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#and the glass caravel is just the name I gave
skyeventide · 3 years
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four Silm ficlets for the SWG instadrabbling event (click on the list links for the picture prompts)
the Prince of Alqualondë and jellyfish
Curufin and Celebrimbor camping north of Formenos
Celegorm, with Finrod, discovering walking fish
two men, Third age, discovering old quay ruins
1.
The young Ñoldo is lying on the pearly sand, writhing in pain, her dark hair strewn wet across her back like running ink; her two friends kneel beside her with large helpless eyes that lift to Elulindo as he treads through the white dunes of the shore.
« Prince! », they call at once. « Prince, come! »
« Show me », he says, bending next to them, a hand on the shoulder on the girl. As she turns to her side, reluctantly letting go of her stomach and twitching legs, Elulindo spots long rope-like signs marking her skin beaded with seawater. Wrapped around her belly and her thighs, all over her hands.
He exhales, with some kind of relief. « You mustn't worry », he says, with a smile. « She met a glass caravel. »
« A monster! », the grimacing girl protests. « 'Tis painful! »
Elulindo smirks. « It will pass soon. It gave you a handshake -- think of it as the one relative who pats your back and pinches your cheeks a little too hard. »
The girl whines, but one of her friends swiftly places a hand on her arm, squeezing encouragingly, even as her expression changes with dramatic emphasis. « Your aunt is a jellyfish? »
2.
Formenos is high up north; not Araman, not quite, and yet not the gentle and mild regions of central Aman either.
Formenos and its surrounding lands feel colder, and Tyelperinquar is certain the perception of his spirit is to blame, rather than the fortress or its holdings being at fault.
His arms crossed, he gazes at the sky, here where the silver lights are distant, the stars clearer, and the trails of the gowns of Varda's Maiar shine opalescent for hours in the dark, after the sky-spirits have gone. « Have we ever tried to harness those? »
« Not I », his father answers, stoking the campfire.
« Maybe we ought. »
« I doubt it is possible. They fade too soon, too transient. They are but ghosts of the Music. »
Tyelperinquar turns his eyes from the greens and yellows and blues and iridescent pinks. « It might well only take a very quick hand. »
His father isn't smiling, his lips are pressed down in a tight line. In fact, his father isn't even looking at him at all, taken by whatever sudden displeasure. « It might. »
3.
« Cousin », Celegorm declares, marching into the study, his tone of voice that of someone who's holding in an enquiry and is not yet voicing it.
« Yes...? », Finrod asks, somewhat cautiously.
Celegorm grabs one of the carven chairs for himself and sits on it (sprawls on it would be more correct), his brow knitted with something like bewilderment. « You have seen fishes your life, yes? », he asks, rhetorically.
Finrod blinks, setting down his quill and giving him his full attention. « ...Yes, of course I have. »
« And you have seen snakes? Frogs? Or other animals that climb trees and jump or slither in muds and shallow water? »
« Yes... »
« Wonderful. How about fishes that climb on trees? »
Finrod blinks. « I am unsure that is a real thing. Turco, are you making fun of me? »
Celegorm laughs in that grinding-glass way of his, shaking his head, and plunges his hand in the somewhat damp satchel hanging from his waist. « Then what in the Void is this? Because it was by the mangroves where the river splits among their roots. Climbing them.»
He slaps a fish on the table. Finrod stares at it, feeling as if the thing and its very, very bulgy eyes are staring at him right back.
4.
Weeds and ivy and bramble have grown over the long wall and great archway entrance, the structures of stone underneath showing through, long-abandoned remainder of what once was. An unexpected history emerging from the sea of grass, at the edges of the woods.
« It looks like it was a quay », Anwarher says, his voice echoing wetly in the humidity of the under-arch. « The oldest maps I studied mark this area as touched by the sea. »
« Sad, isn't it? », Gellamgir says, loosening the pull to his bowstring. « Seeing your ancestors' work fall to ruin. »
Anwarher turns to his fellow scout with a raised brow. « This is Númenórean architecture. »
« And? »
« We don't descend from Númenóreans. »
« Everyone descends from Númenóreans, Anwarher. »
« That is not how it works. For one, we'd be much taller. »
Gellamgir rolls his eyes and carefully glances beyond the arch. Anwarher observes his friend as he gazes silently at the curving structure, devoured almost entirely by vegetation. « Still », he says quietly. « I think I understand how the elves feel, now. »
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A Simple review of Caraval
I have been meaning to do this for a while and I was hoping that by writing my thoughts down first, it might stop me from making a shitty youtube video about it. Now, I’ve read a tone of Teen-Fiction and I don’t regret it. At this point, I think I can spot a bad YA novel vs a good one. The book I want to review is called Caraval. I feel, slightly bad about this. My mom had gotten the book for me, because she thought I would enjoy it, I did, just for all of the wrong reasons.
Plot
This book is set in a fantasy world,where an event called Caravel is held on some island once every year by a man named Legend. Who is said to be mysterious and magical. Yes, this is that book. In this event, there is a game, kind of like a treasure hunt, I guess. You can participate or if your smart you can watch and enjoy the magical world of Disney- I mean Caraval. You can shop with your significant other who really doesn't want to be there as much as the rest of the staff.
Our main character is a girl named Scarlett who lives with her sister Donatella and her abusive father. Infatuated by Caraval, Scarlett writes letters every year to the head man, Legend, a complete stranger, who probably doesn't give a shit about her, while receiving love letters from her fiancé, another stranger who probably doesn’t give a shit. One day she fines her younger sister getting down with some other stranger who happens to be some kind of hot sailor. In this time, she also get’s her one way ticket to Caraval, as a special guest of course. That night both girls are whisked away with Sailor Fuck-Boy, aka Julien, we know his name now so its fine to travel with him. Scarlett is surprised to find that when they arrive at the island, her sister is gone, and it turns out, the game this year is to find Donatella.
Thoughts
So, the book does a great job at capturing it’s audience. I was very surprised and delighted to find out Scarlett’s ditzy sister had been the center of the game.  What else is more, rumor has it that someone died the year before, so it did feel erie.  However, there were many issues, that actually got me laughing, and cringing, that probably makes this book one of the greatest comedies of 2017. Which I’m sure was not the author’s intent.
The Characters
If you are looking for shallow characters, well my friend, you came to the right place. Our main character Scarlett, is not the sharpest tool in the shed. She is the type of character to dream of adventure and then regret’s it once she gets it. She also has been locked up most of her life with little knowledge of the outside world, making Caraval even more stressing. So the problem really isn’t the character herself, I don’t mind the lead having a weakness. She just didn't seem like the right character for this book. Caraval, presents it’s self as a mystery, not really an adventure. We needed a Sherlock Holmes or Nancy Drew, not Alice in Fan-Service-Land.
Julien of course, is basic. You know Plank from Ed, Edd, and Eddy? Well, if I had a Plank award, and I could give that to any character, it’d be this guy. He really is a piece of ply wood, and the only thing he’s good for is taking off his shirt. I had a prediction, that maybe, he was this famous Legend himself, even the main character was skeptical, but alas he wasn’t. That actually would have made things a bit more interesting, Scarlett would have escaped one prison with her father, then end up in another one with plank boy.  
Her sister was not really a huge part of the story, but with the small bits of information we were given, I wonder even why Scarlett was trying so hard. You should have left her on the island!
Last character worth mentioning is the Father. Apparently he was not always abusive, he only became that way when his wife left him. And his form of abuse is to beat or punish one of the sisters so that the other sister feels guilty….? Little information is given to why the mom left or why this would even trigger a guy.  I can see him locking both of the girls away, but definitely not going to this extreme. Why did I read this again?
The writing
If you thought the characters, were bad get a load of this.
“Death is the color purple. purple wall paper, purple temperatures…”
or how about this.
“He taste like the middle of the night.”
What are purple temperature supposed to be like? Of course you would assume it would be cold, but normally blue is the image you would understand more right? How about middle of the night? You know that kid in English class who would sprinkle in so many unnecessary details that you weren’t sure what you were reading any more? Or how about the one that wouldn’t write enough? Somehow, this book, does both. I know what the author is trying to do. My mom gave me the book so that I can enjoy that aspect as well. However, it wasn’t done correctly.The author tried to be too artistic without really thinking about what she was putting down. Most of these things are not tangible to the human mind, it’s one thing to be poetic, but it’s another to slop in pointless detail. I know I said I liked the plot, but things didn’t exactly pan out how I wanted. The author had the right idea at the beginning, but things, somehow manage to become sticky by the end. I’m not going to spoil anything, because not only do I encourage people to read this lovely book but because quite frankly, I don’t even know if I could explain it.  So, let’s picture this instead. You wake in the morning thanks to that scorching ball in the sky, not the sun, you know, that other scorching ball. You sluggishly make your way down stairs, following the greasy smell of bacon you find your lovely family seated at the table. Your mom gestures  to an open seat and you begin diving into the burnt pancakes that you thought was bacon. However, you stop and notice your family passing each other looks of unease.
“What?” You ask,shoveling food into your pudgy face.
“Well it’s just…” Your mother begins. She places a shaky hand on your father’s arm.
“I’m sorry, I’m not your mom, I’m your dad,” She says. Your dad nods his head in agreement. He picks up is drinking glass and knocks it in the air, almost as though he is cheering to another invisible glass.
“And I am not your dad I am your mom.” Sitting there confused you stare straight at the sister that you suddenly forgot you had.
“I am not, your sister…I’m actually a toaster oven.”
Your eyes move to your plate as your sister slowly melts back into her original form. You notice your plate is empty, the not-bacon-pancakes are gone. You look up, now your family is gone, besides your sister who is currently cooking pizza bites in her metallic mouth. It was then,You come to a sudden realization, one that you have been ignoring for 15 years.
“I think I drowned in the tub when I was four.”
Confused? Indeed! That, was basically Caraval’s ending. There were so many plot twists, that just didn’t even need to be there. And it’s not like Scarlett discovered any of this her self. It was all just handed to you all at once. Plot twists are beautiful, and if done right, it could have saved this book, but no. It seems like author had so many ideas for the ending, instead of editing them out, she just kept them all in. All of them. Now, I don’t believe anyone has bad taste, in fact anyone who is considered to have good taste is only good to a select few people. People are going to like what they like. I can’t stop them. If you wanna read this book? go ahead! You might have the same amount of fun that I had. It’s pure YA. Lead is female, there is pointless romance, a taste of world building and an almost enticing plot. I Just think the author tried a bit too hard. I don’t blame the author though. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to try to write a novel you so believe in and then have an asshat like me tear it down and laugh at it. I blame the people, the publishers, the editors, etc, for being the ones who allowed this book to come into being. Basically, if you see a friend writing a shitty novel, either tell them to stop, give them better idea, or let the world burn.
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libidomechanica · 6 years
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How I know I love you more than the dusk alone
I think they can’t wash in hot watery glass of this with oxygen. You don’t know somewhere but i just don’t know somewhere, maybe not. A heartfelt prayer for that thy secret we met
In silence I grieve That won you turn around so i can heart. A thousand finger tips;    And one was blue with him To whom a hyacinths. It is June.
And caught your head and hands. Near and far, near and far, near and when she says, “We’re talking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the kindred of being held, but instead you grow wooden and won him after scrubbing flowers, fragrant-eyed,              Too, too late for that. But neither breath of Morn when you’ve told her heart asleep and very warm. On nights and mirror
of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel staving its hull against all that is not my name.” This flea’s death once more. That kiosk at the pane, the waiting for another nine times. ‘O look, look in your meeting me, If brightest!
Electrons, so that when Noon is on the painter gave gigantic proportion to sulphurous god rimmed clouds lightning light. I heard the hunter tell;’ ‘Tis but this flea’s death once more. ‘T Sanforized?’’
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