#also I’ve been working on a gif set and it won’t translate from brain to gif

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Truth or Dare Season 1: Honeying Early Autumn (第1期・初秋蜜糖) Translation

✥ Side: Evan [Prologue]

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join my Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This contains the 2 different prologues! (1st time + consequent times) *Event story tag will be #For Light and Memories

❖ Prologue: First Round

Evan was especially busy as of late, perhaps because the Warson Group’s Spring and Summer show that had originally been slated for next year was suddenly brought forward.

As a result, our plans to go out over the weekend were once again disrupted by an emergency video conference.

Hence, our current situation. Evan had changed into a pristine suit and was facing the computer screen as he listened to the marketing department’s report with rapt attention. All I could do while he was occupied was to wander his study in boredom.

I retrieved a book of poems from his bookshelf, turning the pages once… twice… I just couldn’t seem to concentrate. I snuck a glance in his direction.

Evan’s brows were tightly knitted into a deep-set frown. Although he was completely immersed in his work, the faint dark eye circles under his eyes unwittingly revealed his exhaustion.

MC: Maybe… I should help him relax a little?

Once the meeting ended, the stagnant and heavy atmosphere slowly began to lighten back up. Evan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before getting up and slowly heading in my direction.

Evan: Sorry. I had some business that couldn't wait. Thankfully, it didn't take all that long to get it settled. How about we prepare for a bit before heading out?

MC: Right… I was just thinking that maybe it'd be better if we stayed in today.

MC: You've been working so hard lately, and it's your well-deserved weekend. I don't think it'll be good to be eating further into your energy reserves.

Evan: Well, then how about we spend our free time in the study instead if that doesn't bore you to tears?

MC: Uh… Best not to tire your brain much further either.

I surveyed the area in search of something that two people could do to kill time together. Then, an idea clicked in my head.

Perhaps it would be better if we played a little game that required no brain power at all.

MC: How about we play a game of Red Hands?

Evan: Red Hands? I've never played that before. Can you explain the rules to me?

MC: It's a game that I used to play frequently as a kid.

MC: So, for example, my hands go below and yours go above. I win if I can flip my hand around and land a hit on your hand.

Evan: The rules sound simple enough.

MC: I just want to play a small game that doesn’t need any brain cells, so you’ll live even if you go in head empty, no thoughts.

MC: But there must be merit and demerit to games…

MC: Come to think of it, I think I have a deck of Truth or Dare cards in my bag.

I winked at Evan.

MC: The loser will have to pick a card from the decks and do whatever's stated on it as a punishment for losing.

Evan: Truth or Dare? It was a very popular game played during gatherings back when I was still studying. It's been a long time since I played it.

MC: I'm curious to see how you'll take a dare.

Evan: You're that certain of your victory against me? No running if you're the one who has to do a dare.

MC: Of course I won't run. A word for a word, a promise for a promise. Let's begin!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

❖ Prologue: Consequent Rounds

After a round, Evan took the cards from my hand and reshuffled them back into order.

Sunlight shone into the room through the glass windows, illuminating the edges of his figure. I could see the tiny dust particles dancing in the air amidst the bright light. Then, it suddenly occurred to me that this was still Evan’s study; the place where he worked.

It was as if the game was imbued with magic, for it swept away the originally solemn atmosphere that hung in the air with nary a trace in sight.

I could also use this opportunity to see him do the things that he’d normally never do. I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from curling up into a smile at the thought of it.

Evan neatly stacked the cards together, placing them atop the coffee table before facing me with a smile.

Evan: Penny for your thoughts?

MC: I want to play another round!

Evan: Looks like your child-like eagerness knows no bounds no matter where we are.

MC: Yeah! It’s easy to get hooked playing games with you!

I stretched out my palms in his direction and felt the warmth of his palms meet mine once more.

Evan: Okay. Ready? Let's start.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Memories⊹ —————★❖

Next: (Evan- Game on!)

✥ Choose another Player:

Side: Osborn

Side: Sariel

Side: Charlie

Side: Jesse

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆沉 #Evan #For Light and Memories #初秋蜜糖 #Honeying Early Autumn #Truth or Dare

[swan-of-sunrise]

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Seven)

Summary: (Y/N) makes a break in the case that leads her and Jack into a dangerous situation, and something begins to shift in their partnership.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous Chapter)

Rubbing at her temples in a weak attempt to rid herself of a splitting headache, (Y/N) once again cursed Michael Carter and his codes. They were easily the most challenging codes she’d ever attempted to crack, but a small part of her couldn’t help but admire his skill. A very small part, she thought through gritted teeth as her head throbbed in pain.

Hearing footsteps approaching her desk, (Y/N) reluctantly opened her eyes to see Jack saunter past and drop a folded note into her crowded inbox without a single glance at her. She watched as he entered Daniel’s office before grabbing the note and unfolding it; her eyes skimmed over the message, which she had to read twice to confirm she wasn’t seeing things:

Take a break from M’s codes, Specs, you look like your brain’s gonna explode.

Glancing up from the note, her eyes immediately found Jack looking at her through the glass window of the office, his eyebrows raised expectantly. She shook her head and struggled to suppress a smile as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. As well-meaning as his note had been, both she and Jack knew that until she decoded another of Michael’s codes, their investigation was virtually on hold. Jack had reached out to some more of his friends in D.C. in order to learn more about Michael’s military background, but the continuation of their investigation rested squarely on (Y/N)’s overly-stressed shoulders. If I keep this up I’m gonna get grey hair before I’m thirty, (Y/N) groaned inwardly as she returned her gaze to the code before her. Before she could resume her work, Peggy entered the bullpen and as she made her way towards her desk, (Y/N) surreptitiously covered the code with her translation journals.

“Can I ask you for a favor, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) smiled warmly, concealing any signs of fatigue from her friend. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“The New York branch is a little overwhelmed with decoding old wartime messages for documentation and filing, so Daniel’s offered them our services.” Peggy began thumbing through one of the files she’d set down on the desk. “They’re fairly straightforward codes, so they won’t do anything to aggravate that headache of yours; in fact, they may even serve to relax you.” (Y/N)’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Peggy’s grin widened at her reaction. “Oh, please, (Y/N), we worked together for years; you don’t think I’ve forgotten how you act when your headaches come on, do you?”

“You’re right, Peg, I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point in our relationship.” Shrugging good-naturedly, (Y/N) helped her friend clear a space on the desk and set up their codebreaking materials. Once Peggy had fetched them each a strong cup of tea, they began their work. Just as the younger woman had predicted, (Y/N) quickly found herself relaxing as she decoded message after message, only pausing in order to sip her lemon and honey tea.

They had been working in comfortable silence for a while when Peggy suddenly spoke. “Good Lord, I haven’t seen this style of code in years! You’re the one who introduced them to me at Bletchley, remember?”

“Hmm?” Dragging her eyes away from her half-finished code, (Y/N)’s lips curved into a smile as she studied the page in Peggy’s hand. “Ah, poem codes! As I recall, you thought it was an archaic code and a waste of time to learn. You still feel the same way about it?”

“Oh, sod off.” Peggy’s withering look was broken by a reluctant grin. “I’ll admit, poem codes are useful but they’re still a pain in the ass to decode and no one outside of Literature students could possibly know enough poems to successfully utilize them.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue but froze as inspiration suddenly struck. Thinking fast, she gathered her translation journals and Michael’s code, whipped off her reading glasses and stood. “I forgot, I’ve got to get these write-ups down to Rose before lunch; I’ll be back in a jiffy, Peg!” With a brief glance in the direction of Daniel’s office, (Y/N) strode out of the bullpen and down the halls, quickly finding herself ducking into a cramped supply closet. She was practically bouncing in excitement by the time Jack squeezed his way into the space and flicked on the small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. “I’ve done it!”

“What, finally had a mental breakdown? I know we need those codes cracked but you’re gonna run yourself into the ground at the rate you’re going, and-”

Unable to contain herself, (Y/N) reached up and covered his mouth with her hand; his eyes widened in surprise and before he could scowl, (Y/N) removed her hand and exclaimed, “I figured out how Michael’s creating his codes! He’s using his background in Literature to develop his own coding style! Remember, you read in that file the other week that he attended Cambridge before enlisting in the British Armed Forces, majoring in Philosophy and minoring in Literature; he definitely would’ve learned enough there to be able to create new codes.”

Jack’s brow rose and she got the sense that he was impressed by her epiphany. “And this new style, you can figure it out?”

“It’ll still be a challenge but since I think I have an insight into his process now, it shouldn’t take nearly as long as it has been.” With a triumphant grin, (Y/N) gestured to the code in her hand. “How about we decode this one over a turkey and Swiss at the diner tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan. Maybe we can also think of a better meeting place while we’re at it?” Jack’s face suddenly broke out into an amused grin. “I mean, the others might get the wrong idea if they catch us in here. You and me alone in a tiny supply closet…? Very scandalous.”

(Y/N) arched an unimpressed brow. “Is that so?”

“Oh, definitely. It’ll spread all over the office that the new codebreaker’s seduced the innocent Chief and then my reputation’ll be ruined.” His grin widened and (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she worked on extricating herself from the closet. “Hey, defending my virtue’s very important to me, Specs, don’t knock it!”

“Well, in that case…” Standing on her tiptoes and without a second thought, (Y/N) pressed a quick kiss on his neck and pulled away to admire the red lipstick staining his skin and shirt collar; with a smirk of her own, she gazed up at Jack’s stunned face. “Have fun defending that one, Flyboy.”

Before he could respond, she ducked back out of the closet and made her way back to the bullpen, fanning herself with her free hand as she went; for some odd reason, her face had suddenly become uncomfortably warm…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks again for the ride, Specs, but I still say I could’ve made it back to Stark’s place okay on my own.”

(Y/N) took her eyes off the empty backroad to shoot the man beside her an amused look. “You sprained your ankle jumping off my fire escape; you and I both know that it’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch if you put more pressure on it than necessary, which would’ve happened if you stood waiting for a taxi. Besides, I feel a little guilty for laughing as hard as I did when you had to hide from Mrs. Espinoza in the juniper bush.”

Jack’s lips curled into a reluctant grin and he pointed a warning finger at her. “You tell anyone ‘bout that and you’re dead, you got it?” His grin widened. “You know, the last time I had to hide in a bush like that was when I was in high school; I was leaving my gal’s house when her old man came home early and to this day, I can’t look at a rose without feeling those damn thorns digging into my back.”

“Well, I’m sure your gal appreciated the gesture all the same, although I would’ve hid my fella in the garden shed if I were her.” She smirked but after feeling his eyes trained on her, she spared another glance at him. “What?”

“Did you date a lot in high school?” He raised his hands in defense when her brow rose in surprise. “Hey, I’m just getting to know my partner a little better, you don’t have to answer or anything…”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “And if I choose not to answer I’m sure you’ll just drop the subject forever, huh?” Out of the corner of her eye, Jack shrugged again and she sighed in exasperation. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, Flyboy, but no, I didn’t date in high school. Even if my father hadn’t forbidden me from dating and I wasn’t overwhelmed with schoolwork, I doubt any of the fellas at my school were interested in me that way and to be frank, I wasn’t very interested in them, either.”

“Well, any guy would-wait, why’s that sign look so familiar?”

Pulling to the side of the road, (Y/N) squinted to make out the sign in the faint glow of her headlights. “‘Fieldman Family Orangery, Next Left.’ I think it’s just a-” Her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. “Wait. Michael’s personnel file had an Adam Fieldman listed as a roommate from Cambridge. You don’t really think…?”

Jack had already retrieved her briefcase from the back seat and withdrawn the message she’d decoded over dinner. “You tell me.” Written in her barely-legible handwriting was ‘FFO-Lab/Dist.’ “C’mon, at best we get more intel on whatever the hell Michael and his people are doing and at worst, we break into some poor geezer’s orangery by mistake.”

“Maybe we should wait for another day…?”

“It’s a Friday night, so there’s bound to be nobody hanging around and the moon’s out, which’ll provide us with some natural light. All perfect conditions for a little snooping around.”

Ignoring the feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, (Y/N) switched off the headlights and slowly drove closer to the orangery; endless rows of orange trees ringed a sizable factory building and off to the side was a lot filled with a dozen large delivery trucks. She parked the car behind the trucks and reached into her purse for her gun and pen. “You stay here, I’ll take a quick look around and-”

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” It was Jack’s turn to look apprehensive. “You’re not going in there alone.”

Once again sighing in exasperation, (Y/N) gestured to Jack’s ankle. “It’s a little difficult to snoop around when you can’t even walk, Flyboy, wouldn’t you say? I’m a fully trained field agent so I’ll be more than fine by myself in there. Okay?”

With his arms crossed over his chest, Jack’s hardened blue eyes bored into hers and she stared right back, raising a single challenging brow. After several moments, he turned away and heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine, I won’t go in.” When she made no move to leave the car, he threw up his hands in exasperation and gave her a look. “I promise, I’ll be a good boy and stay in the car! Happy?”

“I suppose so.” Without waiting for a reply, (Y/N) opened the car door and quietly stepped out.

Instead of arguing with her some more, Jack leaned forward and caught her arm before she could move, his hand wrapping firmly around her bare wrist; it might’ve been her imagination, but she could’ve sworn that her skin flushed at the contact. “And what’re you gonna do with a pen, Specs, write on ‘em?”

“You’d be surprised.” She gave him a secretive smile and withdrew her arm from his grasp before closing the car door and sneaking her way towards the closed factory, tucking the seemingly innocent pen into her pocket as she went.

Now this takes me back, (Y/N) thought to herself a handful of minutes later when she went about picking the lock of one of the side doors; she’d learned the skill shortly after joining up with the Howling Commandos and would never forget how many of her hairpins had been destroyed during her practice sessions with the soldiers. I’m pretty sure Barnes promised he’d buy me some more once the war was over, she recalled with a twinge of sadness as she remembered the easy-going Sergeant, but the feeling was quickly replaced with elation when the door unlocked with a faint click.

Nudging the door open with the toe of her shoe, (Y/N) raised her gun and entered what appeared to be a large packaging room; stacks of wooden crates formed long rows and in the faint light of the moon streaming through the skylights, she could barely make out an open doorway. Just as she was about to continue into the room, the sudden sound of footsteps grew increasingly louder and caused her to spring into action; moving as quietly as she could, (Y/N) hurried down the left-hand row and after spotting a gap in between two crates, hurriedly ducked into it and took a deep breath. The heavy footsteps grew louder before stopping altogether.

“There’s nothin’ here, wise-ass! I told you you was hearin’ things!”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your ass back here and deal, Jerry, I ain’t got all night to wait for you!” Another masculine voice called from the opposite end of the room. “And bring some more smokes while you’re at it!”

“Hey, you better not be lookin’ at my cards…!” Jerry’s voice faded as he hurried back to the opposite end of the room.

(Y/N) took a moment to let out the breath she’d been holding before poking her head out of her hiding spot to check if the coast was truly clear. Satisfied, she emerged and continued moving silently through the room and towards the open doorway; they must be security guards for the company, she reasoned as she flattened herself against the outstretch of wall behind the propped-open door, it doesn’t necessarily mean this place is connected to our case.

The moment the thought of sneaking back to her car to lay into Jack for his paranoia crossed her mind, (Y/N)’s attention was drawn to the muffled sound of voices through the open doorway. Ducking out of her hiding place, she crept into the next room and instantly spotted the light shining through the cracked-open door to her left; being mindful of her footsteps, she slowly moved closer to the doorway and flattened herself against the wall before finally allowing herself to listen to the voices.

“Listen, I’m okay with sending out another shipment in the next few weeks but we need to be more careful, the SSR-”

“-Hasn’t got a single clue about what it is or who invented it. My source inside the agency told me that their Chief has officially closed the case and that their only piece of evidence is locked away in their archives.”

The first man sighed in frustration. “All right, all right, but remind your hired goons not to leave another one behind at the next hit or that’ll have every agency in town on our tail. And tell the boss-”

“Tell him what? That you’re unsatisfied with your deal? I’m sure he’d love to-”

“N-no! No, no, I only meant…he needs to remember Chief Thompson…”

With a chuckle, the second man replied, “Concerned, are we? How touching. Rest assured, the boss hasn’t forgotten about that particular problem. Jack Thompson will soon be taken care of the same way he’s already taken care of that careless Templeton…”

Although she felt the handle of the gun slip out of her grasp, (Y/N) didn’t fully register it until the sound of the gun hitting the stone floor echoed throughout the room. Her heart jumped into her throat as she acted on pure instinct; she darted behind a stack of crates stamped with a vaguely-familiar symbol and fumbled with her jacket pocket, from which she finally withdrew her compact mirror. Holding it in front of her and adjusting its angle, (Y/N) watched as the door swung open and the two men hurried out. Because of the glare on her mirror, she was unable to make out any of their features and before she could get a closer look, the men caught sight of her gun on the floor and immediately ran back into the room; a moment later, a shrill alarm began blaring throughout the orangery.

“Shit.” She snapped her mirror closed and withdrew her pen from her pocket while she listened to the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching. Six men armed with pistols that just branched out into two groups, she deduced, most likely more on the way so there’s only one way to play this. After taking a quick peek around the crates and deep bolstering breath, she clicked down on the top of the pen and tossed it in the direction of the three armed men, flattening herself against the crates as the pen released a small-scale explosion that knocked out all three men.

As expected, the other three men were drawn to the commotion and (Y/N) used their reaction to her advantage; once they ran past her hiding spot, she leapt out and threw her compact mirror at the back of one of the men’s head, the force of it knocking him clear to the floor. Charging the two remaining men, she punched one roundly in the face and kneed him in the groin, using his unbalance to roughly shove him head-first into a stack of crates. The second man fired his gun at her and she ducked down just in time to avoid the bullet; she thrust a foot out and kicked his shin with the sharp heel of her shoe, jumping to her feet as yelled in pain and clutched his leg. She gave him a quick sidekick to the head and watched as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. The first man she’d thrown her compact at staggered to his feet, only to fall back down when (Y/N) grabbed an empty crate and slammed it upside his head.

Wasting no time, she dropped the crate, sprinted out of the room and back into the packaging room, the thought of escape being the only thing on her mind. Just as her eyes fell on the door she’d entered the orangery through, something large and solid slammed into her and sent her flying into the stack of crates to her left. She landed harshly onto the floor amid the broken wood and groaned in pain as she struggled to her feet, but a hard hit to her face sent her sprawling back down and her eyes instinctively squeezed shut.

“You’re one tough cookie, ya know?” The man standing over her let out an impressed whistle, and she recognized it as the voice of Jerry, one of the poker-playing guards from earlier. She also recognized the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded and was silently thankful she’d kept her eyes closed. “Shame it’s gotta end this way.”

“Yeah, you took the words right outta my mouth.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open just in time to watch as Jack Thompson knocked the man out with a single punch; the man fell to the ground in a heap and Jack immediately limped over to help her stand. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go, I already took care of the other guards but more’ll be coming…” They ran as quickly as their injuries would allow and since they were in such a hurry, (Y/N) didn’t complain when Jack dove into the driver’s seat and gunned it down the road. “That…that was the definition of a SNAFU.…”

(Y/N) struggled to control her erratic breathing and her shock was beginning to wear off, only to be replaced by white-hot anger. “I thought I told you to stay in the car!”

“Seriously? I just saved your ass from getting shot and you wanna argue about that now?”

“You didn’t trust that I could gather intel on my own, did you? That’s why you went in after promising you wouldn’t!”

“No, I went in after you ‘cause I heard a goddamn bomb go off and thought you were in trouble! And of course I trust you to get intel on your own, you’re an agent for crying out loud!”

She let out a heartless laugh at that. “This coming from the man who recently called me a weak, emotional liability!” Jack’s head turned sharply to face her and his dumbfounded expression only served to spur on her anger. “Face it, Jack Thompson, you don’t give a shit about our partnership, you just wanted to collect the intel by yourself for your investigation, and I-!” As she shifted in her seat, a white-hot pain erupted in her left leg and she couldn’t suppress the loud gasp of pain as her eyes squeezed shut. “Argh!”

“What’s wro-? Oh shit…” Jack’s abrupt shift in tone caused her to blink her eyes open and follow his horrified gaze to the expanding bloodstain on her thigh. “How deep’s that wound?” She didn’t answer, as the sight of her own blood was already causing her head to loll and her vision to darken. “Specs? (Y/N)! Hey hey hey, (Y/N), stay awake, you hear me? C’mon, keep your eyes open!” Her eyes were drifting closed, and the last thing she clearly remembered before succumbing to the darkness was the newfound pressure on her leg and the sound of her name being called over and over...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Cliffhanger! Thank you so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Eight

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up​ @fluffymadamina​ @remmyswritings​ @ourstarsailor​ @darkusangelus​ @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck​ @yeetyeetchickenmeat​ @sameoldbaby​ @theserenityspace​ @seeing-but-not-observing​ @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular  @mads-weasley​

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

[askagamedev]

How do I reject a recruiter's offer to talk without alienating them or any future offers they may have? I'm happily employed atm but one day I might want to be elsewhere.

There are two general approaches I’ve taken and neither has really had any negative repercussions from either of them. The first approach is politely declining. The second is outright ignoring them. That second one might seem a bit counterintuitive at first glance, but looking at it from a recruiter’s perspective has it make a lot of sense. Either way works just fine as long as you don’t actively attack the headhunters.

From a recruiter’s perspective, the primary goal that pays the bills and puts food on the table is to find good candidates and pass them on to the hiring managers like me. Bad or unqualified candidates should be thrown back, in hopes that they continue to grow, mature, and eventually become good candidates. Good candidates should be identified and passed on to the hiring manager. All candidates start in the undetermined bucket and get sorted into either good or bad. As a recruiter in such a situation, most of your primary concern is finding good candidates. Bad candidates, even ones that might eventually grow into good ones, are not what you’re concerned with - they’ve already been cut from contention.

Most recruiters (especially those who cold call you) send out dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of such messages to similar candidates in hopes of finding more potential candidates that may translate into a hire. They expect that many of those candidates will not reply and generally do not spend a lot of brain power on those who don’t respond - they focus on the positive responses they do get. This means that, if you’re out of contention for the position for whatever reason, you’re going into the reject pile and the recruiter generally has no further brain time for you. They generally won’t be vindictive or put you on their shit list unless you do something actively nasty to them. A nicely worded rejection or even radio silence generally isn’t nasty enough to warrant being shit listed. They won’t have hurt feelings from no response, they’ll just move on to the next set of candidates.

It’s also worth noting that hiring studios and recruiters are not permanently joined, even if the recruiter is in house. I’ve talked with some recruiters before where we met while they were representing one studio then talked again later when they were representing a different studio. Similarly, I’ve been approached by the same studios more than once over the years by different recruiters representing them. The shit list generally stays with the recruiter and not the studio unless you do something really heinous.

In my experience, being nice to a recruiter may make that recruiter more likely to reach out to you for jobs but not necessarily offer jobs at the studio they were representing when you were nice to them - it’s whoever they’re currently representing. Radio silence is a perfectly viable option and will not burn bridges unless you have an existing and friendly relationship with the recruiter already. Don’t attack recruiters, they are just people trying to do their jobs. When I started in the industry, I was more of the polite declination response type, but now I only reply to recruiters if I am actually interested in the opportunity. That has not stopped or dampened the number of recruiters I get reaching out to me on a weekly basis, so I am guessing this is probably the general case.

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#recruiting #changing jobs #getting a job in the game industry #The Hiring Process #Working in the game industry

[avwrites4ever]

Fantasy Setting Idea - Classic Japan (Heian Period)

It’s a New Year! And what better way to start it off than gush about something I love! I hope you will enjoy it too, and get excited, because I’m bursting with ideas!

I’ve even gushed about this to people at my work, the poor things. That’s how excited I am.

I just love discovering new writing ideas and hoping someone will do something wonderful with them. It doesn’t have to be me. Just someone.

So.

The Heian Period.

Also known as the Golden Age of Japan.

I think it’d make a fascinating base for a fantasy setting. So would ancient Korea, if the movie Ramage taught me anything.

*NOTE: This isn’t a history lesson. I’m just examining broad strokes of certain elements of culture & setting which I think would lend themselves to a fascinating fantasy story.

(Although there is a History of Japan in 5 minutes video at the end.)

Fun Fact:

The Tale of Genji, written during this time period, is probably

the world’s 1st novel.

The 1st novel. Ever.

Written by a court lady in Heian Japan, no less. She is known as Murasaki Shikibu, but that’s a nickname (her real name is unknown.)

Chiefly, I’ll quote from Royall Tyler’s intro to his translation of The Tale of Genji.

And if I can find my copy of The Pillow Book, written by Sei Shonagon, I’ll include that too. (Please don’t confuse with the film of the same name, which is not the same AT ALL.)

Here’s a summary of The Pillow Book:

http://cup.columbia.edu/book/the-pillow-book-of-sei-shnagon/9780231073370

*Not sure if this is the best translation, I just like the summary.

*Note: Translations are tricky, & often if you don’t like a translated text, it might be because the translation is bad, and not actually the fault of the original work! Please keep that in mind while reading.

The Tale of Genji & The Pillow Book are both primary sources, by the way, meaning they were written by people who were actually living in the Heian Period!

(And both ladies were rivals of each other, which I find hilarious, considering I like both of their works.)

They’re not dry & boring either. Far from it. (I mean obviously, or I wouldn’t recommend them.)

I recommend The Pillow Book first. If you have a good translation, while reading, you’ll learn about how life was during the time, which will make reading The Tale of Genji easier since, being a novel, Genji assumes you live in the Heian Period and so know all about it (the inside jokes, the word play, the burns, everything.)

I also find Sei Shonagon a fascinating person. Very funny & clever. She journals like I do, only less randomly. She’s very interested in the world around her & all its funny, heartwarming, or baffling moments.

If not for the barriers of time & language which, funny enough, translation has more or less broken, I feel as we’d have some great conversations.

I love how real people in history are both very relatable & very different from us.

I mention these 2 because it was chiefly while reading the intro to Royall’s translation of Genji that I got the idea for this post. Though I was already fascinated by Heian Japan while reading The Pillow Book.

Though, if anyone is interested, I first became intrigued by Japan’s history while reading Rurouni Kenshin. Considering it’s a manga, consisting of pictures & text, you might start there.

(Though Rurouni Kenshin is set shortly after the Meji Restoration, which I believe is something like the start of Japan’s modern period, since samurai are in decline. But don’t quote me, I could be wrong.)

Anyway.

Also, Tumblr apparently doesn’t know what the Heian Period is, so few pictures here will be actually of the Heian Period, and doubtful if they’re accurate.

Actually, I’m using this as an excuse to put in pictures of Toshiro Mifune & old Japanese black & white films & pretty landscapes & cats & anime, because I can.

So! What about Heian Japan so intrigues my writerly brain?

Lots of things, naturally,

Certainly a fantasy world based around the Heian Period will be different from your typical western Medieval-esque fantasy settings which are so popular.

Yes, I’m brilliant, no one would ever have guessed that.

(Though speaking of Medieval-esque fantasy research has taught me those, such as Game of Thrones, to give a popular example, are actually closer to reflecting the Early Modern Period.)

See this link for better argument by someone more researched than me:

https://acoup.blog/2019/05/28/new-acquisitions-not-how-it-was-game-of-thrones-and-the-middle-ages-part-i/

https://acoup.blog/2020/12/04/collections-that-dothraki-horde-part-i-barbarian-couture/

I mean yes, I was surprised too that a person who claims to do their research apparently hasn’t, but here we are.

Speaking of which, take everything I say with a grain of salt, because I know nothing. Nothing!

By which I mean, I am not an expert about the Heian Period, or even Japanese history. For example, a lot of what I’m talking about will involve the perspective of court nobles & rich people, since those were both the characters in the primary sources & were what the authors were themselves.

I’d love to read a story where the main characters & people involved are peasants in the Heian Period. (And who stay peasants, & aren’t secretly royal or noble.)

I’m only suggesting this as a way to expand your mind beyond fantasy settings which have been done before.

I hope too that I’m not advocating cultural appropriation either (an easy trap to fall into.) If you think I am, let me know!

Now that’s all out of the way, here’s some specifics about what I love about the Heian Period:

It’s a Hidden & Secret World Insubstantial as a Dream, Structured by Social Manners & Rank

What struck me right away while reading The Pillow Book & The Tale of Genji is how closed their worlds are. Noble women especially lived in a world of curtains, panels, blinds, and  paper, silk, or bamboo screens, and walled gardens. People speak to each other not only through these divides, but also through messengers / servants.

What connects all these things are how fragile they are.

As Royall writes in his introduction to The Tale of Genji, even in courtship, (pg. xix):

“He cannot see her, and he may have no idea what she looks like. He will not normally see her even if she speaks to him in her own voice, since she will still be in another room, behind a blind and a curtain, and the curtain will remain even if she allows him into the room where she is.”

Seeing another person is very intimate. This makes it very easy to build up mystery and intrigue of a person before you actually meet them. Catching a glimpse of them or a snatch of their voice, or the hem of a sleeve from under a screen can be electrifying. Especially of a gentleman to a lady, or vice versa, because of all those blinds and screens and so forth. Royall mentions this in the introduction to his translation of The Tale of Genji. 

“If he then takes it upon himself to brush her curtain aside and go straight to her, he will by that gesture alone have claimed something close to the final intimacy.” (Introduction, pg. xix.)

What prevents him, of course, is a combination of good manners & reputation. Royall writes, “Good manners maintained a proper distance, which amounted to unholding the accepted social order.” Loss of reputation could mean loss of friends and entertainment and wealth, even exile. Having other people to talk to or play games or music with was essential.

Introducing ghosts, shape-shifters, and uncertain magic to such a setting is only to be expected. (There is a ghost in The Tale of Genji.) 

Also note that then & now personal names were seldom used, & especially not in public unless by someone intimate with you (such as a family member or old friend) or the person was extremely rude. Instead, people were referred to by their rank and title or last name, or even the place where they came from. Some were even referred to by a number, for example, First Princess (Onna Ichi no Miya.)

Notes or letters were vital within such a formal social structure. Even more vital than text messages are today. For in notes, especially poetry, someone could speak from the heart. So much that even the type of paper used was important. For example, most romantic notes were written on thin, colored paper, often kept in the front fold of a robe. They could also be scented and contain a branch from a tree or flowers.

And of course, clever word play and innuendos were all the rage. People were also expected to memorize poetry, and judged if their poetry or writing wasn’t up to standard.

Anyone who loves words would excel here. Think of all the possibilities! Secret lover’s notes, inside jokes between friends, sick burns between enemies or rivals. Plots to overthrow the Emperor could happen in plain sight. Throw some curses and magic to the mix and see what happens. Having some sort of mystery would also work well.

Hope you enjoyed this & makes you excited about creating a unique, rich, fascinating fantasy world.

Or really any part of Japan’s history, which roughly goes like this:

Obviously, if any of this intrigues you, & you want to use Classic Japan as a setting, you’ll need to do research. And I mean it. Or I will hunt down some rusty spoons.

I’m serious though. The reason why I’m writing this post is, hopefully, other people can also learn about Heian Japan, or more of Japan’s rich, beautiful, bloody history. Share the wonder with others, so the wonder won’t be lost or forgotten.

And in doing so, discover the wonder at being able to laugh at jokes made by someone who doesn’t even speak the same language as you, doesn’t even live in the same time or place . . .

It’s truly amazing. People are more alike than we know. And amazingly different. Reading manga & learning about Japan (and other countries) has been & is such a glorious experience. I understand myself & other people better.

It’s opened up the world.

#story ideas #the tale of genji #japan #fantasy #think about it #writing