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insipid-drivel · 10 days

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Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

#horses #horseback riding #writing #writing tips #long post

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clockways · 1 year

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I love tumblr, seriously. The vibes of this site are unlike anywhere else.

We get polls and *immediately* make games out of them. We take something so simple and our first response is “how can we use this for fun and chaos”. And it’s not just a flippant thing. We get invested.

We’re ride or die for bug races.

We have a whole new vanilla extract meme that no other social media would understand.

We’re now combining it with our unique tagging system.

Like, my darlings, do you understand how special this is? If I was tenure track I could write a whole paper about this both on gamification and community play but also on social media structures. It would be a banger. And it would be so hard to make it accessible to a wider audience. The *history* you would need to try and cover. But my would it be a great paper topic.

#idk #maybe over summer I actually will #but I'm so rusty at paper writing #as a non tenure prof

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faggot-greg-house · 3 months

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house is autistic i will accept no criticism

i have so many thoughts about house and autism. this might be the most unhinged post on my tumblr yet but here we go so house had the illusion of normalcy forced on him from a young age. i dont think thats like, full canon, but house talks about how his father abused him on more than one occassion and talked about how he was never satisfied or happy with house no matter what. so i truly dont think its a far reach to say that he would not have tolerated a "weird child." the thing that i think, though, is that all of his actions are a response to the fact that he's not particularly great at masking. he's afraid if he lets people close to him he won't be able to hide the fact that he's "weird" (aka bad). he intentionally pushes people away with his weird creepy comments and being an asshole and that's both him masking (if he's aggressively mean all the time no one will bother to look further) and a way of coping with the fact that he cant mask. the more he pushes people away the less likely it is that they'll see that he cares about things and that he's not "normal" like he's always been told. i also think that as the show went on, he got less and less concerned about masking. he constantly stims, he hyperfocuses and burns out, he panics about change, he treats his fellows a lot more like family. once he got to a point in his life where his "weirdness" is not something he can be ruined for (he's tenured and he has people who will fight for him) he found himself a lot more able to be aggressively autistic, even if he struggles with it due to trauma.

a huge Autism Moment in the show for me is when foreman quits and house fires chase. house has been afraid his whole life of showing who he actually is, as mentioned. his fellows, though, are his People, they knew all of his shit and they never ran awayy from it. they didnt question who he was and what he knew, only his methods, and they were willing to fight back against him (something he's shown he loves). but then foreman quits because he "doesnt want to be like house" and this is house's worst nightmare. this is exactly why he had normalcy beaten into him, because being weird only makes it that people will run away once they know you. he dared to let people see a bit of who he actually is and how he thinks and acts and foreman essentially said "i cant stand to be like you." on top of that fear, his team became Different. he doesnt know if chase or cameron thought the same things as foreman, if they were also judging him or hating him for being autistic. it sent him into fucking panic mode because how is he supposed to trust them when he doesnt know if they agree with foreman!!!!! and even if he could, the team is Different and its for a reason he cant control and he cant just go back to normal. his method of interviewing his new fellows also shows this - how is he supposed to be able to tell if someone will be okay with who he is and if they'll work well together based off a short intervew where he's almost certainly masking the whole time???? anyway. to end this absolutely unhinged post ive put together an inconclusive list of autistic traits and actions from house, and i want to say that so much of this is him being written off as an antisocial eccentric genius and, while he is an ass that cant be debated, it clearly runs deeper than that!!!!

he doesnt understand how ppl feel (he repeatedly talks about how small talk is like a guessing game for him and he doesnt know what to say)

he doesnt like to be touched (for a lot of the show people just do Not touch him, wilson excluded)

he stims constantly and he needs Sensations

he's blunt, rude, somewhat monotone, etc

he has a hard time making friends

he has a hard time saying what he feels (he'd rather joke or be mean than analyse his emotions)

he has a routine that he Sticks To (even thgh its not exactly the same because of patients etc, he goes to work late, he talks to the same people, he sits in his same office. he's shown coming to work sick at one point and he doesnt rly go on vacation. plus when cuddy took his bloodstained carpet it was such a fundamental change to his life that he couldnt deal)

he notices Everything (yes ik this is a sherlock holmes thing but consider sherlock holmes - also autistic)

he has a method and train of thought that works for him and he is unwilling to break from it (he's shown at least once stopping the fellows from writing on his whiteboard, and after he loses the og three he continues trying to hold ddx's because its how he Thinks)

#hate crimes md #house md #gregory house #james wilson #child abuse #wrote all of this first in a discord channel so if it looks absolutely unhinged that's why #also im autistic and if you disagree with me thats ableist #autistic greg house #my thoughts

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beyondthisdarkhouse · 2 years

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Watching Dracula Daily fandom on Tumblr is really funny because if you know who's who you see people who are like, extremely well-schooled on literary analysis, sometimes noted scholars in the field, caaaarefully phrasing long-established academic theories (boring and off-putting) as ~pithy hot takes~ so they'll go viral.

Not as a plagiarism thing; as a public outreach thing. Trying to get people just a little bit interested in these ideas. Introducing everyone to specialized concepts like "close reading".

It's like a live crowdsourced undergraduate English Lit class they're trying to coax everyone into passing. The type with midterm test questions like, "Do you think Dracula is an Orientalist text? 500 words. Please cite at least two textual examples."

(And by "know who's who" I mean: If you spend time in acafan (academic + fandom) circles, like convention panels or private online spaces, people will sometimes let you know their professional and fannish identities, because there is a strong agreement not to dox people in public spaces like Tumblr. It's really hard to get a good job in academia, and shit like "this candidate writes dumb gay fanfiction about blorbo and we, the committee, think that it's cringe" can be the deciding factor between you and lifelong job security. Most out acafans I know have given up hope of a university keeping them on staff, or have gotten tenure and don't have to worry anymore.)

#dracula daily

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askagamedev · 8 months

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a lot of people are probably asking you this, but if they aren't... do you have any clue what's going on with bioware? first moving swtor to another studio, which seems like it can be both a good or a bad thing, and now they're laying off 50 more people? studio veterans included?

this just seems like a very weird move to me, if not outright shitty. i want to believe in bioware, i love their games, no matter how flawed they are, but in the three years i've been familiar with them, things seem to be getting worse and worse. i know that DAD is in alpha so probably this layoff won't affect its quality too much, but again, that looks like a terrible move towards the employees themselves and the studio's more distant future.

Bioware is basically following the publisher mandate. In March of this year, EA declared that they were going to cut roughly 6% of their workforce (~800 layoffs) to lower costs, likely because they (like many tech companies) over-hired during the pandemic and need to correct the burn rate to appease their shareholders. These 50 devs being cut are Bioware's unfortunate sacrifice to the layoff declaration. As to whom and why, I suspect it is a combination of things.

Bioware probably had some kind of incubation team working on a secret new project that wasn't a sequel to an existing current franchise. I know that they would often have one or two such teams going at any given time - Anthem was one such project, as was the short-lived Shadow Realms project. New projects like that are much riskier than franchise sequels, so it is likely that the publisher decided that the risk moving forward was too high and they cancelled the experimental projects in favor of focusing on their established brands (Mass Effect and Dragon Age).

It is also likely that some of the long-term veterans are quite expensive to keep - they have high salaries and have been around long enough to collect on many of the big benefits EA offers, like sabbatical leave and the like. There's also the real possibility that there could be some bad blood or major creative differences between the current studio leadership and some of those veterans that were let go.

My heart goes out to those affected and I really do hope they land on their feet. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that employers never deserve any more loyalty than they're willing to give their employees. The employer will never choose an employee over its own survival, so we as workers should expect to do the same for ourselves. I never consider long tenure at an employer to be worth much when it comes to the business decisions, because I know how little it is worth when all is said and done. Business gonna business.

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#the business of video games #financial things #layoffs #warts and all #working in the game industry

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terrorizings · 15 days

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hey i just fell down one of the most bizarre rabbit holes i’ve ever fallen down that began with a tiktok ai reading an r/amitheasshole reddit post and ended with whatever this puppet sex homestuck arg (?) was. Having spent the last two full hours absolutely enraptured with this series of blogs, i was wondering if anyone involved in this bro strider muppet nonsense knows @the-muppet-joker or who’s behind that account, or if he’s just an unrelated guy that just so happened to frequently reblog and interact with the 6 of you guys. I have significant reason to believe that blog is another elaborate bit (as it’s the reason i got here) so it would be really fucking funny if whoever runs that account (be they genuine or not) just so happened to stumble upon your shitposts while searching for horny muppet posts and started reblogging then. either way props to you for doing all of this and good luck on whatever daisy brown alantutorial shit you wind up making next because you are all definitely going places. sending this ask to all of you individually btw.

I think I may have been the first of the blogs to get interacted with by the muppet joker, as I received an ask from him relatively early into my blogs tenure and simply let it steep until the other folk started hitting his line and interacting with him. That being said!

No fucking clue who that dude is.

I assumed it was all a very elaborate bit since it's all within the same realm of internet-referencing (particularly, tumblr related internet-referencing in the realm of making wide gestures towards things like tumblr sexymen and error sans from error(??) undertale) bullhockey as every ambitious blog parodying weird fetishes. In combination with his interests being specifically two bastions of internet memes, the joker and kermit the frog, I think he's just a guy who's really committed to the bit.

That also being said.

I got an ask saying he'd gone crazy and was actually doing crazy shit, so. I don't know! Maybe he is just a genuine guy. But I sure don't know who he is and he sure didn't have anything to do with my stuff.

#thank u tho!! for the compliments and whatnot its all very sweet #i wish i had answers tbh i didnt even know he had a reddit aita until today #would love to see it #i mean #i knew i escaped containment into his hater fanbase bc i got asks and replies mistaking me for him #where ppl would accuse me of fucking kermit plushes #but i think they might be people who consider him legitimate

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homochadensistm · 3 months

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Hi,

My apologies if you've answered this before (yay tumblr search), but I'm curious about an aspect of your job.

I've always heard that it's incredibly difficult to get a job in archaeology because pretty much the only employers are universities and the government, and that actual fieldwork positions are insanely rare. I (embarrassingly) honestly thought jobs like yours had died out (the walking around & trying to find historical sites).

So my question is - are you employed by a private company or sth government funded/in academia? I imagine there's few better regions for archaeology than the levant, but does that make it a profitable industry?

(Love your blog btw, ur one of my favourite people on here bc your vibes are just off-the-charts based)

The answer highly depends on which country you're talking about! Everything I saw here applies to israel.

Generally speaking, in most countries (to my knowledge), employment in archaeology is either through the government, private companies, or the university, the uni being what we like to call "couch archaeology" (barely any fieldwork, writing papers). In Israel the law states that you cannot build anything that requires digging without the presence of an archaeologist and a permit from the government, which is why the vast majority of archaeological work is done by the Antiquities Authority, which is also the supervisory body of said work. Private companies can compete for projects that the Authority outsources, but the work they offer is seasonal, while the Authority provides work all year round. Universities also dig but they dig sites that "belong" to the uni and excavations are usually very short (1 month seasons usually).

The most varied type of work is done in the Authority because of its status as an official govt body that is in charge of all things archaeology. Work ranges from managing excavations, surveying, overseeing real estate projects, investigating and preventing antiquity theft and black market stuff, and ofc writing and publishing articles (the law also states you must publish everything you excavate). Unis and private companies also do that to a degree (minus the stuff requiring legal authority like overseeing real estate stuff and robbery investigation) but again, minimally and seasonally. Not gonna say where I specifically work but I'm sure u can figure it out :^)

Getting a job in uni is extremely difficult because tenure track positions are scarce abd competition is fierce. Getting a job in a private company is easy because they're seasonal. Getting a job in the Authority is also relatively easy because there's A LOT of work to do and not enough ppl to do it. Finding work as an archaeologist in Israel is really not very difficult and I personally know a double digit number of foreigners who came to israel to work as archaeologists. Now, is it profitable? Eh. Neither uni nor the govt/private companies pay super well, but it's enough for me to stay alive, have hobbies and travel abroad once in a while. Actually, i think the biggest lifehack of this type of work is traveling abroad for free for conferences tbh (both uni and the govt will send u on those) because b4 the war I'd go abroad at least twice a year to give lectures on someone else's dime lmao.

Hope this helps!

#israel #archaeology

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roseworth · 2 months

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hi tumblr user roseworth im desperately trying to figure out how old rose and eddie were by the end of their tenures in tt03 / how long they knew each other and it is... difficult especially because sooo much happened dc-event-wise during tt03. do you have any canon sources or noncanon thoughts on their ages beyond eddie being 17 in part of tt03 and rose being 14(?) when lilli dies ^_^

hiiiiii <3 unfortunately i dont have a great answer for this bc. comic timelines. but ill do my very best

so for rose the only time we get anything about her age in tt03 is in issue #0.5 (when she gets taken by slade) when it says that lili and slade met 18 years ago

so i assume that makes rose ~17 when she join slade (since lili would've been pregnant for 9 months after this)

we also get this panel saying that lili died 18 months before rose joins slade, putting her at around 15 or 16 when lili dies. iirc she was 14 when wintergreen sees her for the first time, so we can assume a year went by between wintergreen meeting lili and lili's death (if tt03 is to be believed! but deathstroke 1991 (annual #4) mentions that shes 14 when her mom dies)

anyways this also means that roy hired her as a live-in nanny when she was 16 years old which is really funny to me. but none of that matters; point is she was 17ish at the start of tt03

this is just my personal headcanon but i assume that the time between titans/yj graduation day -> infinite crisis is around a year, and if rose joins up with slade a little after graduation day then shes with him for just under a year

HOWEVER if we go by what slade says in nightwing #112, rose has only been with him for a few months

so based on that, rose is 17 (probably closer to 18) when she leaves slade

then infinite crisis happens and we skip to a year later! so shes 18/19 now. we dont get any specifics on her age but just for funsies we can assume that shes at least 18 since shes smoking and cyborg doesnt have a problem with it (he confiscates her alcohol but not her cigarettes), and the tobacco age in california in 2006 was 18

THEN it gets complicated. i dont have a source for this but i think theres supposed to be a year between oyl -> final crisis, making rose 19/20 by fresh hell (the secret reason she got kicked off the teen titans was because she wasnt a teen #adulthood)

also in fresh hell, she orders alcohol at a bar in canada (in the northwest territories where the drinking age is 19) so theoretically that makes her at least 19. though she never actually gets the drinks because she gets in a fight 2 seconds after this so she doesnt get carded so who knows!

from there. i dont have much. i assume that a full year doesnt go by from fresh hell to the end of the universe (if anyone knows how long bart & kon were dead for that might change things, but i assume we're not given any exact info on how long it was), so i would put rose at ~20 right before the new 52 happens!!

as for eddie, ill use the same tt03 timeline that i used for rose

like you mentioned, hes 17 in tt03 #42 (for reference rose is 18/19 at this time)

he didnt join the teen titans that long before this, we see him asking to join in 52 #51, which is like a week or two before tt03 #34 (the first tt issue after oyl) so its safe to assume that eddie is 17 when he joins the team

anyways after #42, i dont think we get any mention of his age? which is honestly kinda weird since his age is Very Important given that hes selling his soul to neron at 20. we should have an eddie's age tracker at all times

if we assume that hes 17 when he joins the teen titans and oyl -> final crisis is 1 year, then hes right around 18 or 19 when he dies

when he loses his powers then tries to make another contract to get them back in tt03 #68, kid eternity mentions that he'd have "a few years of superheroing," so him being 18 around this time makes sense

then he dies in #74 </3 no mention of his age anywhere but id say hes right around 18 when he dies

take all of this with a grain of salt bc a lot of this is just me making up timelines. but i personally think rose is 15 when her mom dies, 17 when slade takes her, 18 when she leaves slade, and 19 as of tt03 #34 (oyl). and eddie is 17 when he joins the team and 18 when he dies!

#hm.... a 19 year old (rose) talking to a 17 year old (eddie) ???? that age gap is kind of problematic dont you think #to me eddie & rose are that one post like #18 y/o with 'minors dni' in their bio vs 17 y/o with '18+ dni' in their bio #rose wilson #eddie bloomberg #dc #long post

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

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Hi, fellow English major here! Sorry if this is personal - are there any career paths you’d recommend? I’ve thought either journalism or academia (might do a masters for either!) though I’ve heard college teaching is now super precarious.

Well tumblr just ate everything I wrote. Grr.

This is a bit of a hard question to answer and it's really complicated, without knowing why you're into journalism or why you're considering teaching. I don't know a whole lot about these fields, but what I do know is that they both involve research, collaboration, writing, the day-to-day is different, and you have to be kinda peopley. If that sounds like you, then some other options to look into would be research, analysis, or librarianship.

Higher ed/college academia is...going through some things right now. (I've got friends in that world.) It's largely down to two things - one, culture wars and two, the demographic cliff. I don't want to discourage you from that if that's where your heart is, but it's going to be a difficult ride. Tenure isn't a guarantee anymore, you might have to move around more than you've expected, budgets are getting tighter and they're coming with a million more strings, and hiring is a bit stagnant. The message I hear from my higher ed friends is that if you want to go into higher ed or academia, you better make sure you're doing it for the passion, not the tenure or the paycheck.

And grad school. Only go if you're absolutely entirely 100% certain you need that master's to get the career you want. The economy being what it is, the interest rates being what they are, costs and fees being what they are, how fast and quickly certain fields are changing because of tech, I don't know that the value is there anymore if you're on the fence or you're doing it because it's what you're supposed to do. Grad school will still be there in a few years so you can always go back to school.

If you're open to a more broader perspective of the English major's postgrad experience and advice, then

In this essay I will give you a nonanswer answer in three parts:

What do you like about studying English? Why did you choose English in the first place?

It's not about the English lit. It's about the soft skills.

In the end, it doesn't actually even matter.

Colleges, universities, career offices, and departments really struggle with career advice and career planning. They only know what they know, right, so they have a tendency to promote the obvious career paths because that's what their experience is -- English majors go into academia, history majors go into museums, pre-med majors go into medicine, etc. However, that's just one option. I think it's harder for these folks to know what's really out there because they're just not familiar with it, and that's why they rely so much on their alumni to fill in the gaps but it still leaves students in the dark having to find their own way out. (I do think it's changing, though. My friends in higher ed said that there's a lot more focus "beyond the classroom" to prepare students for the real post-college life and more diverse careers.)

So let's get into it.

What do you like about studying English? What made you choose English in the first place?

Is it the reading? Do you like the debate and discussion? Is it the creative process? Do you like writing? Do you like the analysis? The research? If you narrow down why you like English, it can be super helpful finding "non-traditional" career paths.

For example:

If you like reading, then look at publishing or editing.

If it's the creativity or the creative process, then consider marketing or advertising.

If you like the discussions and debating plot points, maybe you're a lawyer.

If you like the community of book world, then maybe you're a bookseller or a librarian.

If you like writing and the writing process, definitely look into journalism, but there's also content editing, communications, technical writing, ghostwriting, food recipe writing, etc.

If you like analyzing literature, look into being an analyst.

If it's the research, go into research or research librarianship

And remember, these are just super broad and high-level career paths. Within each career field, there's a million different options to narrow it even further. Like librarians or writers or advertising.

It's not about the literature. It's about the soft skills.

Colleges and college students often think that the only career options they have are the ones that deal specifically in the hard skills their coursework studies - English majors become writers or teachers, history majors become historians, geography majors become geographers and mapmakers. But the reality is that the people who do exactly the work that their major studied are few and far between. Most of us end up with careers that have nothing to do with what we studied. For instance, in my friend group (there's about 9 of us) only one actually does the specialty he studied for - he has a physics degree and he does physicsy stuff for a lab. The rest of us are all over the place, like

the Chemistry major now does IT sales.

the Geography major is the International Studies director for a midsized university.

the French major is an accounts manager for a higher education consulting firm.

And it's all about the soft skills. Those are what set us up for success. Off the top of my head, these are the soft skills you're practicing in your English major coursework:

Reading and reading comprehension

Writing

Writing for different audiences (eg. you know Professor X is really into symbolism so your papers for his class will focus on symbolism, which is different from Professor Y who wants you to talk about literary theory, which is different from Professor Z who's obsessed with victorian panopticism so you know you need to include Foucault and -- shoot, that's my PTSD escaping.)

Analyzing different kinds of information and knowing the methods/tools (for instance, analyzing poetry is very different from analyzing scientific research)

Doing research (knowing how and where to find information)

Vetting sources

Speaking about and defending your work

Taking, incorporating, and giving feedback

Working on deadlines

Collaborating with people

Attention to detail

Organizing information

And guess what? This is the day-to-day work that all of us do in our careers. These are the tools necessary for success in pretty much anything: project/program/product management, sales, consulting, contracting, IT, business, HR.

So if you're having trouble finding work in a classically English field like journalism or academia or you can't figure out if you're qualified for a position, use these soft skills. If they show up in the description of duties/responsibilities, you're qualified! Apply! Don't focus too much on the job title or the company.

Take Kate for an example. Her degree is in art history, but she's never worked in a classical art history field - i.e., she's never worked in an art museum and she isn't having conversations on Remembrandt vs Van Gogh. But she is using her degree anyway - her attention to detail and her research skills means she shows up prepared every day, her knowledge of color theory means the photos she gives us of her family and their appearances are pleasing to look at, she can communicate easily to different audiences (eg outdoorsy clothes and casual attitude for Scouts vs coatdresses and formality for Westminster Abbey).

In the end, it doesn't actually even matter.

It really doesn't. Particularly for a humanities major, the more you lean into your soft skills, the easier it'll be to find a career path that works for you. Some examples...

If you like working with people, you love organizing things, and your attention to detail is *chefs kiss*, you might be a project manager and project managers are everywhere.

If you like writing, talking to people, and you're a planner, maybe you're a communications specialist or a speechwriter.

Maybe you like writing and you like doing research, but you don't want to go to grad school, look at becoming an acquisitions specialist or a contracting officer.

If you're into language and linguistics, maybe you're a book translator or an interpreter. (Just don't work with Omid Scobie!)

This is where I think college advisors struggle. They tell students to be open to possibility, but they don't tell you what possibility is. I remember going in for career advising and the conversation went something like this:

Me: I don't want to teach but I like writing and research. What can I do? Dr. S: You can do anything you want! Me: What does that mean? Dr. S: You don't have to teach! You can do whatever you want! Me: BUT WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN.

(Dr. S was later fired for drunk driving with students in the car so...she probably wasn't the best person for the department to appoint as the career advisor. Or Department Chair.)

It took me until about two years ago to realize what Dr. S meant by "you can do anything you want." She (and a lot of the people at my university) just didn't know how to explain what they meant. I think part of that is because "soft skills" wasn't really a thing a lot of people were talking about 10, 15 years ago outside a corporate environment, and it does seem to be changing now, and universities have begun teaching and showing students how to connect coursework, sports, clubs and student activities, and volunteering to soft skills and "business"-minded concepts.

Just be open to considering career paths that aren't traditionally lit-focused, like business or IT. It'll be the soft skills that set you apart and help you be successful, not how well you can you can argue symbolism or read seventeenth-century poetry or recite Shakespeare. Leave it for your hobbies.

So here's an example of what I mean by being open to other career paths. As I mentioned before, I do have a B.A. in English and my focus was modern American fiction. I went into college thinking that I'd be a writer or do something in movies - I was going to be either the American JK Rowling, the millennial Meg Cabot, or the female Aaron Sorkin. (Reader, I was not and will never be.)

But in reality, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I looked into publishing, high school teaching, college professorship, creative writing, scriptwriting, but nothing was panning out. Eventually I signed up for a summer internship program with the federal government (my parents were feds) thinking "at least I'll get my internship credit and know what NOT to do". The internship ended up being with a research library, I absolutely loved it, decided "this is it, I'm going to get my MSLIS and be a librarian and do research and write research papers forever!" (MSLIS is Master of Science in Library and Information Science). They invited me to come back again the next summer, which I accepted, and my dear amazing supervisor (let's call her "Marian") somehow convinced the bosses to pull me on full-time when the internship ended and to support my grad school coursework.

Went directly from undergrad to grad and hated it. 15 years ago was an interesting time in the library world; it was right when the field transitioning from information to data so it was less about working with research and more about organizing and using data. In effect, it was moving away from the world of books/information ("Englishy" type stuff) and moving fully into the realms of data and computer science. Not what I expected and for someone who was on the research librarian track, having to take classes on data analysis, computer science, website management, and HTML coding, it was torture. But that was where the industry was going so get on board or drop out. Meanwhile, the research library I was working in was also changing. We were changing from being a library and doing research to being a repository of databases and facilitating access to research. The bosses got wind that I was looking to jump ship and said:

"She's got a really weird brain full of really random stuff but ask her a question about something she looked up 3 years ago and she can remember exactly what it was, where she found the information, how it applied to whatever you need, and the exact notebook she wrote it down in. She knows how to get information from people so let's make her a sub-project manager on this new database tool with Bob to see if she's as good as Marian says she is and maybe we can steal her from the librarians because they're all retiring soon anyway." (I'm paraphrasing here but yes, they specifically wanted me because I have a crazy attention to detail.)

So I abandoned the librarians (they were all retiring anyway and were like two resignations away from reorganizing the department), went over to the IT side to become a project manager and one month into the project with Bob, Bob was in a horrible car accident, had a severe TBI, and ended up taking medical retirement because his recovery was going to be years long. (Bob's okay now. I had dinner with him last month.)

I did not get a new PM to shadow or partner with. I was left to do the whole thing on my own with a senior devops team who didn't like that a no-nothing 24 year old kid was in charge of them. But it all worked out in the end. I earned devops' loyalty, we had fun, we impressed the client, the bosses were happy and I found that I really liked project management and even better, I was really good at it. I did that for ten years, until one of the bosses who'd left about four years prior (and with whom I still kept in touch, who knew I didn't like the techy database stuff they kept pushing me into) said "psst, hey, come work for me" and I said "can I start tomorrow."

So very long story short, being open to possibilities is how I ended up a) working for the federal government, b) falling into IT and project management, and c) now doing policy analysis and program evaluation. I didn't even know English majors could do this kind of stuff 15 years ago. I thought you had to have business degrees for all this.

What I mean is you don't need to abandon your interests in journalism and academia. If that's what you want to do, you go girl (or guy or they) - all the English majors are here rooting for you. But if you're not sure, don't close yourself off from the non-traditional English career paths.

And also don't worry too much about it. You'll find what you were meant to do, whether you figure it out right now or it takes you 4 years and grad school or it takes you 10 years.

Maybe you do go into journalism, and it's not for you. Dust off your list of soft skills and polish your resume and go find your next step. Or maybe you go into academia, realize you don't like teaching, but hey, that job in Student Affairs looks interesting -- go for it! What have you got to lose?

You probably weren't expecting another literal essay on this, so my apologies for that. But in my defense, I did say it was a complicated question to answer!

Please, feel free to ask more questions! I promise to try to be less long-winded. (No guarantees, though.)

Also a tip about resumes. I am horrible at writing resumes but I found this incredible tool called Jobscan.co. You upload your resume and the job listing you're applying to, and then it compares them and flags things in your resume based on the job listing and suggests tips to improve. It's based on the same ATS optimization technology that real hiring managers use to screen their applicants.

#ask #college thoughts #in this essay i will #english majors #thus was born the spreadsheet nerd

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9w1ft · 7 months

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So I've been a Kaylor since 2015 but since Karlie came to the Eras tour I've been struggling with the idea of them presenting again to the public as just friends (and how much people seem to want that). I know I'm in the minority here and by minority I mean I think it's just me but to present to the world as just best friends again after so many years seems infantilizing almost, like another step back. To me bearding with Travis and putting Karlie on the map in her life as a best friend again is cut from the same cloth, like the same type of lies going in circles. It wouldn't be authenticity, just more of the same with different actors (I'm also struggling with interest in Taylor with how fake she seems with this whole Travis thing but it might be just performance art and I'm willing to fall for it I guess for the time being). So yeah I don't know how to feel about this anymore and i saw you give some pretty thoughtful answers here and that's why I sent this. Have a nice evening!

i was talking with a mutual about something related to this earlier today actually. i’m not saying everybody needs to think or is able to think the same way but to me, the draw of kaylor is that it’s a story about love enduring through extreme circumstances.

in recent years i’ve read more than one assertion that people who believe she is gay (umbrella term) should be focused on analyzing taylor’s work through a queer lens because a focus on taylor’s muses in interpreting her work is reductive, but i would argue can be somewhat of an inverse situation, at least from taylor’s perspective. because as i see it, her story with karlie spans ages and is the culmination of taylor’s struggles both to find true love and also in defining what she wants that relationship to be. it’s a story that spans multiple spheres… it’s politics, it’s civics, it’s fame, it’s business, it’s philosophy, and yes it’s also about identity. and i would argue that the specifics of their situations shape their story in a way that is meaningful and oh no i’ve gone on a tangent

i brought this up thought to tee myself up to say that, i think i may have engaged with the idea that taylor’s-coming-out-is-the-end-goal for some amount of time, particularly in the beginning of my tumblr tenure, but at some point i came to feel that the end goal for taylor is actually taylor finding true love. it’s what she’s tried for her whole life to put into words. and she found it, and she put it into words (it’s golden).

there can always be new milestones, and hopes to be placed in taylor to do something more, but i think that it’s important to recognize these hopes as our hopes for her, our priorities, our analyses.

and so let’s say that things stay on a certain trajectory and they appear to the public as friends with boyfriends and husbands. i think that there is a big difference between now and the mid 2010’s. because if by some stroke of good fortune or divine intervention, or the years of blood sweat and tears from her and her muse throughout the great war, has coalesced into taylor not only surviving but also settling down with the love of her life but also to have gone so far as to start a family? then she has already won. we too, have already won, if we choose to see it this way.

#there can be different win conditions i think

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mississpissi · 6 months

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Hello Tumblr user Mississpissi. My name is Timothy "Tim" Bigcommunist, but most of my friends call me George. I advice you do the same... or bad things may happen.

I am writing to apply for the position of I Am in Eskew mutual. I noticed on a previous "post" of mine (I have created many such "posts" over my tenure as a world wide web user) you commented using the tag feature that you, too, were a "Davidhead" (the official, accepted term for a fan of the podcast I Am in Eskew, so named after its titular character, one Mr. David Ward).

I believe I would be a good fit for the position of I Am in Esckew mutual due to my enjoyment of the podcast, muscular legs and magnetic personality. I will be arriving at your house shortly to begin my role.

Many Happy Returns Of The Day,

Steven Bigcommunist

Hi Phil!

It brings me great joy to hear from another “Davidhead”! I have looked over your application in great detail and I agree that you would be a great fit for the position (especially considering your muscular legs- that was a big factor to take into account)… however! As a rather avid “Davidhead”, I couldn’t help but notice that in paragraph 3 of your application, you spelt “Eskew” as “Esckew”. While I can hear your knocking at my front door, I will have to put you on the waitlist due to your obviously untrue commitment to David Ward and the podcast “I Am in Eskew”. I hope you can understand! Have a fantastic day, I will be in touch if anything changes!

Best Regards,

Sarah “Miss Piss” Mississpissi

#eskew #davidhead

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trope-appreciation-tuesdays · 2 years

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My dearest Tumblr Friends,

I’ve been putting this off for far too long, so here goes.

I’m not sure how many of you may know this, but TAT has been around since 2017. 2017! Can you believe it? That’s five years. Five years, 260 weeks, and over 13,000 posts, to be exact, and I’ve been around for every single one of those 5 years, 260 weeks, and 13,000 posts.

I know the issues I went away for a bit to ponder are polarizing with many a strong opinion on all sides, but I think we can all agree that 5 years is a very long time. A lot can change in five years: a community, for one, and a blogger for sure. I am certainly not the same person I was 5 years ago, and I think that fact is starting to show. My personal squicks and triggers were beginning to interfere with my ability to run this event as the open and honest space it deserves to be.

That being said, it is with a heavy and yet relieved heart that I am announcing my retirement as the custodian/moderator of TAT.

I do want to make one thing perfectly clear to anyone who may feel this is not the right decision to make. Stepping down as moderator of TAT isn’t about me cowing to anon hate or the discourse in the community previous events generated. This is about me, the person who runs this blog, who is ready to hand the reins over to someone else after 5 years at the helm of an incredible project that was imagined up by a fellow whumper. An event that was entrusted to me 5 years ago and transformed into one of the longest running and, if I may be so bold, one of the most popular events in the community.

What it all boils down to is that I am ready to move on. I’m ready to focus on other things like my writing (I want to try my hand at writing a novel!) and gifmaking. I want to take a step back, hang up my spurs, tuck up beside the fire and enjoy the fruits of the community I’ve helped build. I want to retire.

One thing has become very clear to me over the course of the last year or so, and friends have even pointed this out to me on more than one occasion. I haven’t been happy running TAT for a while now. In the words of Marie Condo, it no longer sparks joy. I was canceling the event more and more and you guys deserve better. TAT deserves better. It deserves a moderator who is excited about tropes and who isn’t on the verge of a burn out. (And I am dangerously close to that precipice.) I want to be able to enjoy tropes again. I want to write them and read them for fun and comment on them, not because I have to, but because I want to. And so, I think my tenure as moderator has come to a natural close. I want to step aside on a high note, and 13,000 posts seems like a pretty good high note to me, don’t you think?

I think TAT has a lot of life in her yet and I don’t think it should go away just because I have made the decision to step down. I was thinking I could possibly rename the blog to archive the previous posts so that the TAT name could be reused and someone new could take over. I would only ask that it be made clear that I am no longer affiliated or providing input for the blog and the owner would be free to do with it what they will. If anyone is interested, please contact me over DM to discuss. The askbox will remain closed.

I know I said above that I’m dangerously close to a burn out, but that does not mean I haven’t enjoyed every single moment of running this blog. Or of interacting with the amazing members of this incredible community. I am going to miss seeing those 100+ asks in my askbox every week. I’m going to miss getting that first glimpse at the limitless creativity and infectious enthusiasm you all have for whump. This has been an incredible 5 years and I can’t thank you all enough for all the support, love, and understanding you’ve shown me over the years.

I will forever be grateful to you all for making TAT so incredibly special.

Yours in whump,

Marie

#blog announcement

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 9 months

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Iorveth, Vernon Roche, his bald spot and Emhyr

Yes, this must sound utterly strange. Yesterday, @fandomwarehouse posted their hc about Iorveth seeking revenge on Emhyr because Vernon Roche is going bald in this post. Then, @she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats fueled my sudden interest in writing a story about this with even more hilarious ideas. Anyway, I know I said I have no time and I asked @valandhirwriter to write something, and she did, but so did I. Meaning here's two (very different) stories about Iorveth's assassination attempts on Emhyr – all because Vernon Roche is going bald. This was fun! It's not going on AO3 so ... do your magic, Tumblr!

Sine Qua Non (by @valandhirwriter)

Belletyne had never quite been Emhyr’s favourite celebration, at least not during his tenure in Nilfgaard. It had always reminded him of what he had lost, of things done and gone. Even now, that Belletyne had become the much happier occasion as the Crown Princess’s birthday, Emhyr was tense as he watched the guests mill about the wide areal of the royal gardens. Cirilla moved among them with ease, smiling and exchanging polite words. She was here and there charming her way through the assembled nobility, breaking a few hearts while she was at it. It allowed Emhyr to watch, observe and keep his distance from the general merrymaking.

Now and then he cast a glance across the flower rondel to where he could see Geralt. Sir Geralt of Rivia, Chevallier de Corvo Bianco made a better figure on these events than one might expect from a former Witcher. The Duchess of Toussaint had done Emhyr an indirect favour by bestowing estate and title on the man - as it allowed for him to be called to court without arousing suspicion. With Emhyr’s… fondness of the man, that was a boon indeed.

And it was why he watched so nervously. Cirilla had insisted that besides inviting her foster father, she also would invite her foster Uncle, another Witcher by the name of Eskel. Emhyr had of course been aware of the man’s existence. He had extensive files on each and every member of the school of the wolf, that had still been living around the time that Cirilla had come into their care. And the man in question had fought in Undvik. Otherwise, he was of no consequence, except that it seemed his daughter remembered him fondly.

Or Emhyr wished that this was the only consequence there was, if his daughter had a Witcher on hand, who could occasionally take missions from her or act as a body-guard, he’d not deny her, Emhyr had availed himself of Geralt’s help often enough, after all. But there was another reason Eskel was here. Cirilla had decided that she had it and wanted her Uncle and her foster father to stop avoiding each other. And with that, she had thrown a stone into a hornet’s nest. Emhyr knew that Eskel was highly critical of Geralt’s relationship with Emhyr, or of his acceptance of a noble title in the south. And while Geralt rarely cared what others thought of him, and did as he pleased, this was not just some stranger but a kind of older brother.

Emhyr peered over nervously, how easy could it be that some stern words of the dark Witcher could make Geralt break it off with Emhyr? Decide that it was dishonourable for his kind to be in an… affair with a ruler? The thought made Emhyr’s stomach churn. The two witchers stood in the shadow of a huge dove tree and the conversation appeared tense. Geralt stood leaning back on his heels, arms crossed in front of his chest, and his brother mirrored that posture, both were ready to argue or fight. From the distance it struck Emhyr how similar those two were - of sure, the colouring was different, Geralt was pale, with white hair, and Eskel was dark, bronze tanned and had dark hair, but otherwise, they were similar, body language, the same cat-like movements, even the same over-sharp reactions to their surroundings.

He wished he could listen in, hear how the conversation went. And yet, he did not want to know. He could imagine how that would go. He is the Emperor of Nilfgaard, the man who had you almost executed, a conqueror with more blood on his hands than any other before him, a coward, a liar, an overall cruel man. He is not worthy of you, Geralt. That’s what his older brother would say, before reminding Geralt of his duties to the school of the wolf and the world as a whole.

A loud gong announced noon - the hour of the sun - and Cirilla approached Emhyr, casting her foster father a sharp glance. Geralt dutifully left his place and followed her over, Eskel in tow. There as a short gaggle of servants to prepare the goblets for the semi-private blessing of the reborn child - in this case, Cirilla, before the servant approached with a tray of glasses. Emhyr was handed his glass, of course, before the tray was presented to the others.

“Kaer Morhen toast, dearest Crown Princess?” Eskel suddenly asked, he had a deep, hard voice. “To celebrate your twenty-fifth year and your ascension?”

Emhyr was startled, Ascension was not a concept of Nilfgaard, but familiar. Why was he bringing it up? To his surprise Cirilla beamed at Eskel, taking a glass, and gesturing the two witchers to follow suit. “Trade with me first, Eskel?” She asked, extending the hand with the glass.

Now Emhyr was confused, as he saw his daughter and the foreign Witcher reach around one another’s hand and exchange the glasses. Then Cirilla beamed at Emhyr. “Come, father, it is an old tradition and brings luck,” She said extending her hand.

Emhyr wanted to tell her that an Emperor did not trade glasses, but gave in, what was the harm? They traded glasses, and Cirilla turned to Geralt, while Eskel turned to Emhyr and the ritual was completed before Geralt offered the same trade to Emhyr, and then another time. Emhyr shook his head when the round ended with laughter. “Am I allowed to drink now?” he asked Cirilla a bit tersely.

She smiled at him. “Of course, father. May the sun illuminate your path.” They all drank. It was a Toussaint Pearl Wine, La Chaire de diable, a very intense vintage. Emhyr frowned, that should not have been served. Why had the cellarer brought this up?

He saw Geralt throw his head back, like in shock, and when he looked at him again, Geralt’s eyes were bleeding black, the same as Eskel’s. The two Witchers did not waste time, moving past Emhyr. At the same moment, a young man in a velvet doublet panicked and raced towards the next exit from the area, only to be caught by one of the soldiers stationed there, grabbing his neck, and quickly restraining him.

The full sequence of events hit Emhyr, the Witchers - and maybe Cirilla - must have detected the poison in the wine, and their inane glass exchanging had made sure the wine ended with the Witchers who were immune against most poisons. His heart skipped. Most poisons. Not all. What if Geralt had imbibed something even more dangerous for a Witcher? “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his own worry covered by the additional harshness of the voice.

Cirilla looked to Eskel. “You spotted him,” she said softly.

Eskel pointed to the man in velvet and to another fat noble. “Fat one passed the vial to velvet, velvet dipped the contents into the crystal pitcher from which your Highness and her Imperial father are served,” he said firmly. “By the taste, it is a mix of Ashbloom, foxglove, winter lily, and snow-root. An old elven recipe.”

And slow acting, Emhyr added in his mind. Very slow acting. It would have meant a tortuous death for him and Cirilla. He cast a worried glance at Geralt, but his lover stood there, watchful, strong, with no signs of discomfort. “Eskel, can you get the name of their employer from them? My Axii never was that strong,” Geralt rasped.

Emhyr wanted to remind him that a confession under mind control was not a confession at all, but Eskel shrugged. “There are better ways,” he said, taking a glass of wine from a shell-shocked servant and adding something - where he got it, Emhyr could not say - to it. The wine became greenish, and after a finger gesture of Eskel, glittered with strange sparks. He went over to the man in velvet, opening his mouth with a hard grip around the jaw and forced the glass’s contents down his throat. He struggled, screamed and then slumped on a bench. Eskel - his eyes still black as the night - looked at him. “They tell you all the time about Witchers and how we breed us little monsters,” he said gravely, “now, there is a taste. You can feel it burn in your already, do you? The pain along the spine, and in your bones. They will start to grow first… to transform you…”

The man gasped. “You cannot do this. I… I am a baron…”

Eskel shrugged. “Barons, Beggars the substance knows no difference, you are meat and meat changes…”

The man’s hands were shaking, and there were swellings forming at his knuckles. “It begins,” Eskel said softly. “The pain is only moderate now, when the bone spikes break through your flesh, it will be agony… and you will not be able to pass out. More will come out of your spine… your shoulders…” He reached for his side, tossing a small vial up in the air. “It is reversible… but only before the first spike breaks through. You know what can save your life.”

Emhyr watched in a sick fascination, as the man’s fingers swelled further, and his eyes went from fear to anger… to capitulation. “I was hired by an elf…” he rambled, “a former Scoia’tel, Esthelin, he had a compromising letter, that would have incriminated me… I had no choice. He… he waits, for confirmation of the Emperor’s death… at the Three Coroner’s Tavern in the city…” He raised his swollen hands pleadingly. “Now… please… don’t make me a monster.”

Eskel took the vial and dumped it down the man’s throat, he passed out immediately and the guards took him away. They also had cleared out the shocked guests, to ask further questions to all of them, de Rideaux had taken over there.

“What did you do to him?” Emhyr asked sharply. “I will not have a baron, not even a guilty one, changed into a monster,” he remembered the quills all too well.

The dark Witcher scoffed. “I added some of your flowering elf-root seeds to the wine, it creates a strong allergic reaction, which leads to swelling and bulges at the joints. Uncomfortable, but essentially harmless. The rest was a sign, a useless one that produces nothing but sparkles.”

The entire threatening house of cards collapsed as Emhyr realised it had been a trick. A menacing trick, underlined by poison-black eyes and legends about the monsters from the North. And the Baron had spilt it all. Emhyr had already gestured to several guards. “Have de Rideaux apprehend the elf immediately.”

With the celebration cut short, Emhyr returned inside and used the short span in between to speak to Geralt. His eyes were slowly fading back to the familiar gold, and he was tense. “We need to find out what is behind this,” Geralt growled, “that dose could have killed you thrice over,” He stepped closer and touched Emhyr’s shoulders. “This was too close.”

While Emhyr agreed with the principle, he was more worried about Geralt. “What about you? You took the entire dose meant for me?” He wanted to fuss about his Witcher, just a little, to make sure he was alright.

“There never was danger for me, Ashbloom, foxglove, winter lily, and snow-root are all plants Witchers will use for food.”

Relief, sweet, painful relief exploded in Emhyr’s chest. Of course, that was why Eskel had recognized the taste, he was used to eating these plants. Eating poisonous plants. Without thinking he reached for Geralt, pulling him close into a chaste, but warm, kiss. “You will refrain from shocking me like that,” he added, trying to not show how relieved he was.

Geralt arched an eyebrow at him quizzically, maybe the strongest way it showed he was worried about the assassination attempt. They were disrupted by the news that the elf in question had been caught and brought to the palace dungeons. “Any hope the same trick will work on him?” Emhyr asked.

His lover shook his head. “No one beats an elf at botany. I need a word with Eskel… Vesemir taught him some mean trick, and I say: mean as in brutal, on how to get the truth from an elf. Takes a lot of control in sign magic,”

Emhyr chose to accompany Geralt, much as he did not fancy getting told he was not worthy of a certain white-haired witcher, he wanted to stay close to Geralt. Eskel listened to what Geralt had to say and shrugged. “I can do it - be warned while bloodless it is cruel. Very cruel. I can try words to soften him up before going all in, but if he is committed it will mean breaking him down.”

“And still bloodless?” Emhyr asked, he had seen enough interrogations to know how it looked, and where it led.

“Bloodless, there won’t be a mark on him,” Eskel cast him a sharp glance. And the glance said that he was doing this for Geralt, not for Emhyr.

The elf had been secured in the dungeon, tied to an iron bar. He had been stripped of weapons and armour and spat at them when they came in. Emhyr remained in the shadows, just willing to watch. “I’d usually be merciful with you,” he drawled, “put a few pins under fingernails and get the truth. Even the mages swear that five pins inserted under the nails break the strongest compulsion to keep silent. Works directly into the subconscious or something… would be much less messy.” He seemingly cleaned his hand with a rag.

“But as you committed a crime against his majesty, someone wants to do this the hard way.” He walked up to the elf, fingers lightly touching the ear tips.

Emhyr could see the elf freeze, the touch was so light, it could barely be felt, but suddenly there was fear in the elf’s eyes. “Awww,” Eskel mockingly cooed. “Now you see… all it takes is your anatomy. Even a human, knowing how your eartips work, could do some things to you, but a witcher, controlling the vibrations of aard… there is no limit.”

He did not move, Emhyr could not even see something, there was no visible touch, but the elf began to spasm, winding in a fierce wave of… lust? His body convulsing. Eskel held him there for less than a minute before removing his fingers. “Just a light one, for starters…” he said, “pain, pleasure, happiness… there is no feeling that cannot be stimulated in those ears of yours, even love. Where shall I take you? So much pain, that you curse your own mother for ever giving your father that first kiss? Or maybe lust? Make you want until you beg all the guards in this hellhole to take you? Love maybe… make you overwhelmingly set on this dungeon’s chief interrogator. He is even good looking for a d’hoine….”

The elf panted and spat on the ground. “You can kill me, like your master is killing Ivoreth’s d’hoine. Go on, Witcher…”

Emhyr cast a confused glance at Geralt. “Which lover?” he asked softly.

Eskel must have picked up on it. “Whom is my master killing?” he asked, almost caressing the elf’s ear tips. Emhyr saw the elf shudder in fear. How much control could be gained over an elf via this method? How much had they to fear being manipulated through their own anatomy? He had never heard of the secret before, but the demonstration had been clear.

“Ivoreth’s d’hoine… Vernon. Your Emperor had him poisoned with some sickness.” The elf growled. “Just like him, use the man first and then dispose of him when he finds a little happiness.”

“Being happy is never advisable in Nilfgaard,” Eskel replied, and Emhyr saw the elf’s shudder, not knowing what feeling Eskel had just incited him. “But what sickness is this… what is happening to Roche?”

“He… he is sick. His hair falls out, it changes colour…”

Eskel let go of the elf and walked around him. “Changes like this?” he pulled a few pale streaks from his own hair.

The elf nodded. “But it falls out, it gets thinner and thinner and…”

“He is getting grey and losing his hair?” Eskel shook his head. “And because of that, you wanted to assassinate the Emperor of Nilfgaard? Why?”

“This is his doing, and if he kills Ivoreth’s love, then he will not live to either.”

Eskel ran his hand through his dark hair. “In the kingdom of fools, you squirrels are all Emperors,” he growled, leaving the cell.

Outside the dungeon, Geralt looked at Emhyr. “You didn’t poison Roche, did you?”

“Why would I?” Emhyer was still slightly shaken by the revelation. “It would be damaging and put Temeria into needless unrest. Though why Ivoreth would overreact like that…”

“Sine qua non,” Eskel said. “That without not - the one thing we cannot be without. And Ivoreth now comes face to face with the pain of loving a human. He will watch him grow old and die, while he lives on almost unchanged. When he realises what happens it will get worse.”

Geralt had gone pale, the words might hit closer to home than he liked. “But… there is no need to kill the elves for this. Give them the information and maybe something to restore Roche’s hair a little…”

Eskel scoffed. “And the next time Roche shows frailty, the same will happen again. Humans are frail and short-lived. Ivoreth never considered that, much like you, brother. Wailia’s tears might be a solution, though Vesemir would turn in his grave if we resurrected that knowledge.”

Emhyr cast the witcher a sharp glare. “I should prefer you not take up the snake oil trade, Wailia’s tears are as much a myth, as Amritsar or the golden Elixir of dreams.”

“They exist,” Eskel and Geralt exchanged a glance. “They need some unusual ingredients - drowner spit, dragon teeth, piss of a royal gryphon - the good stuff. We might not even have to tell Ivoreth, brew it up, send it to him with his elf here as a “cure”, with a warning. The Empire retains its nasty image, Roche will be around a while longer, and all is well that ends well.”

Emhyr was about to answer when Geralt left his side and walked up to his brother. “What about the blood? You are just so beyond the line…”

Eskel shrugged. “If it doesn’t work, I know where to find someone who still is strong enough, brother,” he replied. “But that’s not what you want to ask, is it? You want me to make more.”

It was a strange dynamic between them, a mix of disapproval and worry, and a mix of misunderstanding and care. Emhyr could not truly translate it. “Sine qua non,” Geralt said softly. “I never understood what Vesemir or you meant by that… now I do. And…”

“You don’t want to lose him,” Eskel ran his hand through his dark hair. “Alright, you give me a week, and you make sure that Emperor survives all other elven heroics. And there will be more. Then we talk.” He stepped past his brother and cast a sharp glance at Emhyr. “I’ll say it only once - you hurt my little brother, you harm him, and it’s my blades that you need to worry about.”

It was a strange moment, usually, Emhyr would have rebuked such bluntness, but suddenly he felt elated. Because whatever else it may mean, it also meant acceptance for what he and Geralt were and might become. It was a chance and one he would grasp with both hands.

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The Thing About Iorveth, Vernon Roche and Emhyr (by me, @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, yes I have no title for this)

Geralt became suspicious at the second assassination attempt, Emhyr only at the third. As far as that was concerned, Vizima turned out to be a real viper's nest – no pun intended, because witchers, especially vipers, had nothing to do with it. Geralt quipped, however, that they also had a reason for such attacks. Emhyr did not find that funny.

This whole situation was quite surreal. Geralt came to Vizima more often; Emhyr had not yet left the north, as if he still had to mend fences, including with his own daughter. The latter had agreed to take up her inheritance, but she had set a peculiar condition: until the emperor would retreat to Nilfgaard, Geralt was to act as her advisor. It was a rather absurd proposal, which Geralt flatly rejected, saying that his dislike of politics was common knowledge. Whereupon Emhyr, of all people, had reminded him of his involvement in the death of Radovid.

In general, Emhyr. Where was this strict guy, who had once demanded that Geralt be bathed and dressed in black clothes before he had forbidden him to speak, yet now… Now he was still impatient, bossy, and quite demanding, but there was Ciri, and for some reason he had nothing, absolutely nothing to counter her with. Ciri was a force of nature, and Geralt found it quite appropriate that Emhyr was quite helpless in the face of it.

So Geralt was now somehow a member of Vizima’s court, feeling like an exotic exhibit in the showcase of an auction house. At least until the assassination attempts occured. The first one was almost ridiculous, a small explosive box smuggled among the cargo – whoever had placed it there only revealed they had no idea Emhyr did not even get to see such things. Emhyr claimed assassination attempts occurred almost daily in Nilfgaard, and that this one neither surprised him nor did he think it was original. Geralt thought he sounded almost proud. Perhaps the man had to keep convincing himself of his worth by withstanding attacks on his life, what did he know.

The second time was about a delivery to the kitchen. This time it was more sophisticated – Geralt later learned that the local supplier had taken a bribe. In this way, poisonous plants had found their way into the kitchen. Something must have gone wrong here, because the cook had recognized them immediately. Geralt found the composition strange: psilocybe mushroom, banewart and a branch of bohun upas, a tree with poisonous sap. All these plants resembled non-poisonous ones, but were easy to recognize for the trained eye. Incidentally, they grew in dense forests, which Geralt also told Emhyr, who did not care much.

"I leave the art of botany to those who know more about it," he had said, and he had not even let Ciri interfere, who had already reacted to the first assassination attempt with concern.

The third time, however, Emhyr's cool facade crumbled, as Geralt noticed, not without satisfaction. Emhyr had introduced a (in Geralt's eyes superfluous, insecure and somehow silly) gesture in Vizima, which consisted of him and Ciri conducting public negotiations, weather permitting, in the palace's spacious courtyard. Much later, Geralt learned that this had come about mainly because Emhyr found the palace ugly, dark and kind of creepy, which in turn was somehow cute. Ciri seemed to prefer being outdoors anyway, and so did he, of course. So there Geralt stood, one step behind the old and the new ruler, always trying to stifle a yawn and at the same time keeping an eye out for danger.

On that particular day, an arrow made it very close to Emhyr, an arrow from a bow that was later discovered near the outer wall. However, no trace of the archer was found. Emhyr had the bow shown to him, and he remarked, "This looks familiar."

Geralt was surprised, but also somehow pleased. He had now had many weeks of forced study with Emhyr, and had learned much in the process. Emhyr was extremely well-informed on certain subjects (though mostly politics, military matters, and espionage), and on some things he was a walking encyclopedia. He could quote Ciri's origin up to Lara Dorren by heart, had peculiar knowledge about the viper-witchers and knew very well about magic, despite an understandable aversion to it.

Somehow, Geralt liked that. Apart from insane rulers like Radovid, he had known those who were downright stupid, those who farted half the day into their throne’s pillow and seemed to have more straw in their heads than the farmers on the fields those king’s and queens owned. Emhyr was indeed literate, and interesting beyond that, which admittedly made Geralt a little uncomfortable. He found that bad deeds were not to be outweighed by aristocratic features, a mysterious nature, and a pleasant smell.

And yet he liked it, which of course he kept to himself. He also liked that Emhyr had been able to identify the carvings on the bow – it was clearly an elven weapon.

"Maybe even Scoia'tael," he thoughtfully added, whereupon Emhyr became pensive.

The fourth attack plunged the court into great chaos. A perfectly normal and hitherto quiet (i.e. boring) day of audiences was nearing its end, when a great roar sounded and finally the doors to the throne room were pushed open with force. Something – one could not describe it otherwise because of the confusion and its speed – flitted through the room, a tangle from which arrows occasionally escaped. In the end, it turned out to be a band of elves, Scoia'tael in fact, who made a lot of noise, but were basically only five men.

Emhyr's soldiers easily put down the small uprising, and yet one managed to get within a hair's breadth of Emhyr. Had it not been for Geralt, who had kept track in all the chaos and noticed that one man of this group had broken away. However, he was not the only one: the equally striving and attentive Impera captain had almost caught the elf when Geralt hastily shouted, "Stop! Let him live!"

After a bit of a scuffle, they actually managed to pin the elf down, and Geralt and Emhyr both shouted at the same time, "Iorveth?"

Indeed. They had captured the famous elf leader, whom neither Emhyr nor Geralt had ever believed they would see again – albeit for different reasons and with different feelings. The mess had somehow ruffled Emhyr’s hair; a curl had stolen from what was actually a well coiffed, severe hairstyle and hung down into his forehead. Geralt found this very inappropriate, because it reminded him of earlier times and caused a feeling in his stomach as if he had just drunk a good liquor – only without the intoxication, and that was somehow strange. In any case, Emhyr claimed that he needed to recover from this mess, although Geralt believed that the man was meeting with his intelligence chief in the background to exchange information. Some time later, Emhyr – again, quite odd – came to Geralt personally and asked him to be present at Iorveth's interrogation.

"You have a history together," he said. "Maybe he'll be more likely to tell you what this is all about than my torturers."

"I would think that’s clear even without torture," Geralt returned, "he's obviously not well disposed towards you, after all, you took advantage of him and then tried to have him executed."

"No man can undo his past," Emhyr replied cryptically, "and what was logical at an earlier time will seem cruel in many a history book. Be that as it may, it doesn't explain why he shows up years later to exact his revenge."

That was true, though. Admittedly, the Scoia'tael had not benefited much from peacetime so far. Emhyr had abolished all reprisals against otherlings in the North, but the execution of his orders still left much to be desired. It might be that Iorveth simply wanted to finally act out his deep resentment against Emhyr. However, it turned out that Geralt was quite wrong with this thought. After they had exchanged some typical rudeness, which in the case of Iorveth had been combined with much shouting, clamoring and fidgeting, Geralt demanded to know what the problem was.

"Emhyr is the problem, isn't that obvious?" spat the elf.

"Well," Geralt returned calmly, "I'm the last one who wants to play the diplomat here, but why are you coming up with this now? The war is over, and while conditions are certainly not ideal..."

"What?" Iorveth interrupted him, confused, "Who said it was about that?"

"It isn’t? Well, why then, if not out of a grudge against Emhyr?"

"Oh, you bet your ass I have a grudge," Iorveth scoffed. "Are you familiar with the concept of blood ties, Geralt?"

Geralt nodded, and then – maybe for old times' sake, or maybe because he finally had to get this off his chest, Iorveth told him everything.

Later, Geralt met with Emhyr, who had insisted on a private parley, without Ciri, without his curious valet, and without his soldiers. He was really acting strangely lately.

"We need a sorceress," Geralt said, "or a Ban Ard mage for all I care, if you have one handy."

"As it happens, I don't," Emhyr grumbled, uncomfortable with the thought of magic. "Why? Did the elves get involved with magic? Do they possess an artifact that could harm me or Cirilla? Do they have a mage at their service?"

"Nothing like that," Geralt said, and then he started laughing.

For a while he enjoyed Emhyr's wry look. Somehow the man had really changed. In the past, he would have had him thrown out right away; after all, laughter was not a pastime that was particularly popular at this court. Emhyr had become more patient, even with Geralt.

"If you would have the kindness to explain this to me?"

"We need a strong hair restorer, and it must work quickly, preferably immediately. An ordinary one could be prepared by any alchemist, of course, but I have told Iorveth that only magic can help here. He believed it."

"A... hair restorer."

Emhyr's brows seemed to creep into his hairline. Geralt had never seen the man so confused. It was kind of touching.

"Yes. What I'm about to tell you absolutely has to stay between us, because if this thing is going to work, nobody can learn about this. Watch out. Iorveth thinks you're causing Vernon Roche undue stress and discomfort."

"Vernon Roche?"

Emhyr pushed his lower lip forward as if he were an offended child.

"The thought of me making this creep uncomfortable pleases me, frankly. I am surprised, however, that Iorveth does not feel the same way. If I remember correctly, the man pursued him mercilessly, and for a long time."

"That's right. But you see, sometimes old enemies can discover commonalities they weren't aware of before."

He looked at Emhyr, and somehow that warm feeling in his stomach was back. It felt like he had eaten something very good, or watched a particularly beautiful sunset. His own words echoed in him, and he thought, good heavens. Is this really true?

"You mean, people who previously rejected each other can see that their reasons no longer hold water?"

It was a strange formulation, Geralt thought. But he also thought that Emhyr was looking at him with great interest, at least if he interpreted the glint of those honey eyes correctly.

"Yes," Geralt replied slowly, as something inside of him tugged at his heartstrings, "or even a human and an elf. Anyway... I hardly dare say it, but apparently Vernon Roche and Iorveth have grown closer."

"Oh," went Emhyr. "Do you think that's bad?"

Geralt looked at him in surprise. The question was unusual. Did Emhyr really want to know his opinion on such a delicate question? Well, he had actually done his homework – as far as Geralt knew, same-sex relationships were not particularly uncommon in Nilfgaard and nowhere near as frowned upon as in the North.

"Well, I'm still having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that Vernon Roche and Iorveth, of all people.... But basically, no."

Their eyes met, and Geralt wondered if Emhyr had ever had the same feeling in his stomach that he had now. Whether he had ever given this feeling space or a name, like Vernon Roche and his Scoia’tael leader, who apparently were a thing now.

Emhyr cleared his throat noisily and continued, "All right, so the two are a pair. I’ve heard stranger things in my life. Now what do I have to do with that?"

"Well," Geralt said with relish, "you're obviously the cause of Vernon Roche's distress. I mean, of course Roche is not happy with the developments. His dream of Temeria – well, it was almost manic, and as for resentment, he probably has an even bigger one than Iorveth. In any case, Iorveth describes him as stressed. Because... the man loses hair. And the ones he has left would be white, Iorveth says."

Geralt grinned broadly, but Emhyr grimaced.

"Just the thought of that guy taking off his chaperon to show off his lice-ridden mane to anyone... wait. Let me do the math... That sounds like a natural progression."

"Exactly. Vernon Roche is in his prime, and apparently he's going bald. But you know what? Elves don't get bald heads. They never lose their hair, and it doesn't turn white until they're very, very old."

"Most Scoia'tael don't live that long," Emhyr followed, and Geralt nodded.

"Exactly. That means Iorveth doesn't know what this hair loss means for Roche. He thinks it's due to stress, he must have heard once that it can be a reason for all kinds of symptoms in humans. I've essentially confirmed it."

"But why?"

"Very simple. He wouldn't have believed the real explanation. The guy is obviously crazy about Vernon Roche, although I don't understand why, but to each his own. Furthermore, Iorveth now considers the man his blood brother, which is an important concept among the Scoia'tael – it means preserving the other's honor at all costs, protecting and caring for him. And one thing is clear: these assassinations will never stop, because in his opinion it's your fault, and there are still a lot of Scoia'tael out there who follow Iorveth. So I made him a peace offering."

"Which is?"

"Well, I've maintained that you can't officially make reparations to the Blue Stripes or the Scoia'tael, but would be quite willing, in order to keep the peace, to recognize past services."

"You did what?"

Emhyr's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Emhyr, listen to me. This is an ingenious and simple solution. You've been siccing your advisors on me for weeks to teach me the basics of diplomacy. Can't you see I'm doing just that?"

Emhyr swallowed. Even his Adam's apple looked elegant. Was that what Vernon Roche saw in Iorveth, and vice versa? A person, not an enemy image? What a thought.

"What exactly did you promise him?" he asked cautiously.

"Nothing but a hair restorer," Geralt grinned. "I told him you were willing to invest considerable cost in an experienced sorceress or mage to restore Vernon Roche. In return, Iorveth agrees to refrain from further attacks."

"Surely Vernon Roche will see through this nonsense."

"He would. But we will, of course, instruct the sorceress or mage to keep it secretive – which also means that Iorveth will have to try to administer the stuff to Vernon in secret. Roche mustn't know about it, because otherwise it won't work, I've told him that."

"It's a devious plan," Emhyr admitted after a moment's thought.

"Love drives people to do strange things," Geralt replied, lowering his eyes.

"All right, I agree," Emhyr finally said. "I'll have a sorceress come and make a hair restorer for Vernon Roche. I can't believe I just said that."

"Of course," Geralt said slowly, "as long as you have Iorveth in your power, there could be more attacks, after all, the Scoia'tael will miss their leader."

"You're not seriously suggesting I release the man after half the court witnessed him pounce on me," Emhyr protested. "It will already seem like a strange act of mercy if I pardon him later, all without anyone knowing anything about a hair restorer."

"That's not what I'm saying at all. But... I should probably stay close to your side for the time being. I know the Impera are capable guys and all, but I’m a witcher, and I may know some more tricks… I mean, if it's all right with you."

Geralt felt like he was stammering. Emhyr, however, fixed his eyes on him, honey and amber and a hint of hazelnut, and he nodded.

"I think I would like that."

#writing #fanfiction #crack fic #Geralt/Emhyr #Emralt #Emhyralt #Vernon Roche/Iorveth #Iorveth/Roche #my fics

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