb, usually making way more noise than they have earned any right to make. They think they're the leader of the party since they insist on being front and center of every encounter even though they are not. Tank Roles are the Asian helicopter moms. They feel the need to live vicariously through their DPS compatriots because the damage they dish out is, frankly, paltry and any time the situation isn't about them - they make it about them somehow. They believe they are the leaders of the party, though they obviously rarely have control over the most immediate threats, let alone the entire party of sociopaths. Support Roles are the stern fathers. They can't immediately intervene on the behalves of the above roles no matter how much they want to, so they stand back and grant all the help they can muster and, at best, will be largely ignored despite the fact that their movements will dictate the pace, flow, and results of combat above all others. They will only be recognized for what they do when they fail in their tasks, which makes this metaphor hit a bit too close to home for most. Just remember: Supports who aren't active in their party are every Raid Boss's future wingman. Don't come crying to me when your DPS Daughteru comes home dating one of those degenerate dragon-people! Anyways, the pacing of the game is paramount, since making an "end" of an MMORPG is essentially illegal, so you need to make it so it's easy to get to somewhere between levels 30-50 before you just start scaling things on a logarithmic basis. For those who don't math good like what I do: your first three level ups should happen more or less instantly upon completion of the tutorial and the players should be able to make good progress over the next few dozen levels as they play with their friends and make larger parties for stronger instances. However, you're not gonna be wringing any monthly server fees out of these plebs if you make it that easy on them, so around level 40-ish or so, just start slapping higher multiplier values on the Exp. required to level up to the point where solar eclipses happen with greater regularity than the "LEVEL UP" chime. By the time players hit this wall, they'll make one of three choices: that they will persist through the grind because the game is literally all they do outside of work now, they will ragequit (and hopefully forget to cancel their credit card subscription to the game with some luck!), or they'll resort to the premium cash shop. What, you didn't know your MMO needed a premium cash shop? Well it does, wake up and smell the lack of ethics, game dev! For some paltry sum between 1 and infinity bucks, your players can buy some kind of in-game premium currency, as mentioned in my gacha explanation. In fact the comparisons here are apt as this, too, is morally dubious and really is for trying to wrench even more money out of your players for something that they can rest more or less assured that you aren't gonna update meaningfully until Halley's Comet passes through the solar system again. However, for some amount of this premium currency, they should be allowed super powerful weapons and armors that completely invalidate any sense of pacing up until the low 70s level range. This will help them play further into the mindless grind until they are playing at least for a few months (worth of fees) time. Once hopelessly addicted, they'll slog through the remaining 30 levels or so of grind, ideally. All other premium currency items should be cosmetics - preferably cosmetics with expiration dates so you can fleece them for their fashionista tendencies repeatedly. If you have any pangs that make you think this might be "not exactly on-the-level", hey, you're right! You're really getting the hang of modern game design! After that, it's time make expansion packs! The beauty of this is that not only have they paid for the base game and monthly fees, but now they get to buy the game ALL OVER AGAIN! Slap on a few extra islands and some quests to populate them and sometimes raise the level cap. The design is the easy part. The name is where you will likely struggle. However, using our advanced scientific algorithms, we have deduced that the ideal title should follow the template: "Adjective Noun Adjective" plus or minus a definitive article and a couple of "Of"s. Do you not know what those are? That probably means you're at the right IQ level to actively make MMOs! Or to play them! Oh yeah, every second expansion pack you should add an additional class - preferably one that invalidates the classes of an earlier build, so as to subtly 'encourage' making a new character. But the prereqs for getting these should be difficult to the point of patent absurdity. After all, you can't class change to a "Bumtickler" until you get that level 85 Pirate! Congrats! You're a soulless monster who cares naught for their fellow man. You are now a living example of gaining the world and losing your soul. I hope the Faustian bargain was worth it. You're welcome.

#satire #video games #games #MMORPG

[pontiobangor]

Five minutes with ... Seiriol Davies

Which production that had the biggest impact on you?

I’m useless at having to choose one, so I’m not going to try! The musicals that my parents (Eleri Cwyfan and Gareth Glyn) wrote for children when I was really young, like Seren Newydd, were a huge influence, the Magdalen that Dad did with Glanaethwy. I have a lot of memories of musicals from Theatr Fach and Theatr Gwynedd and the Eisteddfod when I was younger – I remember something with Cefin Roberts in drag, with a wall being built across the middle of the stage, and the audience split in two, with each half watching the other half disappear – it all made me think what is ‘allowed’ to be done on stage.

That’s the theme that has the biggest impression: the things that project / extend / lengthen. Off the top of my head; Mr Burns by Anne Washburn in the Almeida had an amazingly cool structure, Eraritjaritjaka by Heiner Goebbels in the EIF (it started with a dollhouse on stage, and slowly, amongst other things a man, robots, camera crew, more robots, an orchestra, and a full-sized house emerged); Sam Mendes’ Cabaret in New York (the back of the stage demolishes at the end of the show and it breaks your heart!) and so on. Recently, I saw 24-Decade History of Popular Music by Taylor Mac in the Barbican, if you get a chance to see this, blimey, it’s brilliant: passionate, funny, crazy drag; that re-tells American history from the perspective of sub-cultures and rebels, using a mixture of lectures, drag, a noson lawen type evening and a game show. Flipping brilliant.

Anyway, one of those I suppose.

When creating / writing new content or a new production, what inspires you?

Anything can. Shows like I’ve mentioned. A good story. I really enjoy dealing with irony and the absurd, and the times when what we say is the total opposite of what we really think. So any news or story that brings out that narrative works for me.

I like to couple up the regular world with the highest levels of fantasy as well, so I love playing video games. Myths is something we created to make sense of the mundane, so why not bring both of them together again.

Also, you get the best costumes when you do that.

When I write I have to find something at its core that makes me uncomfortable: so I fight it alongside the characters. If I don’t do that, I find it hard to connect with the characters and the theme; I don’t think it’s possible; it all stay in the abstract and is soulless.

Like my next show, Milky Peaks, that will open after Covid-19, i started with the question of Welushness. I was raised as a Welsh Nationalist and Eisteddfotwr, to protect our ways no matter what, in a totally uncomplicated way. But then, I found out that Nick Griffin, the Holocoust denier and leader of the BNP at the time had moved to Wales and brought his children up speaking Welsh to avoid ‘Multi-cultural Britain’, because he identified with our fight of ‘us against the outsiders’. That hurt. So writing Milky Peaks was a process to try and work out the poison in the system out, by dealing with it.

I should also mention that this show is a load of fun! All singing-all-dancing, glitter-coming-out-of-the-toilet, a fun night out. Working the poison out can be a riot!

Do you have anything exciting coming up? Be in the near future or when our theatres re-open?

So, as mentioned Milky Peaks will open in Theatr Clwyd and will tour Wales as soon as we can which is brilliant (we were about to open when the lockdown came!)

I have a few exciting things coming up as well, to me at least!

I’ve just finished writing a short show that is completely bonkers during lockdown, to be released online by HOME in Manchester and Lime Pictures called ActualQuest, which is a fantasy game that you play on your phone, inspired by fantasy games like Knightmare by ITV in the 90s, and brilliantly naff VHS board games like Atmosfear.

I’m working on a sexy, fierce and passionate version of Branwen as a musical with Cwmni’r Frân Wen, Hanna Jarman and Elgan Rhys that’s going to be ace, and still developing a drag show about the Orsedd, the Eisteddfod and Iolo Morgannwg, Corn Gwlad, with Elgan and Gethin Evans and the National Eisteddfod. We performed a version with a stunningcast in the Llanrwst Eisteddfod last year.

I’m also writing a musical with the actor and playwright Maxine Peake for the Royal Exchange in Manchester, which is a load of fun.

What would your advice be for young people who wish to work in the industry?

Try and be flexible, and try things. Even if it’s just to find that it’s not for you, you know through experience. Create, even if you think it’s crap, and share: you’ll learn something about yourself. There are more opportunities in the world if you can create your own opportunities, and the less you sit by the phone (or the modern equivalent ... sit by the internet?) waiting for someone to choose you, the better.

It’s bloody frustrating advice, I know, but don’t wait for permission – it’ll come late if it ever does come – find out what you want to do and how to get it accross. Learn from every experience. I did loads of cabaret before making my first show: you had to survive on stage for a night when you hadn’t prepared enough, and the audience is pissed and wants to be entertained, so you have to pull something out of the bag; it teaches you – you either succeed or don’t!

In the same way, filling grant forms or writing a marketing copy for your show, teaches you how to difine yourself and your voice. They’re never fun, but they’re worthwhile. And having a pint with someone who has an expertise in the industry that you don’t is always beneficial; playwright, musican, artist, marketeer... you’ll see things from a different perspective.

Keep open-minded; an honest, bright reaction to the world is a lot more interesting than an inward thinking opinion.

Help eachother; there are forces in society that have a way of making life harder for some than for others, it’s important that we do everything to undo those forces.

Oh, and where possible, don’t agree to work for somebody for free when they have the money. They shouldn’t get away with it.

[the-honey-bear]

fit for purpose

Title: fit for purpose

Pairings: gen

Words: 1,638

Summary: "Don't give them names. When you give something a name, you make it more human. And malakhim are not human. They're tools," Lord Artorius had told Teresa.

---> read on ao3

Hellawes suits you.

The fish markets smell of the the little apartment above the fishmonger in Loegres, where you'd spent the first six uncomplicated years of your life. The tangled family politics of the Dragonia family, who'd taken you in after mother's death, had yet to dig their claws into you. Life had been simple in that small one-room flat. You'd been happy, you think.

The other consuls had turned their nose up at the Hellawes job. It was too cold, too remote, and the whole place stunk of fish. You'd initially taken the position on the understanding with Lord Artorius that your baby brother, Oscar, would be kept away from the more dangerous assignments he liked to stick his nose into. But the more time you spend in Hellawes, the more you like it. Not just the fish markets, but the crisp chill of the air, the untrodden endless snow fields past the city gates.

“Teresa would be the only one mad enough to go up there,” your fellow exorcists had muttered. “Cold-hearted bitch.”

*

“Number Two, come now. You'll be left behind.”

Initially obedient, Number Two had picked up a bad trait of wandering. Your tolerated his little trips to the library, even if you were baffled what a printed page would mean to a malak of all creatures.

The city, however, was another matter.

Number One sticks obediently by your side. The other malak, however, lingers in the market by a stall full of curios, eyes fixed on ship in a bottle.

You heave a sigh. “Number Two--” you say. You advance towards him, heels crushing compressed snow, ready to take him by the arm if needs be. Just as you reach out, his eyes snap away.

A warm, throaty chuckle.

“Is the young man your brother? Reminds me of my grandson-- left to his own devices, he ends up in a world of his own.”

The old woman tending the stall has a broad, kind face. “If you like the ship so much, child, you can take it. One of the masts broke when my grandson carried it over. It won't sell for anything now.”

Number Two stares at his shoes, unable to meet the old woman's eye. “Um.”

“A shy one, isn't he?”

You smile, as patiently as you can. “He's a malak, ma'am. And I'm afraid your gift would be wasted on him.”

But if anything, the woman admires Number Two even more curiously. “A malak, are you? I've never spoken to a malak. Do you have a name?”

The malak stares harder at his shoes.

“We call him Number Two,” you tell the woman, shortly. “And this here is Number One.”

Number One stares onwards, without blinking.

The woman's smile fades. “Seems kind of a shame.”

Lord Artorius had told you: Don't give them names. When you give something a name, you make it more human. And malakhim are not human. They're tools.

And honestly, what does the woman want you to do? Treat the creature as some do, as a pet? Call him Goldie, or some such nonsense? Malakhim are the swords exorcists wield; you would not wield a pet.

“We should be off,” you say. “Come now, Number Two. Enough dawdling.”

The malak still hovers, distracted by the stupid trinket.

“Now,” you say.

“He can still have it, if he'd like,” the old woman offers. She's no longer smiling.

“He doesn’t need it,” you snap, grabbing Number Two by the wrist. His gaze snaps away from the bottle. For a second, as though a mirage, you think you can see a flash of some emotion pass through his eyes. Your heart drops to your stomach as his mouth twists; for a brief moment, you think he might wrench his arm away from you. But then the mirage fades: Number Two's eyes are as glassy and lifeless as ever.

“Yes Ma'am,” the malak says, as he falls into step behind you.

*

In your years in Loegres as a junior praetor, the rallies had been a small but persistently annoying problem. What had started with a dozen people had grown to an entire contingency. On market days, they came out in full force, collared with signs strung around their necks:

MALAKHIM ARE NOT SLAVES

The worst part was that they couldn't be dispersed from the market for disruptive behaviour. Instead, they arranged themselves in a circle by the fountain, linked by chains, unspeaking, as silently and still as the malakhim whose liberation they demanded.

“Ignore them,” Loegres' consul, Victarion, had said, when you're brought the issue to his desk. He'd flipped aimlessly through his paperwork. “They're no more than a curiosity. Give it another season for people to get bored, and no-one will even notice them anymore. And attention-seekers get bored without any attention.”

True to Victarion's word, by the time summer had come and gone, no one paid the protesters any notice. No longer stopping to stare, people went about their business. The protesters might as well have been part of the fountain itself; invisible as the malakhim had been before the Scarlet Night. Still, it made something tighten in your throat to see them; baking themselves day after day in the midday sun, their steely, condemning eyes.

Two seasons after that, they vanished. One day, on market day, they simply weren't there. But all the same, the market folk and shoppers gave the fountain a wide bearth. Children didn't play on the steps and couples didn't loiter. The fountain stayed empty, as though although the protesters had departed, the chains were still there.

*

“Oscar, you idiot!”

 You crumple your brother's letter to a ball in your fist. All you'd done to get Oscar a safe, comfortable position, and he gives the job away?  Sister, I'll be stationed for the next three seasons at Titania,  Oscar had written. You'd taken crap jobs for months, and  still  , Oscar managed to wind up at the most dangerous place on the continent? The chivalrous, heroic  fool  --

“Madam Teresa?”

 You whirl about to find Number Two stood cautiously in the doorway to the sitting room. Your heart is in your throat. “You--”  you scared me  . You swallow the unspoken words down, taking a breath to steady yourself. Still, there's a tremor in your chilly voice as you ask, “Number Two, is there something you need?”

 He shakes his head. “You sounded upset.”

 Your eyebrows pinch together. “I'm fine.” How strange, to have to reassure a malak. It makes you smile. “You were worried?”

 Number Two struggles with this concept, his mouth contorting as he tastes it in his mouth: “Worried... I...”

 There had been a moment. On the day when Artorius had presented you with your two malakhim. Your first assignment, and not one malakhim, but   two  . Your heart had been bursting to the seams with pride, and if only the the Master and Mistress of the house could see you  now,   the unwanted bastard-maid, ordained as praetor consulate.

 Artorius had brought the two malakhim out, and your eye had immediately gone to the malak you'd later name Number Two. Something about the hair, and the colour of his eyes, the shape of his face---

 The Master had, grudgingly, introduced you to your half-sibling. Standing straight in your uncomfortably starched new linen, you fought the impulse not to scratch the spot behind your knee. “Oscar, this is the new member of our household, Teresa. She's just lost her mother, so please be kind to her.”

 Perhaps Artorius had seen something on your face.  They are tools  , he'd reminded you. They only wore the semblance of human flesh.

 And yet...

“You're sweet to be concerned for me,” you say. You put a hand on the malak's head, and find the hair so soft you tangle your fingers in it.

 Number Two gazes up at you. “Sweet?”

 You hum in response. “You know, Oscar had hair just like you as a boy. There was always this  one   piece-- no matter what I did, I could never get it to lay flat.”

 You lead the boy over to the chaise lounge and bid him to sit. “Wait here a moment,” you tell him, a smile in your voice as you find out the hairbrush you keep in your drawer.

 You squeeze in behind him, and from behind he could  be   Oscar, all the way down to the promise of ringlets in his hair. Laying firm even strokes, you tell him, “Oscar loved it when I brushed his hair. He'd never want me to stop. Sometimes, he'd try to do mine, except he was so impulsive, he'd end up pulling.” You smile against the memory. Even then, you couldn't be mad. You'd forgive your baby brother anything.

 You hum as you tease out the knots in the boy's hair. He stays as still as Oscar would. Always moving, always restless, he wouldn't move a muscle under your touch.

 Indulgently, you press your face forward to the crown of the boy's hair to breathe in the smell of him. “Does it feel nice, Oscar?”

“Who's Oscar?” the malak says. Number Two turns to look at you, and the eyes that gaze, unblinking, are so soulless that you flinch back.

 Colour rises high on your cheekbones: you feel terribly exposed. “T-That's none of your business, Number Two,” you stumble. Saying the malak's name steadies you. He's not a human.  It's  not a human. Malakhim are tools.

“Get out of here! I can't stand to look at you. And from now on, don't come in unless I call for you.”

 Number Two runs from the room. You sink back down on the chaise lounge, feeling suddenly exhausted.

 You think of invisible chains, on the fountain in Loegres.

 The malak made a poor replacement for your brother, anyway. He hadn't even smelled right.

#tales of berseria #tob #teresa linares #my fanfiction #i kind of creeped myself out writing this ngl

[tastywordgasms]

 Who’s afraid of Virginia Lee Johnson?

Virginia is a mom to two beautiful children and resides in Minnesota. Any spare time is spent watching TV, reading, facebooking and spending time with friends. She’s married to Thai Preyer PA 😉, yet owned by Kyle Perkins as his PA. *these two run my life* A love for reading and writing is a new concept for Virginia. Before the Twilight rave and a need to know the ending after Eclipse was released in theaters, Virginia preferred to watch the movie or convince a friend to read the book for her. Needing to know the story of a random homeless man that she encountered on a freeway exit ramp, was the only reason she began writing in the first place. Soulless Nights spawned from the unknown story and a dare from her friends.

Virginia has expanded her love for books by planning and hosting The Tampa Indie Author Book Convention. As a co-owner of The Indie Book Channel on YouTube, the opportunity to help others experience books and events that they otherwise couldn’t has helped her to share her passion for the Indie Community.

She has had the pleasure of working with some of her favorite authors. Street teams, beta reading and cover modeling were what led her to the world of writing. She currently PA’s for Kyle Perkins

Currently she has released Soulless Nights, Revenge; a short story within the anthology Doctrine of Indecency: 18 Coveted Tales of Lust, Vindicate, Seraphine’s ( With Julia Clare ) and Bound by an Echo ( With Julia Clare ), Expiate, Humanity’s Ark: Kepler (Kyle Perkins), Always; Never and a few funny books. Secondary Silence, Freeing Olivia (Ellen Wilder), and Soulless Days are current WIP’s, soon to be released.

=Nikki K get’s the skinny on Ginni=

I met Virginia, or Ginni as she is called, a few months back through some author friends. I didn’t know anything about her or her books but I was joining a group she was a part of and decided I needed to read one of her books. I picked Soulless Nights and was totally blown away. First it was a tad bit darker than I am used to but the storyline was something I had not read before and the twists were like, WOW! Any who, we began talking and I quickly decided that this chick was one of the funniest most irreverent people I’d met in a long time. She may also sleep less than me and be one of the hardest working people in the book world. Not only does she PA, Write, work a day job and she’s a mom, but she is also one of the first people to lend a hand to support others. The long and short of it, I became a fan of not only her writing but of the person behind the pen as well.

Q. First things first, if we’re meeting somewhere to conduct this interview, where would it be? (A park, bar, restaurant, your home, my home) A. Your hot tub, filled with ice… cause it’s hot as fuck where you live.

Q. What would be your drink of choice? I’m a vodka or Jameson gal myself. A. Mike’s Black Cherry Lemonade. I don’t drink often so buying a bottle would age. Not just age, my great grand kids would ask to use it for a history class artifact. (But when she does drink, bahaha. Let’s just say I have seen video!)

Q. If there’s food involved, what type would it be? A. Steak. No, boiled peanuts. And chocolate, not dark. The aftertaste is awful.

Q. Why do you write? What inspired you? A. Honestly, I wrote my first book because I spent an hour of time, that I’ll never get back, reading a book. I thought the plot was good, characters had potential but the execution was piss-poor to say it nicely. My inspiration was friends that were indie authors.

Q. Why did you start writing in the genre you chose? A. I love me a dark read. There is nothing like diving head first into a world that you want to believe doesn’t exist, with characters that couldn’t get away with their actions and twists that make you second guess humanity. I knew I belonged there – dark anything.

Q. How did becoming a published author change you or your life? A. I’ve made the best friends, traveled and have been able to share my imagination with the world. I mean, that’s kinda cool.

Q. Your books tend to lean towards the dark side (yes I’m being polite). What inspires you to write about the topics you do? A. Reality and reflection. The reality is that the world is dark. Bad things happen all of the time. Reflection on what would you do about it, if given the chance? I wrote that story.

Q. In Souless Nights you deal with the topic of Sex trafficking/slavery. Where did that idea come from? A. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why he was homeless. Cardboard sign and all, begging for money, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. In short, I decided that he was a detective, searching for the love of his life that he had met 5 years earlier, while homeless. This inadvertently brought me to sex trafficking and the real existence of it. Save the girl or lose everything.

Q. What are you working on now? A. My priority is Secondary Silence, a paranormal romance. I really wanted to avoid the stigma of paranormal but a vampire was necessary. Don’t worry, no glittery facade or super speed. Lol. Like, really? Anyways… Ashley is a ghost, assigned to assist Thad (the vamp). I know it’s pnr, but I’ve graphically killed soooooo many people already, it may need to find itself in a horror genre. We shall see😉

Q. Which of your books/series was your most fun to write? A. F*CK, SH*T and M**ST Is this even a for real question? Maybe this isn’t a for real answer. Lol. They were fun to write tho. Kepler: Humanity’s Arc was another fun one. My co author kept me on my toes and the edge of my seat with every chapter. Twas fun!

Q. Is there a recurring theme that runs through your books? Why is this important to your writing? A. My female characters grow into their strengths through the story. Aspen is my only character that was a badass to begin with, a force to be reckoned with. Vindicate showcased the inner beauty of a strong woman that knew what she wanted. Vindicate was a very easy book to write.

Q. If you were interviewing your favorite character from your book what’s the one question you would like to ask them? What would the answer be? A. To Ethan from Vindicate and Expiate – Me : “Will you die already?” Him : “No.”

Q. What genre would you love to write but don’t think that you would do it justice? A. Contemporary Romance. Lol. I tried. It was painful to bang out Bound by an Echo.i love the book, readers LOVE the book. Writing a romance was exhausting. I can’t do it.

Q. What is the one thing you would like readers to know about you? A. All of my characters are a piece of myself, my friends and my fans. No character is an unknown entity, developed from pixie dust and suddenly appears. Someone in my life created a character, without knowing it.

Q. What is your writing process? Do you have scheduled times you sit down and just start writing? Or is it more like when inspiration strikes you pick up a pen or keyboard? A. Inspiration strikes. 9/10 I stare at the screen until I realize I’ve typed enough random words to make a sentence. It’s bad.

Q. Do you write longhand or do you prefer a computer? A. Always my computer. I’m lazy AF. Doing the same job twice would be the death of me.

Q. If you could only read one book for the rest of your life, what book would you pick. A. Thoughtless by SC Stephens.

Q. Can you share a fun/funny story about being a writer? Maybe an interaction with a fan or a mishap while writing? A. Eh… I fell asleep on my keyboard once. Had 48 pages of k’s. I wrote a book with Kyle Perkins. It’s about the planet, Kepler. Mind you, we have been talking about this book for a year when we started writing it in full force. Finally, one day near chapter 7 or so, he tells me, “You know the sky would be more red than blue, right?” I reply with, “Does it matter? We’re writing a book.” I was so pissed when I found out KEPLER IS A REAL PLANET! I had rules to follow. He thought it was hilarious and that I was an idiot, but still. It was pretty funny.

Q. Why did you decide to self published, instead of reaching out to traditional publishers? A. I don’t follow rules well. I kill to many people, thrust into someone too many times, blood splatter was too wide… yeah, I had a character use a (removed) cock as a paintbrush. I am not the publishers dream candidate. Maybe someday.

Q. What is the hardest part about being an author? A. Conformity. I’ll never be like everyone else. I’ve tried the things that work for others and they don’t work for me. It’s hard to be yourself in this world.

Q. Have you ever thought about giving up writing? If so why? A. Yes. Why? Sometimes you want to disappear as if your story has been told. Then, as if they were stalking you, a fan or fellow author sends that much needed message, asking for the rest of a story. That’s when I know my story is just beginning.

Q. We often hear the writers barely break even on their books. If this is true, why do it? A. It’s absolutely true. No question. Being an indie author isn’t a money making gig. It’s not a get rich fast technique and the fact that people think we have spending money from this, blows my mind. This is why indie authors are disappointed in those that don’t take the art seriously. Few of us are lucky enough to have a cover designer, editor, graphic designer, formatter and marketing on call. All of that costs a fortune. No joke. Hundreds of dollars before you buy it for $0.99. In short, we need you sell 1500 copies at $0.99 to break even at a $500 cost. Unfortunately, most indie authors sell 5-10 books in a good week. Why do I do it? I do it for me. I’m proud of accomplishing something that I had never dreamed of. I look at a finished book and think, I did this. Just as quickly I think, What’s next? It’s a vicious circle that has little monetary gain.

For shits and giggles. Q. What is your favorite word? A. Fuck

Q. What is your favorite dirty word. A. Fuck

Q. What is your least favorite word? A. M**st…. Not even spelling it. Lolol

Q. Is there a world we will NEVER find in your writing? A. Historical. Not happening.

Q. What is your favorite naughty toy? A. Time. Lol

Q. Which of your books would you like to be real so you could live in it? And why? A. Kepler: Humanity’s Ark – wouldn’t it be cool as fuck to live on another planet that is capable of sustaining human life? I wanna see that. The world Kyle developed and created in the book sounds beautiful.

Q. I know you have a male writing partner, would you ever consider writing a M/F HEA with him? A. Kepler was written M/F. We had discussed, soon after Kepler released, possibly doing an Urban Fantasy. That might be capable of a HEA. Who knows. He’s more capable of writing it than I am. Although, he doesn’t have many HEA’s either.

=Links=

Facebook: https://facebook.com/AuthorVirginiaJohnson/

Website: https://authorvirginiajohnson.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorVJohnson

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/charmedchic24/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Virginia-L-Johnson/e/B01E88KI5Q/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Newsletter: http://tinyletter.com/VirginiaLeeJohnson

=Solo Books from Ginni=

Soulless Night

Soulless Nights on Amazon

WARNING: This book contains sex scenes of a graphic nature. *Contains material that may be sensitive to some readers* Deep in the city, where we’ve been taught to avoid the dark corners and alleys, monsters lurk within the fragile cracks of our human emotions, waiting for the chance to break in. With the loss of his grandfather, William runs to the streets without family or the knowledge of wealth he’s left behind. Spending years begging for food and money, William has learned the secrets that the city keeps hidden, making him one of the most versatile detectives the department has ever seen. Losing the love of his life, with nothing more than a letter saying she’s sorry and spending five years tracking her, William has learned that she has entered the world where sex and money can make you very successful or may very well kill you in the process. Kathryn has spent seven years on the streets, leaving behind her addicted, abusive mother and her sexual predator boyfriends. William proves to be the light she’s been longing for but when darkness shadows the truth she’s left to return to the streets in hiding with fear of the lies she’s faced with. Kathryn must decide, work for Xander and sell her soul for sex, or face the demons of her past and hope William understands she has never forgotten him. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28943216-soulless-nights

🔪🔪Vindicate🔪🔪

Free on KU Vindicate on Amazon

Aspen Young is a girl with a past and an inner demon to feed. Ethan West has been a playboy since his first wet dream but nothing could prepare him for Aspen. In Revenge, Aspen and Ethan collide in an erotic tale of mending the weak and awakening the strength within a woman. When the weak aren’t strong enough to survive, Aspen ends the pain and suffering of lost love and a pathetic heart, the only way she knows how. In Vindicate, Aspen is tested with decisions that will help her continue to right the wrongs that have plagued women for centuries or destroy her as she falls into the same wreckage her victims are subjected to. When Ethan proves to be stronger and smarter than the hunted failures of Aspen’s past, she is forced to make a decision that will ultimately change the life she has created for herself. Take revenge on those who constantly choose to relive the horror of their decisions and take their lives, one bloody heart at a time or end the lives of the people responsible for her need to vindicate her actions.

Always Never

Always Never on Amazon

“Blinking would bring a moment of darkness that I couldn’t afford.”

Darkness shadows those that are marked, but the light of a soul may be stronger than the depths of the Never. I was sent to collect what was rightfully mine. Avery belonged to me as many of the marks before her. She fought harder than the others, stayed stronger through the fear and she made herself an easy target. Finding her was never an issue. Killing her was always the plan. Losing her was no longer an option.

❈Expiate❈

🔪 Expiate on Amazon

🔪Time is nothing more than the illusion that you have buried your skeletons deeper than the next person. The mistake that is most commonly made is forgetting one thing; Aspen doesn’t care how deep the bodies are buried – she will find you and she will kill you. The only question that they should be asking themselves is, ‘When?”

🔪Blinding emotion is the one thing that separates Aspen from her victims. She has given them a choice; a chance to make it right. She has rules, she has boundaries and now, she is running out of time.

🔪After allowing Ethan to escape with a new set of rules, Aspen finds herself caught between finishing what she started and starting what needs to be finished. ❈ Tracy created a monster. ❈ Preston follows no rules. ❈ Ethan is pissed and ready to fight. 🔪Three different men with three different reasons to die. They will pay for the mistakes that they made and Aspen will collect… when she is ready.

Bad Words Made Funny Series

From Book 1: ***TRIGGER WARNING*** STRONG LANGUAGE Not intended for underage viewers Adult supervision is advised!

***This book is a sarcastic educational and (probably) inaccurate reference guide ONLY!!*** It is not intended to provide you with any sort of value or brain power. Actually, I can almost guarantee you that it will do the exact opposite.

Have you ever sat back and thought to yourself, “Well, I wonder how to say, “F*CK” in dutch? No? Well, that’s too bad, cause I have. What I found was that there is absolutely no reason for me to ever need to know that, but I am humored to know that I have given you a book that will help you do just that! There are a total of 40 ways to read it within the pages of this disaster. Trust me when I say… ENJOY!

=Collaborations with Ginni and her friends= 

 🔑🔪Seraphine’s🔪 🔑

By Virginia Lee Johnson and Julia Clare

Seraphine’s on Amazon

Which room holds your dirty desire? ***THIS IS YOUR TRIGGER WARNING* *There are scenes that may be sensitive to some readers. Please be advised* Can Seraphine break the walls down surrounding Ivy? Will Ivy succumb to her expected fate? What neither of them anticipated was a reservation, one that could destroy them all. Are you #TeamJulian or #TeamJasper?

Bound by an Echo

By Julia Clare and Virginia Johnson

Bound by an Echo on Amazon

Laurel escaped her past and the horror that threatened to plague her future. With her dream job, fame and friends, there was always something standing in her way. She was happy but she knew a piece of her was missing; that piece came with a price and an echo. Rory never did leave; he stayed exactly where she could find him. The girl that got away would return, eventually. What he didn’t expect was for her to walk through the door of his bar days before an echo of their past was to boom through the mountains and mirror the moment that tore them apart. Twenty years ago; That was the last busy day in Crater City. It was the last time laughter was heard through the mountains. It was also the last day that The Crater City Carnival had ever opened. Now, twenty years later, the carnival will reopen for one week only, bringing two lost loves back together and a mystery they both tried to forget will be brought back to life. Will Rory and Laurel survive… again?

✨ •••• 🌓KEPLER: Humanity’s Ark  🌓 •••• ✨

Kyle Perkins and Virginia Johnson Kepler on Amazon

Orrin was born for the mission ahead of him; his team has nothing to lose and a livable planet to gain. Built for the elements and prepared for the worst, Orrin is Earth’s last chance for survival and he is determined to save humanity no matter the cost.

As the daughter of the Vaklarn Elite, Aya was adorned with every amenity available but she craved a life of freedom and independence. Betrothed to the man of her father’s choice, her chance at love was taken from her in the name of her ancestors until she comes face to face with the biggest threat her people have ever encountered; Orrin.

When two worlds collide, more than a fight for a home is on the line. Both have an objection; both have something to lose; both bend the bind that threatens to break in the name of strength, power, life and love.

=Anthology’s=

Doctrine of Indecency: 18 Coveted Tales of Lust

Doctrine of Indecency (Forever Free)

Have you gotten your copy of Doctrine of Indecency : 18 Coveted Tales of Lust? It’s packed with 18 amazing authors short stories and it’s free! Go get it if you haven’t already!

*This is an adult romance short story collection containing explicit content only suitable for adults.* Dare yourself to explore eighteen very different tales of lust by eighteen wickedly imaginative authors that love to spin a sexy story. Get lost in the pages composed by minds trained to tempt and tease the senses to satisfaction while leaving you wanting so much more…

☠ ❤ Twist Me Anthology ❤ ☠

Twist Me Anthology

Twist Me: A Dark Romance Anthology of love, lust, desires, murder, mystery and more 12 authors brings you 12 original short stories of when good boys want to meet you and bad boys want blood. Voices need to be heard and secrets stay burried for only so long. Feel the whip of a dominatrix and you might become a dark princess. Where lessons are learned the hard way of internet dating. Never fall for the enemy and till death do you really part. Take a walk in the sand and watch love burn like wildfire to create a cataclysmic effect. *All proceeds go to ASPCA* Elizabeth Cash – Taking You Home Destiny Hawkins – The Man in the Dark Reagan Hollow – Aaron’s Undoing Virgina Lee Johnson – Blind Capture Erin Lee – Acquiring August Emery LeeAnn – Cataclysmic Carissa Lynch – Loves Me Not P. Mattern – The Girl in the Sand Alana Melos – Strange Bedfellows Ellie Midwood – The Iron Cross Yolanda Olson – Wildfire Erin M. Trejo – Dark Princess

Spotlight on the Darkness of Virginia Lee Johnson  Who's afraid of Virginia Lee Johnson? Virginia is a mom to two beautiful children and resides in Minnesota.

[charleslavila-blog]

The problem with Wealthy Affiliate

Is that they don’t put their members through any sort of review process before they let them set off into the world of internet marketing. Sure, they do provide the resources and coaching needed to make it in IM, but they also do a good job of making it sound so easy. I feel like a lot of folks sign up thinking it’s going to be a convenient way to generate income once they know how to post a blog, install a few plugins in WordPress, and get their affiliate links added.

Obviously, holding people back until they’ve ‘graduated’ from the program wouldn’t work anyway, but I can tell you honestly that…

90% of the people in the WA Community will make next to no money in affiliate marketing and will likely give up.

I hate to sound like a Downer Donna, but I’m calling it like I see it. I’ve perused many of the sites linked in comments and in user profiles and most of them are pretty awful. Now I know that we’ve all got to start somewhere, but the glaring issue here is that most of these people are wondering why their sites aren’t earning them mad cheddar.

To me, it’s painfully obvious, but to them…they’re confused. WA said that they’d have their money-making site up within seconds, so what the heck..?!

Wealthy Affiliate’s candy-coated sales pitch

WA is a legitimate service. I have no doubt that some people can utilize the membership training and community resource to build profitable businesses; however…

The main sales page is a bit misleading in that I feel it grossly oversimplifies the process of establishing a profitable site, and it nowhere near emphasizes just how much work will be involved. Not to mention, the several months you will have to devote to this before you start seeing any sort of income.

Let me dissect the Wealthy Affiliate sales pitch…

If you’re not yet a Wealthy Affiliate member, you can go here to see their main sales page.

Choose an Interest

They tell you that the first step in the process is to choose a niche. In my opinion, this should be pretty easy for you determine before you even decide to get started. If not, then internet marketing may not be for you. The reason I say this is due to the amount of effort required to build a profitable business from scratch. If you can’t think of one single thing that excites or interests you, then you are going to have an uphill struggle if you plan to make a go of it in affiliate marketing.

Wealthy Affiliate will help you select a good niche, and some of that process is covered within the free membership. However . . . they also quickly position the option of you marketing Wealthy Affiliate itself …if you are at a loss, in terms of deciding upon a vertical.

This is a BAD idea.

NO ONE that is new to internet marketing should pursue a niche solely based on the prospect of money-making. To be successful, you must pursue a niche that you are passionate about.

Think about it…who in their right mind is going to be sold a service that you have yet to make a dime from yourself. Make some money as a Wealthy Affiliate member, then go the Wealthy Affiliate Bootcamp route.

You may be able to convert a few Facebook friends, or your mom, but you will not succeed as a Wealthy Affiliate ‘affiliate’ if you choose their WA Bootcamp as your niche. They’ll lead you to believe that you will, and while you could . . . it’s what I consider to be a very advanced niche which only experienced or uber-motivated IM’ers should pursue.

Alright, so the ‘choose an interest’ step is pretty self-explanatory, provided you arrive at WA with at least one interest.

Just don’t do the Bootcamp . . . I’m serious. I’ve seen a boatload of abandoned WA affiliate sites where the site owner followed the same cookie cutter methods outlined in the training, worked hard at it for 30-60 days, never to return.

Follow your passion, not the money. Don’t be a soulless Wealthy Affiliate pie-in-the-sky zombie slave who tries to start a business by promoting something you know very little about and have yet to see success with yourself.

That is deceptive and that is lazy.

Instead, seek to provide value. Be informative. Be helpful.

Ok…on to the next step in their ‘how to get started’ sales proposition…

Build a Website

Oh my god…this step is so misleading. I especially love this bit…

In a matter of seconds, you will have your own website up and you can choose a design that appeals to you.

HaHa! If I were new to online business, website administration and WordPress, I would assume they meant you can have your site up and ready within seconds. That’s what it says, right?!

Bullshit.

Wealthy Affiliate has an install wizard which can technically have your site themed and online within seconds, but that is just the beginning.

It is going to take you weeks and weeks of online training, loads of content creation and endless tinkering before you’ll have a legitimate web presence. You may think your website is great and you’ll be proud of the fact that you did it yourself, but I’m telling you…to build a competitive and professional web presence requires a great deal of experience and/or resources.

There is no misinformation outlined in this step, but so much about the process of building an internet marketing site is left out. It’s not dishonest, but it is deceiving. Even if you progress through their free course, you’ll still only possess the basics of the basics. To have any hope of knowing what to do with your site you’ll absolutely have to go premium and be prepared to spend tons of hours learning and asking questions.

Attract Visitors

They tell you that you need visitors to your site in order to profit from your new business. Shyeah..! Of course you need visitors to make any money.

Good news is, Wealthy Affiliate goes on to say that within the first few lessons you’re going to learn the techniques that will allow you to get an abundance, no wait…ABUNDANCE of relevant customers to your site by way of organic search. Most folks reading this have no idea just how difficult this is. If you know how to do it, then it’s mainly just hard work, but for those of you that don’t understand the process…you’re in for a long education full of trial and error.

If rankings were easy to obtain, everyone would be doing this, am I right..?! No way anyone new to IM is going to learn even a smidgen of what they need to know through those first few lessons. I’ve gone through the lessons. I know.

Earn Revenue

Once your site is built and gaining relevant traffic, making money from it is entirely possible. It’s all of the stuff leading up to the monetization part that is difficult.

The problem with 90% of those who join Wealthy Affiliate is that they fast-forward right to here. Some of that could be delusions of grandeur, part of it may be impatience or desperation, but I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Wealthy Affiliate lures people in by having them believe that the process is so easy.

It’s not. It’s really f**king hard!

But it seems like as soon as people get their WordPress site up and running, they want to add their about page, privacy policy, a few posts, and then smear it with ads . . . at which point I imagine them sitting and staring at their computer waiting for the money to start pouring out of it like an ATM.

This is not how IM works.

You’re only seconds away from starting a business…

This is true. Within seconds you could have access to the training and website launcher that will allow you to start a business, but you are months and months (and more likely…years) away from making any money.

Is Wealthy Affiliate a legit product..?

Yes.

Do I recommend Wealthy Affiliate?

It depends. If you go into it with realistic expectations and are aware of the sacrifices and suffering involved with being successful as an affiliate marketer, then WA can provide you with an easy to follow – albeit basic – road map.

It is a decent product, however, but I think that it attracts a lot of misled buyers because of how easy they make it all seem. Sure, you can make money at it if you follow their training and tutorials. I’m sure of this, but . . . most people who arrive at Wealthy Affiliate will be lucky if they make enough money to pay for their membership.

If you’re new to IM with visions of grandeur – thinking you’re going to crush it as a Wealthy Affiliate ‘affiliate’. Don’t. I’m serious. Don’t. You will fail, and the internet is already rife with thin ‘make-money-online’ websites. We don’t need any more of those – especially those created by impostors and wannabes.

Since joining Wealthy Affiliate, it’s been my goal to help new and existing members speed up the process for getting results. If you want to try it out and see if affiliate marketing is right for you, go ahead and sign up. If you join through my site, I will personally follow you and provide answers if you get stuck.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll do the work for you. I’m here to help facilitate success, but creating a successful business is on you

Source credit goes to https://crajun.com/affiliate-marketing-articles/problem-wealthy-affiliate/

[writingwithryder]

At What Cost [Áine Tabris]

Áine Tabris had been asked to stay in the King’s court after the defeat of the Archdemon – Eamon had insisted, imploring that the famed, “Hero of Ferelden” would have pull in the politics of the recently Blighted country. In truth, she wanted to go home – to pick up the pieces of the life she left behind a year ago, and start anew; there was no life for her there, however, her fiancée was dead, half of the alienage sold into slavery or murdered for her actions against the Arl’s son and a nobleman’s vanity. Guilt seared through her veins – every person missing, lost to Tevinter slavers or dead, was someone that she didn’t save – couldn’t save, because for all the talk of Grey Warden influence and power she was still just a…

“Oi. Knife-ear!”

Yes. That. Blinking she turned from the window she had been staring out of, searching for the human who had accosted her. Finding the offender, a secondary cook, she stares at him, eyes defiant – she obviously knew who he was, the question now, did he recognize her, or did all “knife-ears” look the same to the shemlen. She was out of her now staple, thanks to the Orleasian Wardens, Warden Regalia in favor of soft cotton floral skirts and loose fitting shirts belted at her waist, only her mother’s boots remained of the Hero of Ferelden’s well-regarded garb. In truth, she didn’t realize just how much she had missed the simple fabrics until she came across them in the Market a week ago – sold by a dear friend from the Alienage, who she had paid ten sovereigns more than what was asked for the clothing; the look on the woman’s face was one that Áine would never forget.

“Don’t just stand there you stupid elf, the King will be by in a matter of minutes! Make yourself–”

Hearing enough, Áine turned on her heel, ignoring the shouts of the shemlen cook, who was near the color of puce at being ignored by who he was certain was just another elven servant. Feet on the window sill, she leapt to the roof, feet skidding against the brick until she had managed to shimmy her upper body onto the roof completely. On silent foot falls, she retraced the steps she had decidedly taken over the last two weeks, to the best view of the entire city, at least, in her opinion. The skyline at dusk was more beautiful than any of the many vistas she had been privy to during her sojourn – the yellows and oranges and golds and reds melting together against the shadowed buildings of the market district and the white sails of the ships leaving dock, billowing clouds of white against the ever changing sky. The din of the people in the streets below her only broken by the occasional caw of the black birds and seagulls who were her only companions.

It was nice. Quiet. Peaceful. Almost as if the Blight had never happened. It was never this quiet in the Alienage – there was always noise, always life, and yet the quiet suited Áine just fine. Peace was welcomed after the year of death and destruction and cries and pleas for help and salvation. Eyes closing, she breathed in the peace around her, let it fill her up, let her forget if just for a moment, what it took to get here, how many lives were lost for her to attain this kind of peace.

“I had asked the Hero of Ferelden to join us today.”

Eamon’s voice drifted up through the open windows of the castle, stirring Áine from her daydreams. She would never, ever be used to that title – it befit her as well as the fine silks of the nobility that Leliana had demanded she try, which she had traded in for soft cottons and small amounts of lace.

“Oh? She’s here? I – I haven’t seen her since the coronation.”

His voice, even now, pulled at her heartstrings, dredged up memories that she had worked so hard to hide away. Her body shifted, wanting nothing more than to forget those nights the two of them had spent curled by the fire. It stirred something in her – moved her to anger and sadness, longing panging deeply in her chest.

“She is like a ghost – none of the staff or Isolde ever get more than a glance at her, and then she’s gone. A trait I’m certain she’s had all her life.”

It had been clear to Áine since Eamon had caught the two of them in one of the back halls of his Denerim Estate before the Landsmeet how little he approved of his ward’s choice in companion. It incensed her, sure, but what truly made her angry was the fact that she had expected nothing less. He was no different than Vaughn, none of them were – not even the man she was certain she once loved.

“You can’t – you can’t say that, Eamon. She saved all of Thedas. She saved you. She saved your son. She saved your wife!”

It had been the first time since the Landsmeet that he had defended her. Alistair had been so angry with her after the Landsmeet, and she had avoided him, anger and sadness made her avoid him, right up until she begged him to save them both – for if he had loved her at all, surely he could do this.

“And it is good she learned her place! Can you imagine what the gentry would say if word got out that you…. Dallied with an elf?”

His last words were hushed and disgust filled – and Áine had heard enough. Crossing over to the other side of the roof, she slipped into the back garden, determined to head back to the Alienage, she paused, perhaps the Market District. She couldn’t face her people yet. Not when they called her “hero” undeservedly. As she gracefully descended the roof, hands gently grappling sills until her feet were once again against the soft Ferelden ground, when her body unceremoniously crumpled to the ground. Emotions that she had so conservatively kept in check since the day of the Landsmeet seemed to at once burst from her body, exhausting her and breaking her in a way that she hadn’t felt since Duncan had taken her from Denerim what seemed like a lifetime ago. She commanded her body to rise, to stop sobbing like a child, to move before a guard or a former companion saw her in such a state.

“Áine?”

Her body now shot up, not of her own accord but of his and shivers ran down her spine involuntarily. Bringing an arm up, she wiped the tears from her face and pulled on the mask that she had become so good at donning.

“Your Majesty?”

She bowed, polite and cordial refusing, however, to meet his gaze. Eyes dancing among the butterfly bushes that she so loved, those just blooming in the early springtime. She knew if she looked into his eyes, whatever resolve she had managed to build in the last fortnight would be destroyed.

“You – you don’t have to do that, Áine, I’m not–”

His words broke off, voice conflicted and broken and so very reminiscent of the man she had come to love. Not the person who had broken her heart in front of their traveling companions, not the king who was certain to take a human wife and forget her as easily as all shemlen did the elves they bedded as little more than whores.

“I haven’t seen you since the coronation, Áine – I – everyone has missed your presence.”

Her eyes refused to leave the bright orange flowers, imagining the butterflies that would soon dance among their petals and fill the dreary gardens with life that they so much needed. She willed her legs to move, to leave, for not it was as if he was speaking to a wounded animal, she begged her body, pleaded with whatever gods were listening and finally, she was moving, fast, tears blurring her vision as she sprinted for a crack in the wall she was certain was there. She didn’t want this; she never wanted this, she wanted her Alistair, the young, naïve boy who she had given her whole heart to, and if he saw her now, and begged her to stay, she wasn’t sure she’d have the power to leave his side.

“Áine, please.”

His hand was as warm as she remembered as it wrapped itself around her wrist, words pleading her to stay as he pulled her into his chest, towards him and she found herself forced to look upon him for the first time since the top of Fort Drakon, when she took the time to memorize every detail, for if Morrigan’s ritual had failed, she wanted her last memory to be of him. And in his eyes was all she feared – pity, regret and even worse, love.

“Did Eamon find you a wife yet?”

The words were unbidden and spite filled, and yet she did not stop them, anger at the love and pity she had found buried in his vision. He was the one who ended it, he had no right to regret it, or pity her for it was his fault she was as a wounded animal and love – what right had he to love? What right did he have to love her after all he did to her? And her words continued, spilled out viciously and without restraint, as if him hating her would make their parting easier.

“One that fulfills the political machinations I’m sure he has planned. I’m sure she’s a pretty shemlen thing. Maker forbid you wait too long – or the gentry be made to think that you actually loved the knife ear you took to bed all those months while defending Ferelden.”

His brow furrowed at the venom in her words, and Áine found herself forced to blink away the tears from her eyes. Damn this man, damn his gentle look and soft eyes and how she longed to kiss his lips one more time.

“Áine, you know that isn’t fair.”

A laugh pealed from her throat, when had things ever been fair for her? For her people? And he dared declare her the villain of their conversation.

“Do you think that because I am poor, obscure, plain and little that I am soulless and heartless?”

Eamon now appeared in the doorway, apparent in search for the new king, but now for the show that Áine was certain he helped in its unfolding. His gaze and smug look make her rip her hand from Alistair’s grasp.

“I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if the Maker had granted be the life of a human, I should have made it has hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!”

There was nothing now to stop the tears, anger and sadness both drew them out and without further word she disappeared just as the fairy queen for which she was named.

#DAO #the cageless bird

[hereticaloracles]

Full Moon in Scorpio- Wormwood

“There is an ancient tribal proverb I once heard in India. It says that before we can see properly we must first shed our tears to clear the way.” – Libba Bray

Effective Date:  5/10/2017

Helios’ Astrological Angle on the Full Moon in Scorpio5- Well, this Lunation is about to be one bitter pill to swallow. Yes, you have already had to deal with much, giving up on what you thought was important, and choosing the hills that you want to die on, but unfortunately it is not over for you. No, all that you have done so far is preamble. Look, you have to realize that not all things are possible, all at the same time. Yes, you can have it all, but you have to take the proper steps to get there, and sometimes that means taking a backstep. Remember, quite a bit of these skies are still Retrograde, way more than we are used to. That makes forward motion difficult, if not impossible. With all the planets Retrograde (Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto) and those who are still in Shadow from recent Retrogrades (Mercury, Venus, Vesta) we are having to refocus and reasses every foundation that we have built our lives on thus far. This may seem like a disaster to us, but we have to look ahead to see what is coming: Saturn in Capricorn. Specifically, I have had my eye on a specific moment when we will have Saturn in Capricorn, conjoining Pluto and Jupiter (this also happens to be my Saturn Return. Gods help me.) in 2020, so that will be fun.With his shadow looming large over us, everything starts to make more sense. These days, hell this whole retrograde-dominated year, is one big stress test for your life and what you have built for yourself. These moments can feel poisonous to you, and you will have to make drastic decisions if you want to get through it intact.

Artemis’ Tarot Take on the Full Moon in Scorpio- This is the last of it, Heretics. The North Node in Virgo, that is, and with it we are getting some cutting experiences.  This is the culmination of you finding out just how much of a doormat you really are before the NN moves into Leo, the sign of Ego and Self Worth. But Virgo wants you to give you one last work review, and it’s going to be a particularly scarring one which will move you on to your next challenge – the North Node moving into Leo – aka finding your pride in how you re-confront your mistakes. Do you see failures as opportunities for transformation or do you see them as a wall that you cannot push through, boxing you in and suffocating you – forcing you to pace in circles for all of eternity? Usually when these situations hit us, when we are stuck in a room with a door that does not open whether we push or pull, it is time to start digging instead…

The Sun, Moon and Pluto– This one is going to cut you deep, y’all. The terrifying thing about the Moon mixing with Pluto is that the Moon shows Pluto your vulnerable spots, the soft belly that your spiny ridges and defenses protect. Of course, that means that Pluto will be attacking you on your Sun, aka through your ego. This is actually the least attractive tactic to Pluto, who prefers the stealth assault, and only uses this in two situations: Where he is completely confident in his power and willing to come out into the light; Or when he is desperate and no other recourse is available to him. Either way, in choosing the frontal attack, Pluto becomes vulnerable, as his main power comes from the shadows he hides in, in whispers and secrets. When he comes into the light he is exposed as less than what he pretends to be. So it will be for us during this moon. What terrifies us will be shown to be nothing more than the fears of a child, irrational and blown out of proportion.

We all have these fears lurking in our subconscious- about our self-worth and if we are good enough to get what we want, that sort of thing- But this Lunation will amplify that to the nth degree. The ones to look out for are the fears regarding love and our relationships, of our connection to spirit, and of failure leading us to play it far too safe in our dealings. You must not allow yourself to get sucked into the drama and power plays of others. Stay in your lane, and focus on what you are building. Never forget who you are, no matter what you have to do to rebuild.

(Minor Planets used: Juno, Ceto, Bienor, Magdalena, Minerva, Phaethon, Amor, Cyllarus, Klotho)

The Sun(Ace of Wands), Moon(The Tower), and Pluto (5 of Cups)- There is a dark serpent energy here, slithering its way into every crevice of your life and offering you another bit of the fruit that opens your eyes. Are you too scared to actually face what your world is really like?  This moon is a visionary moon and wants to show you the truth; no matter how grotesquely it may manifest for we’ve all been lying to ourselves in one way or another and creating monsters because of this. Scorpio hates a liar – even a liar with good intentions – so truths she has to tell will always leave a shiver up your spine. The passion during this moon is extraordinarily intense and also extraordinarily sexual. This is all because this moon has been touched by Pluto (and we all know what happens when you are touched by Pluto, you get pulled into the fucking underworld – gnashing teeth and bodies of hell). Your sense for danger will be heightened and your aggression toward being dominated will become deadly under these stars. And pay close attention, Heretics, because people’s corruption will rise to the surface like swamp scum.

When animals sense danger, their sexual urges also increase. It’s a strange “mate before you can’t pass on your legacy” sort of feeling, and we are all experiencing the pressure in society.  The depravity is far more evident than it ever was – no matter how dressed up we try to make the world and our lives. At this point it’s like putting lipstick on a corpse; we still see how dead the world is becoming day by day and we notice this death creeping into our own lives as well. We sit at work, wondering why the fuck we are really there and what the purpose of it all is – no matter how seemingly fulfilling your job may be, it is still feeding a dark system (Why does your yoga studio need a rich girl merchandise section if yoga is a spiritual art? Where is the money in your non-profit really going?) We are feeding our souls into a soulless machine that loves to lie to us and give us the illusion of purpose, and the burden of this daily activity is making our subconscious scream in terror – wanting to take a hammer to all the things around us. This moon is Kali energy – here to swallow whole false towers.  And what happens when dismantling begins? Deceit gets far more intense. Enemies find a new wrath during this full moon, and an “evil” sort of energy prevails similar to what we had during the new moon in Scorpio back on Hallow’s Eve 2016.  Your “demons” are coming back to play in hoards, and I suggest you do not ignore them and continue making them more grotesque due to your self delusion. You may call what you see “evil” but it is really just all of the massive amounts of repression being let out – oozing through our pours and permeating our dreams. This is a healing moon, but healing in a sort of violent way where you must sear the wound with fire in order to close it. Healing through “sex magick” is a must with this Pluto sextile, and a warning to keep your eyes open is also a must. It seems the universe wants to reveal some dangerous truths to us, and they may manifest in very violent and “sinful” ways.

Mercury, Saturn and Uranus– Harsh lessons are coming. These planets are cold in their expression, and very mental. Along with all the transneptunians involved here, that leads us to seeing some very stark realities. We are going to have to face our reality as it is, like running into a brick wall. There is no more burying your head in the sand with these guys, we all have to wake up and get to work. No matter how tired we are, how hurt, disillusioned, numb, forgotten or judged we feel; we cannot quit now. We must push on, and play the game. Hang on to what drives you, the dream of the future you seek to build, and there is no way that you can lose. Still, sometimes you have to bluff on a bad hand….

(Minor Planets used: Chiron, Eris, Sedna, Ixion, Varuna, Rhadamanthus, Damocles, Icarus, Rhiphonos)

Mercury (Hangman), Saturn (Ace of Pentacles), Uranus (High Priestess)- You ever have a really bad trip?  You know, you take a bunch of psychedelics and you realize just how artificial everything is. You get the creeps when you look at advertisements, you want to shatter your tv, and you want to go lie outside in the grass and feel something real? It’s this weird understanding that we have built false laws into our lives – a sort of self imposed hell where we believe in weird things like light always prevailing and that somehow none of us have primal urges toward aggression. Why do you think we have the reptilian part of our brain that we do? There is a reminder here that we live in two worlds. One is the world which we have created that is based on abstract concepts like, “freedom,” and “justice,” and “morality,” etc, and the other world is the Scorpionic world – the one based off of the true order of things that rests just below the surface and wrecks our false dreams at every turn. And in the true order of things, death and violence and transformation is a daily occurring thing. Most humans live their lives trying to manifest themselves into the perfect marketed image of a human, when humanity is far more gritty and elusive and intense than we could ever believe.

There is wisdom in the chaos – wisdom in the violence of nature that we must take to heart and swallow like a pill. Do not ignore the fact that you can only gain false purpose if you follow an abstract path. There is reality, and there is human simulated reality that we have roped together as a collective. Do not let the latter weigh you down and make you feel any less than. Stick to your intuition during this lunation, and don’t fall for false prophets who promise you the gold of heaven or some sort of abstract method of breaking down human behavior. There is a wisdom you seek deep in mother earth – deep in reality and it’s true constructs that can only be intuited, not abstractly manifested by the mind.

Venus– Our girl is all alone, still playing by herself in the Aries sandbox, and that is probably how you are feeling right now as well- Alone, isolated, and trying to distract yourself from it until you have someone to play with. Take this time as a gift, and focus on yourself. Sure, doing so seems like an agonizing torment when you realize how out of touch you are with yourself, but I’m sure that it’ll be fine. Do whatever you have to in order to recover. Retreat from everyone, go to ground, and get back on track. Put your head down, work hard, get in bangin shape and get your money right. Fall in love with yourself again, remember why you are amazing and why you chose this path in your life. You are being so cruel to yourself, punishing yourself for perceived mistakes and failures, most of which you had no way to see coming or stop. You did the best you could with what you had, and there is no shame in that. Rediscover the magic in your life, and come back to it, ASAP- it might just save your soul.

(Minor Planets used: Orcus, Eros, Psyche, Hylonome, Crantor, Circe, Achilles, Siva)

Venus (5 Swords)- So it’s time to wrap up your payment for Venus Retrograde, where you may have destroyed your values for momentary delights. Our girl is just about out of shadow (another 9 days after this full moon), but the Scorpio energy of this lunation is going to be a bit of an inquisition. There is a “struggling against fate” energy here, where we may be attempting to get back something that we lost during Venus’ Babylonian rage through our lives. But, again, the lesson during this lunation is that not everything can be intellectualized and you must look deep into yourself to see if the right choices were made. Even if something feels painful and crushing, the severance of that limb may be the very thing that saves your life and lets you continue growing. You made the decisions you made, now there is no going back. So move on with it; I promise you there are greener pastures ahead that you just can’t see through the cloud of your tears. I know it is difficult to realize people’s true intentions with you, but Venus retrograded to show us that not everyone’s love is a positive influence on our life. Love is a wonderful thing, but some love is shackles of our past karma and repression. Some “love” just smooths things over gets us off, like a cheap prostitute, instead of forcing us to reckon with ourselves and truly transform into what we are meant to be. Don’t stay with lovers, don’t feed lovers that do not feed your purpose.

Mars, Jupiter and Neptune– The biggest thing that I hear from you guys is that you are lost, or don’t know what to do with your life after all that has happened to you. That is okay. Honestly, that’s the only sane reaction to what a lot of you have faced. The thing is, do you really have to do anything? No, don’t just dismiss that out of hand- think about it. What if you just do nothing? At some point it all just becomes too much; You can only plug up the holes and cracks in the dam for so long before it floods the town. Sooner or later, you need to focus on evacuating that town so that the disaster can happen with minimal loss of life. If you ignore the root problem and only treat the symptoms, then you never see any real improvements. Sometimes, everything needs to be destroyed so that you can start fresh again. This is looking more and more like one of those times, both in the world and for yourself. If you realize it and embrace it, then it will be easier than if you reject it until you are steamrolled by it.

Sometimes you have to lose, and its hard. Other times, you have to surrender and it’s even harder. The price of progress in those situations is your ego. When the only option you have is giving up, that is a heavy price to pay, but it means that you can live to fight another day, instead of fading away into insignificance with naught more than a whisper. Unfortunately, sometimes it is the only way. What I am proposing is not at all giving yourself over to the firing squad, no- what I am suggesting is that instead of going down with the ship as a romantic or heroic sacrifice, you get on a damn lifeboat. There is more to you that you have yet to do, and calling the curtain early is not in the cards for you. I’m sorry, because it feels like agony to see the stroy through to the end, but this must be done- there is no escape from your fate. Hold your head up high, and walk into the arena with your dignity, like a true hero.

(Minor Planets used: Pallas Athene, Asbolus, Okyrhoe, Teharonhiawako, Praamzius, Terpshichore, Lachesis, Orpheus, Narcissus, Chariklo, Hygeia, Persephone, Bacchus, Asclepius, Urania, Kassandra)

Mars (Temperance), Jupiter (10 of Wands), Neptune (5 of Wands)-  Alejandro Jodorowsky once said, “Birds born in a cage think that flying is an illness.” Although I agree with Alejandro to an extent, I also believe that said birds have an instinct to fly that itches and prods at them to no extent yet their circumstances make it impossible to ever realize what that itching and prodding is actually for. Maddening, isn’t it? I find humans to be the exact same way. We play these abstract games with each other, not realizing that they are mere shadows of how reality truly manifests. Our joy is taxed right now, and we see no end in sight with all the burdens we have piled upon ourselves. But wait! The key is to continue churning out rawness no matter how tired you may feel by these burdens and the heaviness of cultural dogma. Keep sending out the signals so that other humans know they are not alone in feeling this maddening separation from our true nature. You do not have to be anything the powers that be are telling you to be, and they continue to dump more and more on you so that you suffocate under the structures instead of smash them – showing everyone else that you don’t have to live any particular way. It is time to use the master’s weapons against him, so figure out how to use the system to your advantage and temper a transformation as if this reality is some sort of training regime – a cocoon if you will. In short, don’t give up on your dream just because the world is shitting on it. When the ancient Greeks died, the primary question anyone asked was, “Did they have passion?” And if so, their life was worth something incalculable. “Success” in this world may be the death of your soul. So although right now you may have to resign to the system in order to feed your family and keep yourself out of the prison industrial complex, do not stop plotting your escape. If you do, your repression of your instinct to fly will continue to manifest as demons in your head and you will have to eternally confront them and explain why you would rather live in a lie.

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Full Moon in Scorpio- Wormwood was originally published on Heretical Oracles

#Fuck My Life #Pluto #scorpio #Scorpio Full Moon #Transformation #astrology #tarot #asteroid astrology #fuckstrology #bruja #brujeria