#her name can translate to Grub

[paula-gio]

🎃Gororoba’s profile in Monster High format!!!

#fun facts: #her name can translate to Grub #I actually don’t like mushrooms #also not a lesbian #cheers to them though #I haven’t decided what’s under the pumpkin yet. idk if she has a face. all I know is what you see #oc #gororoba #monster high mh character profile card

[cometomecosette]

Les Misérables" musical character interpretations: Madame Thénardier

Here are the four main musical characterizations I've seen of a nasty woman we all love to hate.

Whenever I want to shorten her name, I've used "Thénardiess," Charles Wilbour's translation of Hugo's "la Thénardier" ("the Thénardier woman").

The Giantess

            This boisterous, imposing Mme. Thénardier embodies Hugo’s description of the character as a “mastodon,” who “swore splendidly” and could crack nuts with her fist. She’s typically a very large, masculine-looking woman, with a gruff, booming voice, but regardless of what she looks or sounds like, her personality is larger-than-life. She’s loud, coarse, money-grubbing, hard-drinking, and fun-loving, yet with a monstrous temper. Her abuse of Cosette is ferocious: while her bellowing might get laughs just for being so over-the-top, they won’t laugh at the way she grabs, shoves, and threatens to beat the little girl. But apart from this, she tends to be the more comical Thénardier spouse compared to her slimier, more sinister husband, and she gleefully hams up all her comic business: faking sobs at the news of Fantine’s death and over her fake baby in “The Robbery,” slapstick at the wedding, etc. Yet broadly funny though she is, she isn’t stupid. It varies whether she comes across as her husband’s equal partner in crime or a the real “brains of the outfit,” but either way, her brutish exterior hides a scheming mind, and though she bickers nonstop with Thénardier, he couldn’t get by without her. At any rate, he won’t dominate her; this Thénardiess is indominable.

The Witch

         This Mme. Thénardier is less physically imposing than the Giantess, but she’s arguably more sinister. She tends to be thin, angular, and bony, and she likely has big teeth with a gap or two in them. Physically, she’s all sharp edges, more like a stereotypical witch (hence her name) than like Hugo’s “ogress.” Those sharp edges extend into her personality too. Where the Giantess tends to be the more comical of the Thénardiers while her husband has a darker edge, the Witch is the more serious and blatantly ruthless of the two: the embodiment of the villainy her husband hides behind his amiable façade. Her humor is sarcastic and bitter, and while her abuse of Cosette is probably less loud than other Mme. Thénardiers’, it’s more venomous, without playing any lines for laughs. Whether she comes across as her husband’s equal partner in crime or as the one in charge will depend on the portrayal of her husband, but either way, she’s at least just as cunning as he is and likely more so. It’s also likely that within her sharp, sinister demeanor, there’s a hint of mental instability. If the novel’s version of Éponine were to live to middle age, marry a man she didn’t love, and become much less sympathetic, she would probably resemble this version of her mother.

The Oppressed Oppressor

            While still a comic character and still a villain, this Mme. Thénardier is more sympathetic than others. While the Giantess best captures the grotesque and brutal qualities of Hugo’s character, this one captures her pathetic aspects. Like Hugo’s Thénardiess, this one is dominated by her more cunning husband, and he treats her shabbily. Throughout “Master of the House,” he’ll be shown treating her more like a servant than a wife, and when Valjean arrives, Thénardier will direct her every move: when to feign tears, when to stop, when to fish for more money, when to stop so as not to seem greedy, etc. It’s clear that she’s both bitter and utterly exhausted by this life. Yet at the same time, she might convey unrequited love for her husband. (Foreshadowing her daughter’s plight?) During “Master of the House” she might genuinely try to attract him, only for him to repulse her and flirt with younger women. Thus, her string of insults toward him stems from weariness and hurt, and she makes it comical as a coping mechanism. Of course, none of this can excuse her treatment of Cosette (who clearly serves as an outlet for her general frustration), or her willing role in all her husband’s schemes. But whether we like her or not, we understand where she’s coming from.

The Fallen Beauty

            This Mme. Thénardier is very, very different from Hugo’s character, but within the musical, she can be effective. This Thénardiess is neither a brute nor a frump, but a sensual and reasonably attractive woman. Yes, she’s aging, blowsy, and mean, with a gaudy fashion sense, but she was clearly a beauty in her youth, still has charms, and knows it. She specializes in flirting and seducing men to pick their pockets or manipulate her way out of trouble. We’ll see her do this successfully with at least one inn customer during “Master of the House” and later attempt it, not so successfully, with Valjean and Javert too. And the same erotic hold she has over the drunks at the inn she also has over her husband, enhanced by the fact that she’s smarter than he is. While in front of others she lets him talk more and pretend to be in charge, she’s unquestionably the true “master of the house.” Both she and Thénardier enjoy this arrangement. The insults she aims at him are playful: though his blundering exasperates her, she really is happily married. As for the rest of her demeanor, she sometimes shows a temper, but in general she’s an understated schemer, with a distinctly dry, deadpan sense of humor. Hugo’s Thénardiess she’s not, but she’s an interesting comic character in her own right.

#les mis #les miserables #musical #characterization #comparison #mme. thenardier #tw: child abuse

[wannabedjs]

2003 was an eventful year...Went on a reality tv show ("Anything for Love") which never aired, studies abroad in Guadalajara Mexico, visted Mexico City, and Cuba . A key new chapter in my life. Fairly quickly after starting my job at UCH in 1998 it became quite evident that there was a disconnect between the providers/staff who only spoke English and the sizable patient population that only spoke Spanish. The sole translator was Dr. Michel Choncol, a renal fellow from Venezuela. I've always felt that the monolingual culture of the USA was a disadvantage. Having only taken a couple Spanish classes in high school, I had near zero Spanish skills. I decided to start the process to learn spanish. Taking classes a couple times a week at Colorado Free University and then enrolling at CU Denver into classess for no credit. Over a period of 3-4 years I advanced my spanish vocabulary to hold simple conversations. I knew if I wanted to accelerate my learning I needed to have a dedicated period of immersion. I'd been talking about this plan for a number of months, so when I proposed the idea of taking a 2 month immersive 'sabbatical' in Mexico to my boss and coworker, it was received with support. As a student at CU Denver I was able to enroll in an study abroad program down to Guadalajara, Mexico. Guadalajara is the LA of Mexico (Mexico city being the NYC) and is located in the state of Jalisco (home of tequila, puerto vallarta, mariachi music, and dozens of large scale murals). I lived with a family that had 2 other 'renters" in their central Gudalajara home. One of the other renters was a Japanese guy who didn't speak English and worked as a sushi chef and was a lucha libre on the side.

Wonderful experience as I learned more in 6 weeks of class than I did in the previous 3-4 years of classroom studies in Denver. (The key was not hanging out with the other native English speakers, most of whom were from England. The movie, Y tu mama tambien, had a sizable impact on most of them wanting to learn Spanish). I regularly hung out with the family's young 20ish old daughter and her boyfriend, Diego, who I was pretty sure was part of the cartel. He owned a couple "bars" which were just fields of land where they served cheap beer and had hip hop music. He even had a young dog named "Sixty" (for 69..yep. no lie).

Weekend trips included a memorable evening in a cemetery in Michoacan for noche de muertos. Straight out of Coco.

I had 2 weeks at the end open for travel and full immersion traveling to Spanish speaking cities. Half way thru my time in Guadalajara, I started planning an excursion to Mexico City then Cuba. Mexico City was as lively as advertised and my prep for Cuba seemed rather simple. No US banks in Cuba and they accepted cold hard cash from the USA.

So entering Havana with enough cash to make it for a week vacation in Havana and the beach town Varadero. Loved Havana and a highlight was walking up to the Interior Ministry government building thinking it was maybe some fancy hotel. It has a massive Che Guevera face on the outside with the tag line "Hasta Victoria Siempre." Now I should have researched the area where I was at, but looking over at the building I thought it said "Hotel Victoria Siempre.'....common mistake...one that you realize quickly as you begin walking toward it and fully armed military guards start walking towards you telling you to leave. I was like "Bet!" and high tailed it for some mojitos and grub far away from the plaza.

Varadero is the old Copa Cabana area. Like Vegas, but frozen in the 1960s. Massive hotels (previously casinos) just vacant. I was staying at an all inclusive type hotel with beautiful beaches with many european tourists. Most were topless which made it very difficult to read on the beach. One of the nights the hotel arranged for everyone to go to a nightclub which was all you can drink (For like 20 bucks) and had a full on cuban band with dancers. Kind of like an old supper club, but without food. It was fantastic, the 10+ piece band threw down cuban salsa/conga for hours. Towards the end of the show they invited the crown onto the large stage to dance. So here we are just getting down on the stage (the Italian gals with tops on just didn't look the same..hahaha) and they show ends at like 10ish. Within minutes of them stopping the place goes straight US hip hop club. With the 1st song being "In Da Club"...a very current song at the time.

If that wasn't memorable enough, I had everything planned. for the last 24 hours of my trip. Bus trip to the airport in Havana was scheduled and and I decided to spend the rest of the cash I had on gifts. Cigars, t shirts, foods, random wooden statues, etc. So I get to the airport and check in my bags with plenty of time before take off. As I approach the customs check point, I see that there is a $25 departure fee to leave the country. Again cash only. Problem was I only had like 5 bucks. Now I like to believe I'm relatively calm and collected when it comes to stressful situations. I find it rare that you end up in situation without a solution. Well, this was one of those situations . I had a moment where I was like "Fuck, I don't have a clue how I can make this work?" Then the master plan hit. The Cuban embargo that has kept the country frozen in time circa 1960 also has kept technology away. Common electronics are extremely expensive. SOOOO. I take out my yellow sony-disc man and walk around the airport waving it saying "se vende! Se Vende!" It took a good 30 min, but a dude came up with $20 and I sold him the discman...which got me out of the country. I still have the flight ticket with the PAGO $25 stamp on it.

2003 - peak meet me in the basement rock n roll

The comeback after the post grunge rock-rap (see Woodstock 99) boy band era. Was it all post 9/11?

Elefante, white stripes, broken social scene, strokes, TV on the radio

But also an electro-rock-punk scene w the rapture

No need to listen to- GREATS

OutKast: Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (Arista)

The White Stripes: Elephant (V2)

Radiohead: Hail to the Thief (Capitol) - saw at red rocks

BSS- you forgot it in people

Basement Jaxx: Kish Kash

Postal service- give up

Yo la tango

Belle and sebastian -dear catastrophe

RH factor - hard groove

Erykah badu - world wide

50 cent - get rich or die trying

Sandra Collins - march essential mix w pete tong from Miami winter music fest

Revisits and new finds

Four tet - rounds

- his debut (?) and maybe my fav. Less Asian/Indian influenced

Caribou- up In Flames.

early release with few great tracks.

Elefante - loved them back it 03 and still solid 2000 era rock n roll

Strokes - room on fire. Just the same music as this is it..but who cares? It’s great!

Rapture- Echos. an early release of the budding electro-punk-rock-dance scene (mainly from NYC). 2-3 banging tracks

Tv on the radio- young liars EP 1st

Audio bullys- ego war. Can’t believe this didn’t get on best of lists. A blend of house, punk, British hip hop, and beats. We Don’t Care is one of best tracks of the year.

Decemberists - her majesty. Still catchy and an enjoyable listen. Very 03-y

M83 - really out there with full synths, but a couple tracks which lead to his take off w “Dreaming” almost a decade later

Pernice brothers- these guys! Discovery of the week. Indie/folk/country rocky with a coolness and sincerity . Lyrically stellar

Massive attack 100th window

Death cab- transatlanticism

- was a late comer to DCFC and really didn’t listen to this record til 08ish. Can see why they have a large loyal fan base. My question, ya think they’ve made more money off tv shows and movies that have their music than off their records? Last song end like the 1st begins . So can start anywhere and the album flows if on repeat

New Pornographers: Electric Version (Matador)- catchy pop-indie rock. I probably would have been really into them had I given this record a couple listens back in 03

Massive attack - 100th Window. The OGs of trip hop! F/u to mezzanine from 98’. That alone made this a must listen to. Still their signature sound that resonates through me the same as in 03’. A truly night record. Not many of those in 03

Randomness

Wrens - pitchfork #1. Not good

Jeff Buckley - live at sin e rerelease as 2 CD set. He will always be a part of my musical journey. Maybe the largest part w regards to memories over years and stories

- NYC house of neon(?) during interview for job at montefore

- house sitting for Bud Carlsen (a subconscious influence to me going to CO). and making late night pancakes listening to his music

- late night music!

- heading to Memphis to search for his body with Angela Angstman and Allison

Lots of great music I didn’t get to…

Bad plus

Arab stap

Mad lib invaded blue note

British sea power

Cursive

Ted Leo and pharmacists

Jay z black album

The neptunes - clones

Constantine’s

Memomena

My morning jacket

Kings of Leon

Mogwai- happy songs for happy peeps

Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell (Interscope)

The Shins: Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop)

Lefty deceiver

PK

#year in music #pkpickles #2003

[hoochieblues]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

Tagged by @faux-fires (tysm <3)

I know I've done a couple of these before and I forget who I've tagged, sooo... most recent usual suspects in my notifications, woe be upon ye: @carabas, @aria-i-adagio, @potatowitch, @mothtimism, @tea42, @dreadfutures, plus if you would like to experience the ordeal of being known, feel free to consider yourself tagged whether we're mutuals or not. :)

were you named after anyone? When I changed my name (because reasons), I picked one partly inspired by one of the first people who was kind to me as a kid. (tiny violin sounds) I'm currently playing with using a shorter gn form of it, but if you translate the original a couple times, it also gives me an inbuilt stripper name if I ever need one. You can try guessing what that is, but I may or may not confirm it.

when was the last time you cried? This past weekend, for animal rescue reasons I'm trying not to vent about on main. Can't save them all; doesn't mean you don't try.

do you have kids? Nope. I've been saying since I was a teen that the cursed bloodline ends with me (it technically doesn't since my sister had a kid but for full 'ack-shually' points we're half-siblings so eh). I feel like if I ever get enough space/health/motivation to parent, that's what fostering and adoption are for.

do you use sarcasm a lot? Moi? Perish the thought.

what’s the first thing you notice about people? That is a very good question for a deeply oblivious person. Probably hair/clothes/mannerisms? I'm like a toddler, I pick up on bright colours and movement. Also eyes.

what’s your eye color? grey/blue

scary movies or happy endings? porque no los dos? I think I have to say scary movies, due to my well-documented collections of giallo and b-movie schlock.

any special talents? I am a horrible dilletante that dicks around with everything. idk. Given there's currently a puppy on my shoulder and I'm trying to stop her chewing a fresh piercing (ow) I'm going to say I am a very patient person who's pretty good with animals.

where were you born? Kent, ye olde garden of englande.

what are your hobbies? oh god. fucking around with fabric/thread/yarn, grubbing about in the dirt, playing music abominably, analog photography (also abominable), arty crap, watching/heckling movies, making more food than I can possibly consume. Various combinations of the above all at once. Travelling when I can, which is not often.

have any pets? none resident, sadly, but the current foster roster is Chance, the trauma rehab project dog, and Peppy le Phew the afore-mentioned parrot pup who is mostly made of teeth and has 4loko instead of blood. I do behavioural consult and fostering for a small rescue specialising in dogs liberated from inhumane public shelters (read: extermination centers) in E. Europe so I do a lot of integrating fosters into domestic households and showing them that humans are not entirely awful. They usually get the idea pretty fast, I learn a lot, and it's wonderful watching them settle in forever homes.

what sports do you play/have you played? badminton, tennis, swimming… not exactly equestrian 'sport' but I wanted to get into dressage as an extension of natural horsemanship stuff. It was going okay until i broke my buttbone, though I very rarely had any actual serious lessons. CFS kicks my ass these days, but I still like to hike/swim and I'd get back into racket sports and weights if there was anywhere local.

how tall are you? billed height 5'8" but I hunch shrimpback style. Trying to stop.

favorite subject in school? eng lit and history were easiest for me, but actually probably shop/cdt. I had an awesome teacher who let me use the workshop after hours and was really supportive, which was… novel. (And because I outed myself about this already somewhere else, yes I was an annoying theatre kid. We had a crappy beat up sofa in the school drama studio and we'd drink horrible vending machine coffee and get grossly pretentious because we'd just learned about Artaud. Yes, I am duly shamed.)

dream job? making a living off my writing again (which would, y'know, actually involve getting off my ass and putting stuff back out there. this fall, i swear. i'm still side-eyeing what to do about pen names and platforms. ughhhh. snd hlp. and shout if you fancy beta reading or volunteering opinions....) and growing veggies in some sort of queer commune, as long as I can have a small hut on the edge of said commune and only be bothered infrequently, please and thank. Before I got sick, I was intending to hang around in academia and/or theater, but I wouldn't do the former these days (at least in the UK). I'd probably still do the latter if I had the spoons, though I might well regret it. someone would, anyway.

#tag game

[cadavertrolls]

erik you mentioned having a mom? my condolences, but if she was still alive which one of your quads would be her favorite?

"Oh, no competition, Omnius. Omnius by far, because technically I'm not supposed to have 'intimate quads', he's the only one she wouldn't crucify me for having. Ugh, I can practically hear her fucking voice."

"Venaemsz ve? Ooohhh tau'ou gyauktoum~, tau'ou naeszae~, ketau'ou rouszeu~! Enam ou qaektaen?"

>Erik groans and throws his head back dramatically after his impersonation, pouring more wine into a different, unbroken glass.

"They'd get along too well and then she'd end up telling him all my embarrassing grub stories... I wouldn't hear the end of it."

[Translation under cut]

direct translation:

"Who's this? Ooohhh pretty horns~, pretty blood~, cute face~! What's his name?"

It's all a pretty basic 1:1 translation but I do want to point out the way the ke- prefix is used here and the diversity of the word tau'ou

Tau'ou can pretty simply translate to Pretty/Handsome/Beautiful but tbh it just means Something looks Good or you like the way something looks, it's a concept that gets shortened through translation and what word it gets translated to is decided on what doesn't sound the weirdest

Ke- ive mentioned a before a few times, it's a good catch all prefix to just say something is lesser. It can be in size, value/worth, negative or positive connotation, it's context! This is one time where it's not context, ketau'ou has become a word of its own and roughly translates to cute. Ke- here baby-fies the original word to making it sweeter and more endearing. Erik's mom(or Erik impersonating her lol) is basically woobifying Omnius by using that term with him LOL

#answered #anonymous #.txt #erik text #forgot my conlang tag ill add that later LOL #royal court

[lindasipsandspills]

The Setting Sun

By Osamu Dazai

A review that may certainly contain spoilers.

General Information:

Edition:

Translated by Donald Keene from A New Direction Books in e-Book-format.

Author:

Shūji Tsushima, known by his pen name Osamu Dazai, was a Japanese novelist and author. He was bron on 19 June 1909 and died on 13 June 1948. A number of his most popular works, such as The Setting Sun and No Longer Human, are considered modern-day classics.

Short Synopsis (via goodreads):

"The post-war period in Japan was one of immense social change as Japanese society adjusted to the shock of defeat and to the occupation of Japan by American forces and their allies. Osamu Dazai’s The Setting Sun takes this milieu as its background to tell the story of the decline of a minor aristocratic family.

The story is told through the eyes of Kazuko, the unmarried daughter of a widowed aristocrat. Her search for self meaning in a society devoid of use for her forms the crux of Dazai’s novel. It is a sad story, and structurally is a novel very much within the confines of the Japanese take on the novel in a way reminiscent of authors such as Nobel Prize winner Yasunari Kawabata – the social interactions are peripheral and understated, nuances must be drawn, and for readers more used to Western novelistic forms this comes across as being rather wishy-washy.

Kazuko’s mother falls ill, and due to their financial circumstances they are forced to take a cottage in the countryside. Her brother, who became addicted to opium during the war is missing. When he returns, Kazuko attempts to form a liaison with the novelist Uehara. This romantic displacement only furthers to deepen her alienation from society."

Page count:

175 paper pages.

Trigger warnings:

Mention of suicide, death, sickness, alcoholism, prostitution, affairs.

Initial thoughts post-read:

What an unsettling book indeed.

Reading it was an experience that stirred a mix of emotions. From the start, it unsettled and even frustrated me, yet I found myself unable to put it down. I was consumed by a need to understand the fate of the narrator, to understand her journey on a deeper level and not just take it on a surface level.

The loss of the narrator's mother, compounded by her brother's drug and alcohol addiction as well as his eventual tragic suicide, struck a chord within me. Despite the overwhelming grief, there was a sense of pride that she didn't succumb to the same fate. I couldn't help but wonder if it was the lack of maternal love that drove her to seek comfort in physicality rather than emotions. Was that why she only understood herself to be worthy once she had lain with her brother’s sensei?

I'll admit, I approached the book with reservations, expecting to dislike its unsettling themes. Yet, as I delved into the story, I found myself drawn to Kazuko in ways I didn't anticipate. Her struggles resonated with me on a personal level. I suppose that’s why I cannot hate the book for what it represents and for what it did to her as a narrator. Kazuko's story has left an indelible mark on my heart.

Quotes:

I asked with a little smile, "Doesn't it make any difference to you that I don't love you?" He answered seriously, "It doesn't matter for a woman. A woman can be vague." - "But a woman like myself cannot think of a marriage without love. I am fully grown. Next year I will be thirty." I was taken aback at my own words.

All men are alike. - I wondered if that might be a philosophy. I don't believe that the person who first thought up this extraordinary expression was a religious man or a philosopher or an artist. The expression assuredly oozed forth from some public bar like a grub, without anyone's having pronounced it, an expression fated to overturn the whole world and render it repulsive.

I wonder if we are to blame, after all. Is it our fault that we were born aristocrats? Merely because we were born in such a family, we are condemned to spend our whole lives in humiliation, apologies, and abasement, like so many Jews. I should have died sooner. But there was one thing: Mama's love. When I thought of that I couldn't die.

#aesthetic #book classics #book commentary #book criticism #book recommendations #books #the setting sun #dazai osamu #japanese #japanese literature

[twstheadcanons]

Self-Indulgent TWST Geography

A long post of generalised geography headcanons for the world of TWST complete with continents for my own personal needs.  The post divides locations by Continent.

Anyway why is there a homeland whose name is just the definition of a desert.

Continents (and ocean)

Errant - a western continent in Twisted Wonderland. Mzunguko - the second largest continent in Twisted Wonderland.   Yalmae - the largest continent in Twisted Wonderland.   Abíní - a continent West of Errant. Tridente Ocean - the largest ocean in Twisted Wonderland.

Errant

Rose Kingdom – a country in the western region of Errant. It isn’t a particularly large country, and traveling from it to its neighbouring countries is possible via buses or car. Crownsshire – a county in Rose Kingdom Crowns – the capital  of Crownsshire. It is the town Riddle, Trey, and Che’nya live in.  

Land of Pyroxene – a large country in Errant.  Known for its cold, snowy winters and history with legends pertaining to five of the Great Seven. Waldburg – province Vil’s family is from.  Largely influenced by another country within Errant. Argent – a province in Land of Pyroxene.   Verre – a city in Argent.  Trein and Cater are from here.  Félicité Cosmetics originates here. Miroir – a province in Land of Pyroxene.  Has a large outlet mall popular with fashion-lovers and shopaholics.  The Ténèbres brand originates here. Enchantée – a town in Miroir. Jack and Vargas live here, whilst Vil and his father move here. Scharlachrot - a province in Land of Pyroxene. Epel’s Village of Harvest resides here, and is famous for its widespread organic produce.

Isle of Lamentation – island country, its popularised global name is a translation from the isle’s original Nísos Thrínos.  It has robust technological advancements and is the homeland of the popular idol group On the Edge, known for having concerts with elaborate imagery and visual effects from some of the best technicians available.  Due to legends of the God of the Underworld,  dogs are extremely popular on the Isle of Lamentation. Kapnós – capital of the Isle of Lamentations where the Shroud family resides.  

Valley of Thorns – an isolated country small in population, largely consisting of a large mountain range.  The closer one is to where its Queen resides, the colder it gets.  It is said the Valley of Thorns can go weeks with nothing but moonlight. Geimhreadh - technically the name of the forest near the Valley of Thorns’ mountain range, where the Queen makes her home at its peak.  Its name spread to the residential areas nearby.

Mzunguko

Afterglow Savannah – country in Mzunguko,  ‘Afterglow’ acts as a loose translation of its name, Baadaye.  It lies in eastern Mzunguko.  Famous for its royal guards and leading role in nature conservation. Kiburi – a county in the east of the Afterglow Savannah. Mwamba – capital of Kiburi, where the Kingscholar royal family lives. Maisha – a county in Afterglow Savannah, with its capital sharing the same name.   Jioni – a town in Maisha.  Ruggie and his family live here.

Manyoya – county in Afterglow Savannah.  Well-known for a famously expansive library and a high population of avian beastfolk. Uzuri  – a city in Manyoya, where Rook is from.

Yalmae

Land of Hot Sands – one of many countries in the continent of Yalmae,.  Within the country, it’s referred to as Aldif’.  Rich with its magical history and origins of astrology, Aldif’ nurtures Magicians skilled in divination.  It has a vivid musical scene as well. Misbah - governate of Aldif’. Yatamanaa – capital of Misbah, a largely lucrative city within Aldif’ and city where Kalim and Jamil live.

Abíní

Port of Jubilee - a diverse nation where Sam’s family lives, owning an extensive emporium.  A vast amount of cultures reside in Port of Jubilee, many sharing common ancestors and languages with one another. Nanm - province in Port of Jubilee. Sekrè - port town in Nanm that Sam is from.  His family owns an impressive emporium popular with locals.

Tridente Ocean

Coral Sea - a sea within the Tridente Ocean.  Many of coastlines range across countries within Errant, Mzunguko, and Yalmae.  Beneath its waters lies a kingdom sharing the same name as the sea.  

Name Trivia

Continents (and ocean)

Errant - the continent of Errant has the homelands based off movies such as Alice in Wonderland, Snow White, Hercules, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, and Cinderella.  The name stems from certain scenes in the movie marking a particular moment the protagonists feel out of place or stray off the expected course.

Alice in Wonderland: Alice’s misadventures begin when she makes the decision to follow a strange rabbit, straying off the course of simply reading and studying as her sister wished, where the curious and at worst annoying strange creatures and nature of Wonderland take a turn when she meets the Caterpillar, who questions Alice’s place and identity, and the stress of her situation and being unable to return home overwhelms her emotionally.

Snow White - the horrific moment Snow White, in a state of panic, rushes through a dark forest, where her fears envision hidden horrors within the trees and wildlife.

Hercules - after refusing to listen to Phil’s warnings about Megara being in cahoots with Hades, Hercules faces the devastating fact that Megara (reluctantly) deceived him, and loses his superhuman strength and faith in himself.

Sleeping Beauty - shortly after meeting a man she falls for, Aurora becomes devastated and resigned to her fate being betrothed to a complete stranger out of responsibility for her future and country.

Beauty and the Beast - Maurice’s ventures through a mysterious forest consequently leads him to the Beast’s castle in a desperate attempt to escape cold, only to be imprisoned by the Beast for intruding, ultimately putting the story into motion.  After Belle makes a deal to swap places with her father and free him, Belle starts off terrified and in over her head despite saving her father’s life.

Cinderella - after the mice’s hard work creating a fitting ballgown for Cinderella to enjoy the ball, her stepsisters ruin the dress and Cinderella’s chances of leaving her oppressive family’s home.  Her distress and tears lead her to meeting the Fairy Godmother.

Mzunguko - “circle” in Swahili, the language prominent in Lion King’s names, lyrics, and Rafiki’s dialogue, as well as the official language of Kenya, where much of the movie’s settings take inspiration and blatantly feature.  Taken from the iconic “Circle of Life” song.

Tridente Ocean - “trident” in Italian.  Yes, I hear you.  The author is from Denmark.  The statue is in Denmark.  The movie references the statue in Denmark.  However the surname Ashengrotto and Azul’s mother running a ristorante screams Italian and there’s the overall edgy mafia vibe the Octatrio has going on.  I win this one.

Yalmae -  “shine” in Arabic (يلمع).  I wanted a name that illustrated the vibrant, lively diversity of the continent’s many countries, cultures, flora, and fauna.  Something akin to a name that inspires a welcoming feeling.

Abíní - “morning” in Navajo.  I wanted a name that inspires energy and enthusiasm, like a sunrise in summer.  

Homelands

Rose Kingdom

Crownsshire - just the most painfully English name I could think of.  “Crown” refers to, naturally, the crown of the Queen of Hearts.  Also decided to make the Rose Kingdom its own, smaller, more limited country, instead of allowing its apparent monarchy to leech off 20+ different countries Crowns - do you have any idea how genuinely shocking it is we don’t actually have a town here named this.

Afterglow Savannah

Baadaye - “afterglow” in Swahili.  The official and native name of the Afterglow Savannah.  Interestingly, my findings found translations of it meaning “future” as well, which I consider fitting. Kiburi - “pride” in Swahili, can refer to a ‘pride of lions’ or confidence (often overconfidence). Mwamba - “rock” in Swahili, alluding to the Pride Rock that Mufasa’s pride resides in. Maisha - “life” in Swahili. Jioni - “evening” in Swahili.  This refers to where anywhere the sun doesn’t reach, Simba shouldn’t wander, because it’s too dangerous. Originally, I wanted to go with “Kivuri”, which means “shadow”.  However when I went to double check that ‘shadowland’ was a thing in Lion King, referring to where the Elephant Graveyard is, it’s actually a song from the Broadway musica called “Shadowland”, sung by Nala (Heather Headley). It both mourns the desolate state of the Pridelands under Scar’s tyranny, and narrates Nala’s resolve to leave and find a way to save her people and their land.  The song is absolutely gorgeous, solemn, and powerful, and contributes more than any live-action CGI Disney movie could ever come up with.  Its instrumental composition features the melody lei-motif prominent in the animated film (yes, That song.  the heartbreaking one).  It’s one of my favourites in Lion King alongside “He Lives in You” and “Not One of Us” because I like the ones where the chorus goes off. Please just listen to the Lion King Broadway soundtrack it makes me cry with how gorgeous and heartfelt it is.   Anyway in their money-grubbing ways I hope Disney puts the Broadway on Disney+ so some brave soul takes one for the team to pirate it Manyoya - intended to mean “feather”, but to my understanding it also encompasses “fur”. Uzuri - “beauty” in Swahili.  Nothing too deep here, just something pertaining to Rook.

Land of Hot Sand

Aldif’ - “warmth” in Arabic (الدفء).  Meant to allude to a comforting warmth, kind of hinting that the popularisation of “Land of Hot Sand” more or less leaves the official name lost in translation. Misbah - “lamp/light” in Arabic (مصباح), naturally referencing the magical lamp sought after throughout the movie. Yatamanaa - “wish” in Arabic (يتمنى).  Meant to be bit a bit of a cheeky play on words.  The “wish” inside the “lamp”.

Land of Pyroxene

Waldburg - Wald is "forest” in German.   References the forest that Snow White runs away into after being warned of the Evil Queen’s intentions. Argent - “silver” in French.  References Cinderella’s silver dress. Verre - “glass” in French.  References Cinderella’s glass slipper. Miroir - “mirror” in French.  References both the Mirror of Snow White and the enchanted mirror Beast gives Belle. Enchantée - “enchanted” in French.  Ties into the theme of enchantments, curses, and charms prominent in French fairy tales, and specifically makes me think of the Enchanted Rose from Beauty and the Beast.   Scharlachrot - “scarlet” in German.  References the red colour that hides the infamous green of the poison apple’s true nature.

Isle of Lamentation

Nísos Thrínos - Greek for the isle’s name. Kapnós - “smoke” in Greek.  References Hades’ iconic appearance surrounded by black smoke.

Valley of Thorns

Geimhreadh - “winter” in Irish.  References the winter court of Unseelie fae in Celtic folklore.

Port of Jubilee

Nanm - "soul” in Haiitan Creole.  References the importance of determination and drive prominent in Princess and the Frog.

Sekrè - “secret” in Haitian Creole.  References Dr Facilier’s ulterior motives.

#twisted wonderland #worldbuilding headcanons

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

left the house shattered, it hurt so bad

Title taken from the poem Left the House by Gottfried Benn, translated by Michael Hofmann.

Prompt: Hide

TMNT 2012.

(tw implied csa, implied rape, trauma, blood, injury, mental health issues, emotional manipulation, internalized victim blaming, implied child abuse, physical/emotional abuse, implied child grooming, possible suicide attempt)

You can find the whole collection on AO3 here.

There's blood on her thighs this morning.

Karai can feel it dripping down her legs as she makes her way through the house, droplets staining the floor. Her feet are still silent, but her movements are stiff and awkward as she picks her way through the house, biting her lip against the pain which flares with every step.

It's still dark out, shadows spilling through the little garden behind their house. Karai makes her way down the steps and picks through the underbrush, ignoring the roots and stones that scrape her bare feet. In the distance she can hear animals rustling and murmuring to each other, the sound drifting on the wind like ghosts.

Someone passes behind the window and Karai presses her back to a tree, biting her lip. She waits until they're gone before moving on with a deep breath, fists clenched and trembling at her sides.

Karai's not interested in running away; she would never do that to her father (she couldn't get away if she tried). But right now, she feels raw and scratched up inside, and all she wants to do is to disappear. She doesn't want to be seen by anyone: not the servants, not the guards, not even her father.

You're a woman now, her father had told her. But Karai doesn't feel like a woman. She feels very small and young and weak, and so vulnerable it hurts almost as badly as the ache between her legs. And lying in bed beside her father this morning had made everything worse, so she'd decided to leave, if only for a little while.

Her feet slap awkwardly against the glass as she fumbles through the shadow; she'd probably still sound very quiet to a normal person, but to ninja this level of noise is unacceptable. Her father would be furious at her if he was here.

But he isn't. At least, she can tell herself that, like she can't feel the ghosts of his fingers in her hair or his teeth on his neck, like she can't hear his voice interwoven with the rustling breeze. Like a part of him doesn't live under her skin, now, buried in her body until the end of the time.

She knows that that's a good thing, of course. Her father had explained to her the importance of strengthening the bond between master and student, father and daughter, leader and heir. How they needed to not just simply know each other, but feel each other, right down to the bone.

Physically speaking, it wasn't...that bad, really. She's dealt with worse battle wounds, more brutal training sessions. The pain is a bit of a bitch to deal with right now, but it won't kill her, won't even require serious medical intervention. It's really only a little worse than her period, which she finished a few days ago.

That was when I knew you were ready,  he said last night and is saying in her hands and might keep saying forever. She opens her tongue and his breath is spilling into her mouth, declarations of love and eternal fidelity, her mother's name poured into her mouth like fine wine (she doesn't understand the appeal of wine; it always seems so bitter).

Karai reaches down, rubs her finger along blood-soaked cloth. The nightgown is ruined, but her father can replace it. He can replace anything, anyone, except for her. She's special.

She lifts her finger, looks at the red glistening there. She cut herself in this very garden last week, when her father took her out to work with the plants. He does this sometimes, encouraging her to strengthen her bond with living things, to find peace in the simple act of grubbing in the soil. She'd rolled her eyes and he'd smiled, in a tender mood for once.

Now his fingerprints are written on her skin and a childish part of her doesn't want to read what they have to say, wants to pretend that the man who showed her how to tend flowers and the man who pinned her to the bed last night aren't the same. If she was softer, younger, she'd wrap herself in Shini's tales of demon possession and safely supernatural monsters (but she won’t, she won’t let her memories of Shini anywhere near what happened last night, and vice versa).

Karai sucks on her finger, tastes the sweetbitter blood. She's had blood on her hands since she was six years old, she's had broken arms and fractured ribs, she's been poisoned and starved and quite frantically tortured as part of her endurance training. And she's survived it all, because she knows that it was all meant to turn her into the soldier her father needed, the queen who would safeguard his legacy.

What happened last night will make her stronger, better. She knows this objectively, but her body is a twisting current of fear and nausea right now and objectivity is hard to come by. There's sweat trickling down her temples, in time with the blood spattered around her feet like rubies.

Karai wriggles her bare feet in the dirt and smooths her hands over her nightgown, picking at the fabric. Her father has been talking about getting her a new one, a new everything. She needs new clothes for her developing woman's body, needs a new way of living and thinking.

It's time to grow up, he'd told her last night, in the moments before her memories grew dark and hazy. You must get rid of your childish fears.

But she's still afraid now. Did it not work?

She rounds a corner and blinks, heart stuttering as something flashes in the gray morning light--but hush, hush, it's only their little pond. He's not here. And even if he was, she wouldn't be scared, she wouldn't, Karai wouldn't ever be scared of her father because she loves him so much.

I love you, he says, in her mind and in her body, in that place he will never leave again, and kisses her.  So much.  

And what can you do when someone loves you that much? How can that be wrong? How can it be wrong to be the center of someone's world, the sun that holds their universe together, and all they want to do is show you that to the best of their ability?

Her feet splash into the water and Karai blinks, pauses, looks down. Her reflection is nothing more than a blurred smear right now, shivering slightly as a few more drops of blood dance across the surface. Karai cocks her head, watching the movement splinter across the face of the pool.

She takes another step into the water, then another, watching herself descend from a distance. Maybe she is her father's sun, but right now she just needs to extinguish her light for a little while. Just a little while.

Deeper, deeper, the water sending her nightgown billowing around her legs. The blood rises up around her, like flower petals falling from below instead of below. The mud squishes beneath her toes and lotus pads bob around her head, brushing her face as with soft fingers.

Karai sucks in a deep breath and lets herself slip underwater, curling into a ball as she drifts towards the pond bed. Mud tangles in her hair and smears her face. Her legs press together, the bruises there flaring at the contact.

She can hold her breath for a while, longer than most girls her age, thanks to her father's careful training. And really, she's not planning to stay that long. Just a little while, to be tucked away from prying eyes and dark memories, from the wait of her father's adoration. Just a little while, with the water to wash her clean, or at least trick her into thinking she can be clean.

Her eyes open, and it's so dark down here. So deep. She lets the water pick her up and carry her, lets the silence hum sweetly in her ears. Easy. Easy.

The bleeding's stopped, she thinks. She's safe.

(She's on the shore, coughing up water, the trail of her blood glistening on the grass like a brand. Her father is shaking her and screaming, wild with fury and terror, so loud her head hurts. She wants to say sorry, but all she can offer is her vomit and her tears.

A small, quiet part of Karai is disappointed, but she'll make sure her father never knows that).

#tmnt #angstpril #angstpril2022 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tw past noncon #victim blaming #internalized victim blaming #tw suicide attempt #suicide attempt #mental health issues #tw mental health #tw blood #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw physical abuse #tw emotional manipulation #karai #oroku karai #hamato miwa #oroku saki #shredder #tw csa mention #tw sui ideation #tw child abuse #tw child grooming #gottfried benn

[eugenesmorphine]

Hiii, can I request something of Ronald Speirs and maybe a German girl that was found in the eagle’s nest or some abandoned buildings just like that?😊 it just come through my mind haha

Happy holiday💕💕

Seeking Refuge // Ronald Speirs Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @ricksmorty @punkgeekcryptid @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @valterras @adamantiumdragonfly

Word Count: 3,036

    Ronald walked the edge of the destroyed practically destroyed Nazi base. The crunching of the snow beneath his Army Issued boots. His firearm held tight;y within his beaten and calloused fingers. The face paint slicked onto his cheeks as he kept a stern eye. Nazi prisoners walking past them in a long line, their hands up above their heads. Stripped of any weapons and any valuables. A cigarette balanced between his lips. The nicotine slipped down his throat. It was calming things for him.

    Peering in rooms, searching around for any Intel. Any prisoners. Really anything to be honest. It was a large base. Multiple large buildings with bunches of small buildings here and there. Soldiers searched all the buildings. Shuffling with papers needed to be translated, snagging things of value of course. Flags, medals, maybe even some pieces of clothing from the prisoners taken and or from the dead that lay around.

   Ronald had sat within a building, his feet propped up on the desk in front of him, picking his teeth with a toothpick. His weapon lay on his lap, and his helmet rested on the same old, and beaten wooden desk. Humming to himself, enjoying the small moment of somewhat relaxation. Watching the paratroopers of all types of ranks bustled in and out of the building. The commanding officers stayed within the building, making it their headquarters. 

   Papers began to pile up, Soldiers coming in to report what the new POWs had told them. Everything was going rather smoothly. It made Ronald a little uneasy. Nothing for these paratroopers ever went easy for them it seemed. And of course, that uneasy feeling seemed to be true when Liebgott, Martin, Perconte and Randleman all came in to stand in front of the officers. The Captain stood and looked to the men. Raising an eyebrow. 

  “Sir, there is only one last building that has yet to be searched. But we believe there could be some Krauts in there, sir. Men have reported some banging around, some footsteps. We were in need of an officer to be present, sir,” Martin spoke up. Standing at attention of course, along with the rest of the men. Speirs crossed his arms over his chest, as much as he didn’t want to get up, he was going to. It was his job after all.

   “All right, let’s head over there then to get it done and over with. We need to get on the move soon anyways,” he responded, Already beginning to make his way past the men. The small group already followed his lead.

///

   The old German home the small squad approached was just as worn down and partially destroyed as the others. It was quiet, just like the rest of the town. That was merely a ghost town without the American Military within it.

   Speirs took a few steps forward, approaching the front door. “Have you men even been within this home yet?” he asked. Turning to look back over his shoulder at the four paratroopers. All of them shaking their heads. Making the officer scoff slightly and carrying on walking within the building, stepping through the doorway. The old house smelled of mildew and was damp all around the inside. The rainstorms had definitely gotten to this home over it’s time of use. The old furniture matched the disarray of the home. Chairs knocked over. A small table broken to pieces. Shattered plates and cups spreading across the floor and crunching beneath their boots. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen something like this. The German’s had no care in the world what they did to people’s belongings. Especially within the smaller German cities. They took what they wanted. Valuables, women, lives. Anything. And if they didn’t want it, they merely destroyed it.

   Ronald picked up a few silver spoons and forks that spread across the creaky, wooden floorboards of the home. Stuffing them in his bag. He never could turn down some more silver to send back home. Sticky fingers of course. Continuing to search the one floor home. It wasn’t too big, and it wasn’t too small either. It was a good family home, and Ronald imagined what it would look like if it was still normal. No broken furniture, or shattered plates and cups. A happy family merely walking around and enjoying a nice meal at the table. It was something Ronald secretly always did. Imagine what life within these towns and cities would be like if there was no war. What he would do if there was no war. Where would he be?

   Ronald and the men were all pulled out of their thoughts and searching when a crash of a pot shattering rang from the basement below. All of their heads snapping to the worn, wooden door that was the only thing that could possibly lead to the basement below. Ronald’s eyes narrowed at the door as he motioned for the men to move up. Liebgott took point and made his way towards the door. Pointing his firearm down at the door. Reaching for the doorknob slowly. His hand only centimetres away.

    Leibgott didn’t even get a chance to grab the doorknob, the door flew open and a woman came out screaming. A knife within her grasp. “Fahr zur Hölle, ihr Nazis!” (Go to hell, you Nazis.) She screamed. Knocking Joe right off his feet and slashing his bicep with the knife. Randleman jumped to action and grabbed onto her. Wrapping her arms around her stomach and hoisting her up and yanking her back. Bull fell back against a small table causing the rest of whatever else was on it to fall and crash onto the ground. The woman kicked and screamed while Joe stood and pressed a hand on the new gash on his arm. Ronald went and snatched the knife from her hand and threw it to the side.

   “What is she saying, Leib? Gah! Calm down, woman!” Martin yelled, while Ronald went to help Joe stand and grab a random cloth and pressing it against his arm.

   “She thinks we are the Germans,” Joe grunted. Looking towards the H/C woman. Approaching her and watching her heave within the arms of Randleman. “Wir sind Amerikaner, keine Nazis,” (We are Americans, not Nazis). Showing the American flag patch on his arm. 

   Ronald watched as her emotions changed greatly. Staring through the mess of her hair as she panted. “Put me down. I have no more weapons, I will comply now,” the German woman spoke through a heavy accent. Everyone fell silent for a moment. The junior enlisted and NCOs turned towards their Captain for an answer. Ronald thought for a moment and stared at the woman who seemingly relaxed. His eyes meeting hers. He could almost read her with just the look on her face and her eyes.

    Her skin was pale, skinnier than she should’ve been. Bruised littered her arms and legs. Her dress was torn and worn down greatly. “Let her go, she needs to go to Doc Roe. Maybe she could give us some information,” he stated. Watching as Bull placed her down gently. She wobbled slightly.

   “I’m sorry I cut you, I thought you were the Gestapo. I will give you the little food and medical supplies I have left,” she offered. Her hands folding in front of her. Joe looked down at her and shook his head. He was frustrated, he always had a short temper. But he cooled down.

   “It is fine,” he trailed off. He noticed a familiar symbol that rested on a necklace around her neck. A silver Star of David. “You are Jewish? I am too,” he told her. The woman just nodded as they began to walk out.

   “How long have you been hiding there?” asked Ronald. He was amazed she held up that long. How the Germans never looked into that basement. The flats she wore were practically worn away. 

  “I stopped counting after about a month, they never saw me there. And when they searched the basement when they first showed up, I hid in a crawl space my father had made for me when the entirety of the Gestapo began to go around Germany. And when they raided my town, my parents sent me down there. I heard them be taken away, and I hid and stayed quiet. They never found me,” she spoke very quietly. It made her voice harder to understand in a way due to her accent. They all merely listened as they walked. “And when you soldiers came into this home again, I heard all the gunfire, and I thought you guys lost against them. So when I heard footsteps, I knocked that pot over. I thought I was done for. The only weapon I had was that old knife my father gave me,” she paused for a moment. “I would rather die fighting then to be sent where the rest of the Jews in this area went,” the young woman finished.

///

   Ronald and the men brought her to Doc who got the small wounds she had and treated them carefully. Along with Leib’s arm wound. Ronald turned and his heart nearly softened at the sight of her. It was clear she knew what really happened to her parents. And now she was alone in this big world. “Martin, run and get her some food. Try to get some warm grub,” he told the NCO that stood besides him. Martin merely nodded with a quick ‘Yes, sir’ and ran off to get her some food. Going to stand in front of the woman while Roe still wrapped up one of her ankles.

   “So, what is your name?” he asked. No matter what Ronald Speirs said, or how he said it, he just seemed too intimidating. To anyone really. But the young woman didn’t seem fazed by it at all. He understood it though. She had probably been through, and seen things, more than anyone could ever understand, or even think of in that matter.

  “Y/N. My name is Y/N L/N,” she answered tiredly. A steaming cup of coffee within her hand. He watched as she slowly brought it to her lips and tilted it back. It was freezing this time of year, and all she wore was a torn dress and some flats. “You know, I never did like coffee all that much. I usually tea, but this American coffee is just so warm, it is perfect,” Y/N spoke with a chuckle. And without even thinking, the Paratrooper officer began to pull off his field jacket. 

  “Here, take this for now. I can probably get you some warmer clothes,” Ronald said as he gently draped the jacket around her shoulders. It seemed rather bigger on her no doubt. The young woman was frail, not dangerously skinny, but clear to the eyes that she was definitely underweight.

   Y/N hugged the jacket around her body. Looking back up at Spiers. “Thank you. You Americans are so kind to me. I am still very sorry for attacking one of your men,” She stood and walked in front of Ronald. “I am at service to you men, I might be able to help you on where the Germans are and are going to. I believe they have a base just a few miles from here,” Y/N offered. Ronald merely just nodded. 

   “That sounds good, but why don’t we find you a place to rest first. We are going to be stationed in this town for a little while. I can get you situated where the rest of the officers are staying,” Ronald responded, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “You can talk to our officer in charge, Major Winter,” he told her. 

   Y/N just nodded. “That will be fine, should we head over now?” she asked quietly. Her eyes batted at Ronald, her face was tired and you could almost see the sadness she hid just sitting within her eyes. It made Ronald feel something he thought he would never feel for a long time. Remorse.

   Ronald nodded and turned on his heels quickly to face away from her. He couldn’t let emotions end up getting in the way of the mission. But, this was different. Was it? Or was he actually feeling for the young female he had just met. Something about her, even though meeting her just a few hours ago, made her stick to him almost. He just tried to push away the feelings all together, or the thoughts. 

///

   Speirs had gotten Y/N within the officer’s HQ, finding an empty room. It wasn’t much. An old, rickety bed with a thin mattress. It wasn’t much, but with a few extra blankets he had found for her, it would make a halfway decent room until they could find Y/N a way to get into a new city to start over.

    Y/N entered the room and looked around. “This was the Rabbi’s home,” she spoke up. Sitting on the bed. “It is a shame I’ll never see them again.” it shocked Ronald at how calm she was saying those words. Her eyes were still soft and sad as she smoothed out her skirt. A sigh escaping her dry and cracked lips.

   “How do you know you won’t ever see him again, or the rest of your family?” Ronald asked. Everyone had heard about the work camps. But nothing really solid. But Y/N seemed to understand at least one thing that came out of them. Evil.

  “We weren’t the first ones to be deported from here. First they took the foreign Jews. Some were excited to go, but then we realized that they weren’t coming back after seven months. There were rumors that the Hitler had ordered his soldiers to kill them all. And some rumors that they were just working within factories. But when they came to gather the rest of us, it was different. Forcing us out of our homes, pushing and shoving men and women. I watched a woman be hit by the butt of some soldier’s gun. And then a few boys I knew, they were only about nineteen. Making them just four years younger than me, they fought back against a few of the Nazi soldiers. Merely just shoving them. And they shot them. Without hesitation,” taking a shaking breath, she looked back up to Ronald. “We know now that whenever a Jew goes with the Nazis. They aren’t coming back,” she whispered.

    Ronald, a man of harshness and lacking the ability to show emotions in a time like this for a civilian. He didn’t exactly know how to respond. He just watched her facial expressions change as she told him the truths of what she saw. And after a few minutes of just silence, Ronald slowly placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

   “We had prayed you Americans would come. And at least you did now. I think I would freeze to death if I stayed in that basement another week,” she commented. Ronald just nodded and still didn’t have anything to say to her. “Thank you, Captain Speirs. Thank you for your men’s services,” her eyes were soft, and a smile soon appeared on her lips. It was the first time he saw her smile, and Ronald would never forget it. She was pretty. More than pretty, but Ronald just couldn’t find the right word to call it. Even covered in dirt and sweat. 

   “It.. don’t worry about it,” he said with a nod. “Why don’t you get some rest, we can get you some chow- I mean some hot food in a little while,” he offered. And Y/N merely just nodded. Picking up the blankets and getting beneath it all and rolling onto her side. Hearing one final yawn come from the woman before finally falling asleep. 

   Ronald stood there in the doorway for a few minutes. Making sure she had actually fallen asleep. That was until Major Winters came and placed a hand on Speirs’ shoulder. Making the Captain turn to look at him. 

   “Sir,” he said with a nod. Winters returned the nod then went back to the sleeping female. 

   “So what is the deal with this civilian?” Winters asked. Ronald turned back to the sleeping female. A part of him didn’t want to see her go, and he was kicking himself for it. A small shrug he gave as he took a moment to think.

  “She seems to have a lot of information. About the camps, the German forces, even about a base nearby. She is fluent in German and English. In my personal opinion, sir, I think she could be a good help to us,” pausing for a minute to collect himself and place himself in check for a moment. “Then bring her to a refuge center, hospital, or something. There isn’t anything left of this town. And she says her family is most definitely dead,” he added.

   Winters just nodded slightly, and a quiet chuckle fell from his lips. Causing a confused look from the officer that stood besides him. “If you believe that is what we must do, we will do it. Just never see you to be soft,” he said with a pat on his shoulder. Ronald’s eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened, wanting to defend himself. To which Major Winters just shook his head slightly, and Ronald closed his mouth. Turning his head away in slight embarrassment. “I won’t say anything, but we’ll take good care of her. You can’t be all tough all the time. I knew you would feel soft for someone eventually,” he snickered. Turning on his heels to walk away from the room.

   While shaking his head, Ronald turned back to the woman sleeping in front him. Waiting for Winter’s boots to fade completely. A sigh he made while watching Y/N breathe within her sleep. “Damn,” was all he said. Staring down at the floor then rubbing his face quickly. Looking at the woman once more before turning around and just walking off. Letting her sleep and wanting to figure out how to get himself out of the rut he had placed himself in.

    One that made his heart skip a beat.

#ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs #hbo #HBO Series #hbo imagine #hbo war #hbo war imagines #band of brothers meme #band of brothers #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader

[luwupercal]

it's like 30 minutes past warhammer oc wednesday here but since I was JUST doing stupid translations of a rick astley song in her language:

primarch Ankheserethes and his insectoid xeno ex-gf, Kkuze̋k. he learned how to speak her language the best he could (it's best spoken with mandibles and the closest approximation you can get to his name is Ekueti̋z or perhaps Ekuedi̋z. Thinking about it, maybe you'd get somewhere with Eke̋zudi̋z. You get the point)

They dated during Ankhe's space roadtrip phase as a sort of experiment into whether Ankhe was interested in dating at all (answer turned out to be no) but they're still friends after the breakup. Kkuze̋k has spawn at some point and PLEASE imagine a (probably literal) million little grubs making fun of a primarch for the way he snaps his teeth when talking to their mom, since he doesn't have mandibles to click

if you're gonna try dating, you might as well try dating a giant insect. i think frank kafka said this once

what sort of insect is she actually i don't think i've ever asked. like is she more like... (pulls up wikipedia)... blattodea, mantodea, phasmatodea, or are we dealing with some eumetabola kinda stuff, like are we doing coleoptera, is she a true bug. i swear to god i'm genuinely curious

that said RIP to ankhe's reputation amongst eke̋zudi̋z's family, i can only imagine getting made fun of by (owl city voice) 10 thousand lightning bugs🎶 would sting a little even for mr. death grips enjoyer here

#ask #ii-and-the-sun #warhammer oc wednesday

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma [Brute Ending]

ー The scene starts with a dream of a younger Yuma in the city

Bear: ...I’m starving...Boss is late today. ...Don’t tell me something happened to him!?

Hey, oi!

Comrade A: Hm? What’s wrong, Bear?

Bear: ...Where did you get that bread?

Comrade B: What do you mean? We got it from Boss like always.

Bear: Boss returned? When?

Comrade A: Ages ago. He already handed everyone their grub.

Bear: When did he...?

Comrade B: Aah, I see. I guess it only makes sense you wouldn’t know, Bear.

Bear: Eh?

Comrade B: You’re a heartless traitor who left their comrades for death after all.

Bear: ...!?

ー Yuma appears in place of his younger self

Comrade A: Yeah...Exactly.

It hurt so much...My whole body had been shot to shreds and the blood just kept on gushing out...

Comrade B: You were lucky to die an instant death. Meanwhile I was still breathing when they threw me into the incinerator, you know...?

Comrade A: Bear, what were you doing while we were suffering, huh?

Comrade B: You obtained an immortal body, and were munching down on some sweet sugar, weren’t you?

Yuma: ...Wait! Iーー!

Comrade A: Owen died after being shot through the head.

Comrade B: Jan was publicly executed (1) after they shot him in the leg.

Comrade A: Victor got crushed underneath the tank.

Comrade B: And Lucksーー

Yuma: Stop!!

Lucks: ーー Bear!

Yuma: ...! Boss...!

Lucks: I’ve heard the rumors! You’re immortal now, aren’t you? Way to go!

You’ll obviously inherit my dream, right? If you can’t die, you’ve got all the time in the world!

Say, what happened to the world? Has our country become a little more decent?

Yuma: That’s...

Lucks: ...Have you not been doing anything? Even though you were the sole survivor, and the only one of us who is alive to this day?

Yuma: ...!

Lucks: Oh, I see...You’re no longer Bear anymore after all. Right...’Yuma’?

Comrade A: Traitor.

Yuma: ...I’m not!

Comrade B: You are a traitor, Yuma.

Yuma: Cut it out! I didn’t betray anyone!!

Lucks: ...

Yuma: ...Boss...Please stop...!!

Lucks: ーー Traitor.

ー The dream ends as Yuma wakes up in his room

Yuma: Hah...! ...Haah...Haah...

...Fuck...! The fuck kind of dream was that...

There’s no way those guys, or Boss would ever say those kinda things...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Pwah...

( I was doing my homework and suddenly it’s this late. I better head to bed soon, or I won’t be able to wake up tomorrow. )

*Thud*

Yui: ( That sound just now...It came from the kitchen? Who could it be this late at night? )

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

*Rustle*

Yui: ( That backside... )

Yuma-kun.

Yuma: ...!

...The fuck? Oh, it’s ya...

Yui: What are you doing there at this hour?

Yuma: ...Can’t ya tell? I’m hungry.

Yui: In the middle of the night? Did you not have enough at dinner time?

Yuma: ...That’s not it. Just leave me alone!

Yui: ( ...Seems like he’s in a bad mood. I suppose it would be best to just give him some alone time. )

Okay. But don’t overeat, okay?

Well, good...

*Rustle*

Yui: night...!?

*Thud*

Yui: Ow...

Yuma-kun! It’s dangerous to suddenly pull me close like that!?

Yuma: Shut up! Just shut up.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Yuma-kun?

Yuma: ...

Yui: ( He buried his face in my shoulder... )

What’s wrong? Did something happen...?

Yuma: Nothin’...

Yui: ( This doesn’t seem like ‘nothing’... )

Yuma: ...

Yui: Say, Yuma-kuーー

Yuma: ...Don’t call me that!!

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah...!

*THUD*

Yuma: ...Che...!

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: ( Yuma-kun...? )

Monologue

Ever since that day, slowly. 

Yuma-kun began to behave,

in a strange way.

During the time he would usually be sound asleep,

he would wander around the manor,

as if he was searching all over for something,

I could hear dull thuds.

As if he was hanging between life and death by a fine thread,

he would often make grim expressions,

all life sucked out of his eyes.

“My old comrades have been appearing in my dreams. 

They are covered in blood, talking to me

with a glare on their faces.”

When he whispered those words to me,

I finally realized,

that he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in days.

He just sounded so weak and fragile.

The self-blame he piled on over the long time

between the death of his friends and the present.

I can only assume that is responsible,

for giving him those horribly cruel dreams.

I comforted him time after time. 

Trying to somehow get rid of the darkness within him.

Howeverーー

ー The scene shifts to Yuma’s room

*SHATTER*

Yui: Ugh...!

Yuma: Haah...Haah...

Yui: Everything will be okay...Yuma-kun...

Yuma: No...I’m not Yuma...I’m...I’m...

I’m Bear, and there’s also Owen, Jan, Victor, Lucks...!

Yui: Yuma-kun...Snap out of it...

Yuma: Yuma...?

Stop...Don’t call me...

...that name!!!

*THUD*

Yui: Uu...!

ー Yui falls over

*Thud*

Yui: ...Ah...

...

*Thud*

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Ruki: ...You’re awake? How are you feeling?

Yuma: Yeah, not bad.

Ruki: Did you head outside?

Yuma: It rained yesterday, right? That’s why.

Ruki: ...How is she?

Yuma: Gonna go check up on her now.

No need to worry. I’ll make sure to look after her.

Can’t let that one wither after all.

Ruki: ...

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s room

Yuma: Yo...My bad, I’m a lil’ late.

We had a pretty bad downpour yesterday, so I went to check on the garden first.

But that’s a lost cause.

It had already become a withered mess, but after yesterday’s rain, the last ones standing died as well.

Guess it can’t be helped. I’ve got my hands full lookin’ after ya after all.

ー He leans down

Yuma: Come on...Here’s today’s dose.

Nn...Che, they’ve become dry again. Guess I gotta be mindful of too much sunlight as well.

Guess tonight...Hehe, I gotta stock ya up on plenty of nutrients, huh?

I’ve heard that plants are sentient even though they can’t move or talk, ya see...

I wonder...If ya can hear my voice too? Aahn?

Must be torture to want to plead, yet finding yerself unable to, huh? ...Hehe.

I’ll treasure ya more than ever...

So you don’t wither...

*Knock knock*

Ruki: ‘Bear’, we should get going soon.

Bear: Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec.

See ya, Sow. Ya better bathe in the light again today...and grow up nice and strong...Hehe.

ー Yuma leaves

Ruki: ...

ー Ruki leaves the room as well

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) They also specify that he was hung to death.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumaending3

[vajranam]

Kurukulla

KURUKULLA

The Dakini of Magic and Enchantments

One Buddhist Dakini originating from the country of Uddiyana is the goddess Kurukulla. The name Kurukulla is translated into Tibetan as Rigjyedma (rig-byed-ma), “she who is the cause knowledge.” She is associated with a king of Uddiyana named Indrabhuti. In a sadhana text attributed to her for the red Kurukulla in her eight-armed form. But whether she had eight arms or four arms, she is generally known as the Uddiyana Kurukulla. Most modern scholars believe this indicates that Kurukulla was originally a tribal goddess, much like the Hindu goddess Durga had been in India, who later, because of her popularity, became associated with the Buddhist great goddess Tara. For this reason, Kurukulla is often called the Red Tara (sgrol-ma dmar-po) or Tarodbhava Kurukulla, “the Kurukulla who arises from Tara.”

Kurukulla appears to have become popular originally, and she remains so even among the Tibetans today, because of her association with the magical function of enchantment (dbang gi ‘phrin-las) or the bewitching of people in order to bring them under one’s power (dbang du bsdud). More than any other figure in the Buddhist pantheon, Kurukulla becomes the Buddhist goddess of love and sex, corresponding to the Western gooddesses Aphrodite and Venus. She is depicted as a voluptuous and seductive nude sixteen year old girl. Among the attributes she holds in her four hands, four arms being her most common manifestation, are the flower-entwined bow and arrow, reminiscent of the Western Eros and Cupid, although as the goddess of witchcraft, she is more akin to Diana.

It may appear strange to us that Buddhism, originally the religion of celibate monks, should give birth to this attractive and seductive sex goddess. Buddhism as a spiritual path is ultimately concerned with enlightenment and liberation from Samsara. This ultimate goal is known as the supreme attainment or siddhi (mchog gi dngos-grub). But not all Buddhist practitioners are celibate monks living in semi-permanent meditation retreat isolated from the world.

Like everyone else, Buddhists must deal with the practical circumstances of life and society. Sadhana or deity invocation is a meditation and ritual practice where the practitioner in meditation assumes the aspect or form of the deity, who is regarded as a manifestation of the enlightened awareness of the Buddha, and then invokes the spiritual powers and wisdom and capacities of that particular deity as an aid to realizing liberation and enlightenment. In Deity sadhana practice, or in one’s meditation practice, the archetypal form of the deity is considered a particularly powerful method to accelerate spiritual evolution. The meditation image of the deity visualized by the practitioner in sadhana, being an archetype or manifestation of enlightened awareness, and this radiant image opens a channel and acts as a receptacle for receiving the grace or blessings of the Buddha for a specific purpose. The process of visualization in meditation is a method of accessing and focusing spiritual energy, like using the lens of a magnifying glass to focus the rays of the sun in order to kindle a fire. The image of the deity is something that is concrete and accessible to human consciousness. In his own nature as the Dharmakaya, the Buddha is beyond conception by the finite human mind. The meditation deity, however, makes the unmanifest manifest and therefore accessible to consciousness. In the same way, Christians might have visions of angels that might make the grace of God manifest, but in Buddhism there are both male and female meditation deities, and Kurukulla is certainly an example of the latter.

The psychic powers developed through sadhana practice are known as ordinary attainments or siddhis (thun-mong gi dngos-grub)

Sadhana texts speak of the four magical actions or magics:

1. White magic or Shantika-karma (zhi-ba’i ‘phrin-las) has the function of calming and pacifying conditions and healing. White Tara is an example of a deity that specifically has this white function.

2. Yellow Magic or Paushtika-karma (rgyas-pa’i phrin-las) has the function of increasing wealth, prosperity, abundance, merit, knowledge, and so on. Vasundahara and Jambhala are examples of deities with these functions. Hence they are yellow in color.

3. Red Magic or Vashya-karma (dbang gi phrin-las) has the function of bringing people under one’s power, of enchanting, bewitching, attracting, subjugating, magnetizing them. This is the primary function of Kurukulla and hence her red color.

4. Black Magic or Raudra-karma (drag-po’i phrin-las) has the function of destroying evil and obstructions to the spiritual path. This is the specific function of many wrathful manifestations such as the Dakini Simhamukha who is dark blue in color.

These four functions are allotted to the four gates of the mandala palace, namely, the white or pacifying function in the east, the yellow or increasing function in the south, the red or enchanting function in the west, and the black or destroying function in the north. With each of these four magical functions there exists an elaborate system of correspondences. The scientific world-view, which admits mechanistic causality as the only possible natural cause of events. Magic principally relates to our dimension of energy, and this energy, according to the traditional way of thinking, is intermediate between the mental and the physical, just as the soul is intermediate between the spirit and the flesh. Ritual is simply one way to access and direct energy. Although mind or spirit is primary, the other dimensions of energy or soul and body are important.

Where we find sadhana or theurgy, that is, high magic, we also find low magic or goetia, that is, common witchcraft. In the Tibetan view, these practices are not necessarily black, no more sinister than finding lucky numbers for betting on the horses, or making love potions or amulets for protection, and so on. For these common practices of folk magic, it is not even necessary to enter into meditation and transform oneself into the deity. Nevertheless, Kurukulla is also the patron of such activities. She is pre-eminently the Buddhist Goddess of Witchcraft and Enchantment. In a real sense, she represents the empowerment of the feminine in a patriarchal milieu. one might invoke Kurukulla to aid accomplishment wishes on their ambitions. Tibetans take a very clear-eyed and practical view of life, without sentimentalizing spirituality. The Tibetan do not rigidly separate this world, with its practical concerns, from the world of the spirit.

Just as Tara in her usual green form may be called upon by Buddhists to protect them from various dangers and threats, in particular the eight great terrors and the sixteen fears, so in her red form as Kurukulla, she may be called upon to exercise her powers of enchantment and bewitchment to bring under her power (dbang du bsdud) those evil spirits, demons, and humans who work against the welfare of humanity and its spiritual evolution.

However, in terms of practical magic, she can bring under the practitioner’s power a personal enemy, a boss, a politician, a policeman, or a recalcitrant lover, male or female... In Tibet, Kurukulla was also called upon when commencing the building of a new monastery, Kurukulla, who subjugate the demonic and the human forces that stand in one’s way

Photo: One of Kurukulla’s mandalas with five colours of Dakini

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #self care #zen #visualization #tibet

[yeonchi]

Kisekae Insights #24: GJ Club - how a spinon became a spinoff featuring Kyōya and Kasumi Shinomiya

(Art by 結城辰也)

The Kisekae Insights series has allowed me to bring the spotlight back on Waifu Network animes that I haven’t posted much about in the past due to lack of fanart or lack of interest. Like Hidamari Sketch in the last instalment, GJ Club will be no exception until I continue posting the usual content in my anime posts. Honestly, it was good while it lasted.

While Hidamari Sketch is a fairly popular and notable anime, GJ Club, sadly, isn’t. The anime was adapted from the light novel series written by Shin Araki and it only received one 12-episode season in 2013 and an OVA in 2014. Since it is a slice-of-life series, not much is known about the characters’ histories, which made it very easy to adapt into my personal project. All these factors coinciding with it being the 50th anniversary year of Doctor Who made GJ Club the perfect anime to adapt and expand on.

Background information

For some reason, the light novel has been a bit hard to find. In short, while you are able to read it online, the sources are unfortunately scarce.

From 2013 to 2015, NanoDesu Translations posted translations of the light novel. They published a PDF and EPUB of the first volume (which is available on archive.org) and translated up to Chapter 17 of the second volume. It was then abandoned for two years before Haraguro Scanlations picked it up. As of September 2018, they only finished up to Chapter 3 of the third volume (with the first chapter being translated by Shadowys on Baka-Tsuki) and there are no further updates after that, with the exception of a one-off chapter released in November 2020.

As of August 2021, however, all the original translations by NanoDesu seem to have been deleted from their site. All the translations are available on AsiaNovel, but there are no illustrations because the reader doesn’t seem to support images. If the images weren’t discarded in the code of the novels, then all they would need to do is add support for them and then they would appear.

There are 9 volumes and two special volumes for GJ Club along with 8 volumes and a special volume for its middle school spinoff. It’s honestly telling how popular the series was when the translators have all but abandoned it.

Shin Araki also wrote an additional spinoff to GJ Club, namely GE: Good Eater, and a sequel, namely KB Club. GE is set in a fantasy world with the characters being based off the characters of GJ Club, while KB Club turns everything meta by having both series be the creations of a high school light novel club, with the characters of GJ Club being based off the members of said club, right down to their names. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of that approach given how I’ve adapted GJ Club into my personal project. In the end, I guess we’ll never really know what happens in the novels, but at least we have this.

Watching the anime and listening to the character music was how I first realised that anime was sexist to males because of the female-centric focus in most animes. Kyōya only gets one character song in the series, and even then it’s a duet with Megumi. If that isn’t sexist to you, then I don’t know how I can convince you that a lot of animes are sexist.

In January 2015, I published two posts outlining my idea for an English dub of the series that also fits with GJ Club’s depiction in my personal project. The setting would be changed to London, England, specifically the areas of Chiswick, Ealing and Acton (where their school is located) and the characters would speak with British accents. The images in the original post are dead because I idiotically copied the images from the site instead of saving and reuploading them to the post, but since I’m grubbing for content anyway, I’m going to repost my character details as follows:

Kyōya: The protagonist of the series. When he started Year 10, he was kidnapped by the girls when he walked into an old school building, hoping to find the Culture Club. He moved to London from Manchester just before he started Year 7. His best friend outside the club is someone named Tesshin Yokomizo (横溝徹心) who is a local and not seen in the anime. In the GJ Club, he is nicknamed “Kyoro” and despite his spinelessness, he seems to have talent in dealing with the girls around him. His birthday is December 18. Due to a crisis involving his family during his childhood, he and his sister Kasumi were left in the care of a family guardian just before they moved to London, but she left when Kyōya started Year 10. It might have been that childhood incident that emotionally scarred him and left him spineless…

Mao: The Year 11 president of the GJ Club. Her family is rich and they live in a mansion in Ealing. She has a habit of biting and picking on Kyōya when she is bored or angry. She always reads books and watches shows without kissing scenes.

Shion: The only daughter in her family, Shion is an expert chess player with many brothers, all experts in some kind of activity. She speaks in a Birmingham (Brummie) accent because her mother and a few of her brothers were born in Birmingham. It is unknown if Shion was born in Birmingham herself.

Megumi: The calm and nice middle sister of the Amatsuka family. She likes knitting and she is always seen making tea and cakes in the club room. In the same year level as Kyōya.

Kirara: Born in Swansea, Wales, Kirara is the tallest and strongest member of the club. She speaks English in simple, monotone sentences. Welsh is her first language. Kirara can be seen eating meat, sometimes sharing it with Kyōya, but not with anyone else. She is afraid of spiders and has little tolerance to alcohol.

Tamaki: (voiced by Karen Gillan!) The newest member of the GJ Club when Kyōya becomes a Year 11 student. Like Kyōya, she is kidnapped and forced to join the club. Her nickname is “Tama”. Her family is from Glasgow and they run a Shinto shrine in Acton. She has several younger siblings.

Kasumi: Kyōya’s younger sister, who was born in Manchester. After a visit to the GJ Club, she becomes inspired to start a middle school division when she starts Year 7. She has a brother complex and she mistook Mao for being a primary school student when she met her. Her proficiency in Welsh is better than her brother’s, who can probably speak at a beginner level.

Geraldine: Shortened to “Jill”. She moved to Chiswick from Swansea to be with her sister, Kirara. She first met Kyōya at Ealing Broadway Station when she had difficulty buying a Tube ticket. She didn’t really understand how to use the ticket machine, so Kyōya went to help her. After this, Jill considered Kyōya her “samurai master”. Jill doesn’t speak English fluently, so she relies on her whiteboard to communicate with the others. She is as strong as her sister and she joins Kasumi’s GJ Club when she starts Year 7 in Chiswick.

Seira: The youngest sister of the Amatsuka family. Though she speaks in a typical London accent, she sometimes talks through her cat clip in Received Pronunciation (the Queen’s English/RP) using ventriloquism to state her true feelings to Kyōya, who she has a grudge against.

Mori: The maid of the Amatsuka family. She likes to ride a motorcycle.  A running gag is her twirling before Kyōya much to his pleasure and annoyance to the rest of the club members. Sometimes, her mother takes her place without the family even noticing due to their identical appearance.

Kyōya, Kasumi and Momoka: The Brother, the Child and the Yandere

Normally in previous instalments, I would have described each character separately, but because their backstories are heavily intertwined, I will introduce them all at once in this section. Most of the backstory takes place around the Battle of Koshi Castle in December 2013 and during the Manchester Campaign of 2005-2013, which I have already covered in #15.

When Hiroki Ichigo’s twelfth incarnation was killed at Koshi Castle, he managed to escape in his TARDIS, where he regenerated into his new prototype, namely a four-year-old Kyōya. The TARDIS crashes outside North Manchester General Hospital on 11 December 2005.

Earlier, Hiroki and Akari’s gametes (along with those of Hiroki’s brothers and their families) were taken by Reona Yukawa and placed in the Progenitor so that they could breed super-soldiers out of them. When Takumi Kamijō and Kyōko Sakura manage to escape from their cells (saving Nodoka Manabe and Azusa Nakano in the process), he changes the destination of the baby about to be released into the Progenitor’s time portal. That baby was Kasumi, one of the super-soldiers grown from Hiroki and Akari’s DNA. She ended up at the same hospital as well and was about to be taken home by a couple when Girl Power killed them, resulting in Kasumi being taken by Akari and Shaun.

What remained of Hiroki was contacted by the spirit of Walpurgisnacht. Making a deal with her, Hiroki regenerated into his thirteenth incarnation, the female Momoka Mizutani. No, Momoka is not an OC for GJ Club, but she is based on the character of Apple Lam Chung-yan from the TVB drama A Great Way to Care II, played by Tavia Yeung. Momoka takes Hiroki’s TARDIS and heads to Salford, where with the help of Walpurgisnacht, she establishes a cha chaan teng café in the middle of a trading estate and hires a group of red drone Daleks as her workers, hiding their identities by having them disguise themselves as humans.

Over the next eight years, Momoka gets close to the new Shinomiya family by influencing them through Kyōya’s dreams to come to her café. Eight years later, on 11 December 2013, the Fourth and Fifth Doctors come in with their companions. When the Shinomiya family come in, a confrontation with Ayaka Kikuchi and her army ensues before Momoka transmats the Shinomiya family to a Dalek spaceship, where she prepares to execute them using the Yashio’ori. However, the Yashio’ori is sabotaged by the enemy army so that the laser beam would not charge.

As Ayaka and her army attack the Dalek ship, Momoka uses the Dalek-enhanced machine guns to fend them off. While two Doctors confront the Master, Momoka is killed by Girl Power officers, resulting in Walpurgisnacht taking over her body as she regenerates, maintaining her current appearance. Read #15 to find out what happens after this.

Once the Battle of Koshi Castle and the Manchester Campaign conclude, the Fourth Doctor helps Kyōya and Kasumi move to Chiswick in 2008. Five years later, the events of the GJ Club anime take place. During his time in Chiswick, Kyōya gets a job at the post office there and later, studies a double degree in Japanese Studies and Politics at SOAS in the University of London while also learning Cantonese, Mandarin and Welsh in weekend and evening courses (apparently he also wanted to learn Taiwanese but they weren’t running any courses, but that’s alright, he can always learn it somewhere else, which he presumably did).

On a side note, I volunteered myself to be Kyōya’s English voice actor, so I’ve practiced my Mancunian accent by watching actors like Christopher Eccleston, Stephen Tompkinson, Karl Pilkington and maybe a bit of Peter Kay as well. The only problem was that I’m not even sure that my accent is even Manc because I can’t tell if I’m getting it wrong and sounding like someone from Liverpool, Yorkshire, Newcastle or even Scotland. Oh well, that’s what happens when you really get into things.

I don’t buy expansion packs, I make my own (budget allowing)

So as I said, GJ Club only got one season and an OVA to go with it. Do Kyōya and the GJ Club make further appearances in the series? You bet your ass they do.

After being absent for much of the Next Gen Series in 2014, Kyōya and Kasumi receive a letter from their aunt, Narutaki, asking to meet in Hong Kong after their mother, Akari, went missing following the Siege of Ōsaka, only to be followed by Mao and the rest of the GJ Club, who learnt where he was going and managed to get on the same flight as them.

Narutaki, who had taken her Girl Power friends and established a rogue faction separate from the main group, takes the GJ Club to Nijō Castle, where she explains the background behind the Manchester Campaign and the events of Series 8 and 9. Soon after, Girl Power’s commander, Daniel, sends his brother, Nathan, out to find Narutaki. Kyōya tries to contact Hiroki, but he is unable to get through to him. Luckily, the TARDIS arrives and the Doctor and Hiroki help Angela and the others repel the attacking Girl Power forces. Some more things happen and by the end of the story, we learn that Kyōya and Mao are dating.

That Christmas, Kyōya and Kasumi head up to Manchester, but the Doctor briefly takes them and their friends back to Hong Kong for a picnic with Hiroki and the rest of the Zhuge family.

A few years later in 2018, the GJ Club and Momoka get a cameo at the start and end of the Gokaiger TV movie special. By this point in time, Momoka’s café in Manchester has expanded to many other branches around the UK and in Hong Kong.

The next year in 2019, Kyōya, Kasumi, Mao and Megumi are featured in a four-part adventure in Soulbound Series 3, helping the cast solve the mystery of Parker’s past and Shinbu’s origins. Two years after in 2021, Kyōya and Kasumi move to Hong Kong (along with the GJ Club) and join the Superhero Project as the new ShinkenRed and ZyuohTiger. You’d think Kyōya would be against violence given his harmless tendencies, but I suppose his character has developed over the years despite having abandonment issues.

So this has been the involvement of GJ Club in my personal project. It’s a shame the series wasn’t more popular or it could have gotten a second season, a manga, more (and frequent) translations of the light novel or hell, even a licenced release. This series is just like Sea Princesses in how popular it was, but despite the number of episodes the anime got, at least Shin Araki hasn’t abandoned the series (by putting it in a spinoff no less) unlike Fabio Yabu, who hasn’t made anything new for Sea Princesses since 2010 after getting more animated episodes than GJ Club did. On the other hand though, neglected series with little material has been good development fodder for my personal project as it allowed me to bring awareness to the existence of those series while also developing backstories and afterstories for them.

#kisekae insights #gj club #doctor who

[peridots-pixiwolf]

~Mostly Mollusk~

Part 4 - Part 5 Here - Part 6

Characters. (Mortals anyway.)

-Known Characters

A list of notable travelling parties, vendors, and fighters.

Travellers move between settlements, Path-dwellers are constantly travelling but don't actually enter towns, as opposed to Outsiders who take up residence in a specific place outside of settlements instead of travelling, and Explorers travel often and sometimes enter towns but are mostly focused on finding new places. a 

---Kritto

She/her

Coenagrion puella (color/gender difference intentional)

Citadell Citizen/Explorer, Aerial/Terrestrial

A blue dragonfly cartographer who enjoys mapping the world around her free of cost, her excellent vision adding an eye for detail and near-perfect recreations of the surrounding views.

Service: Map (Kritto's Stall, Citadell)

---Lidii, Gorge, and Rantan

She/her, he/him but it's whatever really, he/they

Myrmecocystus mexicanus, ??????, Strategus aloeus

Traveller(s), Terrestrial

An explorer trio, the ox beetle Rantan carries Gorge, the clam archivist, to see the sights (or not--Gorge doesn't have eyes) while upbeat ant fighter Lidii wanders ahead. Lidii enjoys beating Gorge at Rainbow Shell while the latter wonders why she always wins, and Rantan exasperatedly goes along with their antics. 

Lidii- *trying to get Rantan's attention* Rantan- "What were you saying? I'm busy trying to pretend I'm literally anywhere else."

Lidii has definitely attempted to name the group. The others haven’t actually accepted this moniker, but whenever needed she uses “Team Taranoake”.

She has also made the trio friendship bracelets out of bits of shell. 

Service: None? Introductions? Travel?

---Bidibi 

They/them

Mortal form is a horned Dynastes tityus

Path-Dweller, Terrestrial

A large rhinoceros beetle who carries a pack of supplies twice their size on their back to trade while on the road (that, somehow, doesn't seem to burden them at all), appearing wherever needed. Secretly the god of the Path, though their reverence is much more informal than that of a patron god like Ven, for their truth as a God is little-known. Their large backpack contains the anchors of several other gods and they function as a sort of bridge between the mortal realm and more fantastical beings.

Service: ???

---Pard

They/them 

Polydrusus impressifrons

Outsider, Terrestrial 

An arrogant, self-proclaimed noble, who only survived for the fact they were a grub when the rest were exiled and killed. Oof.

Service: Lore

---Arbiter Len

All pronouns

Homarus americanus

Taranoake Citizen, Aquatic/Terrestrial

The figurehead of Taranoake, friendly and well-known among its citizens. See "Current Leaders''.

Service: (Facilitating discussions and resolving disputes between residents, a figurehead of the town. Unknown what their service to the player would be.)

---Drop

They/them

Pleurobrachia pileus

Taranoake Citizen, Aquatic

A sea gooseberry who frequents the Bay. Take care when around them, especially if you're any sort of tiny, delicious crustacean. (Laws don't apply to them obviously.) 

Service: None

---Cranton

He/they

Heterocarpus ensifer

Outsider, Aquatic

Not confined to a town, Cranton is a shrimp and excellent chef living close to the shore.

Service: Food (Cranton's Shed)

---Ceras

They/them 

Babakina festiva

Explorer/Traveller (former Outsider), Aquatic/Terrestrial 

An aeolid nudibranch with an older sibling Fess, who became stranded away from them after being caught in a rip current and washing up on Taranoake's shore. Unlike other sea slugs, they have the ability to survive on land, for unknown and currently-being-explored reasons

Service: They don't have a service they're the player character

---Tan

They/it

Cordyceps militaris (hosted by Felis catus, a vertebrate)

Outsider, Aquatic/Terrestrial

A strange, almost cheerful fungus inhabiting the body of the only intact towering, black-furred, long-dead organism they could find.

Service: Lore?, Mycelium translator (if they can get over their mutual hatred for the rest of their literal kingdom)

---Claws

She/her

Coccinella septempunctata

Taranoake Citizen, Terrestrial

A retired fighter ladybug who sells weapons at the Agora, some much larger than she is. If you start up a conversation with her, just be ready to stay and listen until dusk sets. Oh, and you ARE going home with a lighter glass-pouch…

Service: Weapons (The Agora, Taranoake)

---Azent, Monti, and Kee

He/him, she/her, ???

Sphecius convallis, Parides montezuma, Sphecius convallis

Taranoake Citizens, Aerial/Terrestrial

Azent the wasp, his child Kee, and butterfly partner Monti. Monti's brood didn't live long enough to truly see the world, so she raises Kee as her own (alongside the larva's actual father). Azent is missing an antenna, which does provide benefit in tolerating the oversaturated salt-smell of the sea.

Service: None (?)

---Machula

She/her

Vespula maculifrons 

Taranoake Citizen/Traveller, Aerial/Terrestrial 

An exile from her hive for attempting to overthrow her mother, who's taken up residence in Taranoake due to the fact that they were the only city who'd have her. Has a sort of rivalry with Azent.

Service: None

---Ghost

They/them (plural)

Danaus plexippus

Taranoake Citizen, Aerial/Terrestrial 

A pale and rather antisocial monarch who speaks rarely, but always using plural pronouns for themselves.

Service: None

---Nell

She/her

Acheta domesticus

Taranoake Citizen, Terrestrial

A cricket nymph, who may not be well-known among most of the adult citizens, but is renowned by her fellow children in being the only to reach the Acorn (the only wingless, that is).

Service: None

---Quinn

He/they

Smerinthus cerisyi

Taranoake Citizen, Terrestrial

An older moth missing an eye. While he was once a traveller, now he's settled in Taranoake as a storyteller.

Service: Lore

---Carmine and Kalanchoe

She/her, she/they

Tachypompilus ferrugineus, Cotinis mutabilis

Taranoake Citizens, Aerial/Terrestrial

A bright spider wasp with a love for cooking (and her partner Kalanchoe), and the latter coleopteran target of affection. Both insects have a color mutation to their wings, in which Carmine's are a more fiery blue and Kalanchoe's hindwings are pink.

Service: Food (The Agora, Taranoake)

---Blue-Gills

They/he

Porcellio hoffmannseggi

Citadell Citizen, Terrestrial

A sowbug cuisineur.

Service: Food (Noctiluca Cafe, Citadell)

---Tawny-Buzzard

She/her

Apis mellifera

Citadell Citizen, Terrestrial

A honeybee scientist appreciating the more experimental side of her city's God. Wingless for, ahem, completely unrelated reasons and is on thin ice to be banished.

Service: ???? (H.C. Labs, Citadell)

---Dune

He/they

Centruroides vittatus

Taranoake Citizen, Terrestrial

A scorpion diligently guarding Taranoake from any perceived threats, despite not being asked to. They almost always let others go, though.

Service: None?

---Allibel

They/she 

Magicicada septendecim

Taranoake Citizen/Traveller, Terrestrial

A travelling musician who wields a free-reed instrument made from a full, delicate pill-millipede corpse. It's unknown how exactly she acquired it.

She's actually a 17-year nymph, who emerged with a mutation that either delayed her maturity or stopped it entirely, and found a love of music--and a way to make the most of her time without wings.

Service: The Vibes™ (Anywhere)

---Tenaram, Amarmallus, and Magtauran

He/him, they/he, they/them

Menippe mercenaria, Sphodromantis viridis, Scolopendra cingulata

Taranoake Citizens, Aquatic/Terrestrial, Terrestrial x2

Champions of the Colosseum! An imposing stone crab, who's actually pretty boastful, loud and charismatic, much to the annoyance of everyone else in the Barracks. A quiet and cold mantis who is quick to anger and avoids any non-fight interaction with anyone. An almost downright terrifying centipede that doesn't really seem to care much about anything.

Service: Entertainment (Colosseum of Ven, Taranoake)

---Flicken

They/she

Phausis reticulata

Taranoake Citizen, Aerial/Terrestrial 

A small, energetic and stealthy firefly with a tendency to appear out of shadows at random times and startle those around them. Friend to many of the ghost crabs but best friend to Bem.

Service: ...Jump scares

---Grek

He/him

Breviceps macrops

Renin Citizen, Terrestrial

An old, grouchy desert rain frog with a missing eye and a tendency to scream at the top of his lungs at the slightest inconvenience. The sole survivor of whatever wiped out all the frogs. He has been living in solitude for 10 years waiting for rain to tell him it's time to leave.

Service: Lore (...?)

---Bem 

They/them

Ocypode quadrata

Taranoake Citizen, Aquatic/Terrestrial

A joyful ghost crab child with a dream to fight in the Colosseum. They were born with two missing legs and use prosthetics fashioned from driftwood and seaweed, which help them walk but aren’t very fast or mobile, so they settled on helping Claws make and sell weapons. Best friends with Flicken.

Service: Quest (to get a Citadell scientist for better prosthetics)

---Cren and Terret

She/her x2

Camponotus pennsylvanicus, Reticulitermes flavipes

Citadell Citizens, Terrestrial and Aerial/Terrestrial

A carpenter ant and termite alate (and of course, their 27 aphids, per Cren’s obsession). While the former is something of an artist, and very much a carpenter as her species dictates, Terret is a wood-eating scientist who keeps completely to herself, besides living with her partner.

Service: ? (Woodworker’s Association, Citadell) (possibly fulfilling Copi's and/or Bem's quest, as well as one of their own) (I no longer remember what those last seven words meant)

---Sepinti

She/her

Magicicada septendecim

Traveller, Aerial/Terrestrial

A cicada singer, Allibel's sister--though she's not any older, makes fun of her for her immaturity mutation, while keeping herself in the spotlight. Only competitive, though, not a complete jerk.

Service: The Vibes™ (in set areas)

---Lumi

They/them

Goniobranchus kuniei

Kelsik Citizen, Aquatic

The sea slug merchant of Kelsik, a bit mischievously enthusiastic about their goods.

Service: ...Sells Things? Food maybe?

---Copi

She/they

Xylocopa virginica

Explorer, Aerial/Terrestrial 

A young carpenter bee who lost her nest and is yearning for any feeling of community. (Has already been kicked out of several Andrena and Colletes burrows, for lack of knowing they're actually solitary.)

Service: Quest (read above. may become adopted by Cren)

---Eken

He/she

???

Outsider, Aquatic

An extremely confused vendor eel who only works in trades, he’s well known for his vast array of strange items and for having no idea how to price anything. Her main logic is “if it looks cool it's probably a fair trade” and especially favors shiny things.

Service: Strange things and stranger prices.

---Genni

???

Chroicocephalus philadelphia

???, Aerial/Terrestrial

A strange sky-creature. It shows no sign of intelligence, and speaks in loud squawks, though Ceras has chosen to imprint on and name it.

Service: Quest (A Meal Of Great Elegance)

---Beowi 

They/them

Dytiscidae species

Explorer, Terrestrial (technically not aquatic as they only skim the surface)

A “ship” captain and self proclaimed pirate, this diving beetle has a fierce love of the water and an even fiercer hate of actually being in it, so they constructed a floatation device of sorts cobbled out of driftwood, seaweed, and countless strange buoyant objects. 

Service: Quest (Track Down the Beast)

#mostly mollusk #not my art #long post #peridots-ocs #kritto mm #lidii mm #gorge mm #rantan mm #bidibi mm #pard mm #len mm #drop mm #cranton mm #ceras mm #tan mm #claws mm #azent mm #monti mm #kee mm #machula mm #ghost mm #nell mm #quinn mm #carmine ts #kalanchoe ts #blue-gills mm #tawny-buzzard mm #dune mm #allibel mm #tenaram mm

[the-himawari]

A3! Settsu Banri - Translation [SR] Stylish Gear (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Yuki: Huh, isn’t it Banri? Coming home from uni?

Banri: Yeah. Wait, that’s a lotta bags you got there. You’re out shoppin’?

Yuki: They’re materials for the costumes for this time’s “Festival of the Dead”. There were a few missing items, so I bought some additional stuff.

Banri: That amount ain’t an “additional purchase”… I’ll carry that load of fabric over there, so give it here.

Yuki: They’re the costumes we’ll use at the Theatre so that’s just expected.

Banri: Geez, I’ve got no choice, eh?

Yuki: Thanks.

-pause-

Banri: Are the preparations for the stage goin’ smoothly?

Yuki: As far as I’ve seen from the rehearsal hall the other day, aren’t they going well? The useless actor, Tsumugi and the money-grubbing yakuza are there, so it looks like they’re practising seriously too.

Banri: If you think about it, it’s full of experienced guys, huh? The one who ended up as the lead is Masumi, so I guess there’s no need to worry.

Yuki: It also feels like I can make the main costumes and then just do some fine adjustments.

Banri: Azami’s the one doin’ hair n’ makeup? The dead guys’ makeup is different from our zombies from before, right?

Yuki: …Well yeah. If you’re curious, what if you try taking a peek at the rehearsal hall?

Banri: ?

-pause-

Banri: Somehow I’ve got a bad feelin’ about what Yuki said before… …But it’s just hair and makeup, so it’s fine, right?

-pause-

Banri: Good wo~rk.

Izumi: Huh, Banri-kun.

Tsumugi: Welcome back.

Itaru: GJ.

Banri: !

Azuma: Fufu, surprised? Azami just happened to do our makeup for us.

Kazunari: It’s super fab, right! It’s totally legit and hyped up with just the makeup!

Sakyo: Don’t get too excited. It’ll be ruined if y’all fail to act so you don’t lose to the makeup that makes your facial expressions harder to see.

Azami: Oi, shitty Sakyo, quit yappin’. Your makeup’ll come off.

Sakyo: …

Banri: I was surprised at first, but won’t it look great when it’s paired with the costumes?

Azami: I’m still in the middle of adjusting it though. I gotta try doin’ it a bit more.

Itaru: Wait, really? Even though the quality is this high?

Azami: I wanna try somethin’ that has a little more impact but… I don’t have enough faces.

Banri: The member that’s appearing on stage later but isn’t here is… Taichi, huh. Won’t he be comin’ home in a bit?

Izumi: Taichi-kun said he has supplementary lessons, so it looks like he’ll be late today.

Azami: I wanna compare the face with the other guys’, so that’s why I wanna do it now… Someone that has a face I can use… Ah.

Banri: …The hell is it?

Azami: Banri-san, won’t you lend me your face?

Banri: HAA!? It seems ridiculously annoying to wash off so I’ll pass. ‘Sides, I’m not a cast member so it’d be pointless.

Azami: That’s irrelevant. Well, If Banri-san doesn’t do it then I’ll have to get Director to lend her face instead.

Banri: …

Masumi: Banri, do it.

Tsumugi: Making Director do this makeup is kind of…

Izumi: Sorry, Banri-kun! As expected, I won’t be able to go shopping for dinner with the skeleton makeup on so… Is it ok if I ask you for this?

Banri: Haa… I got it. It's fine if I do it, alright?

Azami: That helps.

Banri: I knew I had a bad feeling; so it was this, huh? I should trust my instincts...

---

| next

#a3! #a3! translation #settsu banri #act! addict! actors! #i am a changed person after seeing the contents of this card #and now you must all experience it with me #+ lots of pics cause yall need to see this

[alfwriteshizz]

Iplah

Graverunners (original content) // short story: 3188 words // trigger warnings: explosion

A master Glyphmancer struggles to complete her magnum opus.

---

Three days was a long time to stare at a rock. 

Iplah, House Glyphmancer, had earned her royal commission figuring out how to use objects to bridge the gap between the physical world and the unseen. She had spent half a lifetime glaring at stones like the one that sat on her workbench, surrounded by errant papers, formulas and theories, figuring out how to bind glyphs to them without overloading them with power.

Never before had she been given such a daunting task.

The stone that sat before her was a small, slightly oval-shaped one. It looked far too grey and bland to be the cause of all her troubles. It had earned its name not for its looks, but for its unique structure that made it far more resilient when dealing with glyphs. Yiralich. Translated, it meant, ‘living rock’. If there was anything this size that could accommodate a mind glyph, the most complicated and dangerous type, it would be one of these.

The fragments of her last attempt still littered the room - thick shards of murky clear rock, swimming in the flickering candlelight. Using glyphs for illumination was effective, but often interfered with Iplah’s work. And she had enough interference coming from her own head.

She slumped back, massaging her temples just beneath her angular horns, surveying her lack of progress. She needed a breakthrough. And a rest. She had been working for far too long. 

She felt the last vestiges of concentration slip from her mind as she hauled herself to her feet, pulled on her Glyphmancer cloak, and pushed open the door.

And was greeted with the sight of a soldier clad in full armour standing to attention, one gauntleted arm raised to knock on the door.

The other held a plate with a roll from the kitchens. 

“Flint? What are you doing here?” Iplah asked, leaning against the doorway and stifling a yawn. The soldier gave a mock salute in response.

“Thought I’d bring my best friend some grub. Consider it a reward for finally cracking the stone.”

“I don’t know about reward, Flint.” Iplah sighed, taking his plate and leading him back into her study, opening a shutter and letting light flood into the small room.

“Although I guess I have ‘cracked’ the stone.”

Flint whistled, surveying the state of the room. And the shards of Yiralich scattered across it.

“That bad, huh?”

Iplah drew up her workbench chair, settled herself down and started devouring the roll. “Worse,” She muttered between bites. “I can’t find a way to begin to bind the glyph to a Yiralich without a critical loss of integrity.”

“Hence the exploded rock.”

“...Hence the exploded rocks. I tried more than once, you know.” She looked at the roll in surprise. “This is good.”

“It’s what fresh food tastes like.” Flint said, finding a chair and sitting down across from her. “You know, when you eat food when it’s meant to be eaten. Not a day later.”

“You’re one to talk, ration boy.”

Flint shrugged. “Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t have constant access to a kitchen three floors down from me when I’m on assignments. You have no excuse.”

He leaned forward. “And between you and me, that’s ration Captain. I didn’t spend seven years eating stale bread on the frontlines for nothing, you know.”

Flint had served his house as long as Iplah had served hers - though relations between Reknas, the house of blades, and Luneas, the house of Glyphs, were never particularly warm, the two had remained firm friends through Flint’s postings and Iplah’s projects. 

Flint looked over at Iplah’s equations, his eyes glazing over slightly as he scanned the glyph placement charts. “I don’t envy you, Iplah. This stuff looks hard.”

“Harder than military work?” Iplah asked, surprised.

“It’s all about working the problem, Iplah,” Flint explained, slouching in his chair slightly. “You get a problem here, you do equations, try to reason with it. You get a problem on the battlefield, you just stab it. Not much strain in the brain department.”

Iplah chuckled softly. “I guess.” She glanced over at the stubborn chunk of Yiralich. “Sometimes I just want to stab that rock.”

That simple statement echoed around her skull like a crackle of static electricity, before realisation ignited like a thunderbolt in her mind. She dropped the half-finished roll onto the plate, swallowing a slightly too-big chunk with a start, standing abruptly. Flint started.

“Iplah? You alright?”

Iplah made a noise halfway between a grunt and a choke. Flint handed her his canteen, which she accepted with as much grace as she could manage. A few gulps of water later, she was looking over her notes with a newfound frenzy. 

“Iplah?”

“Why shouldn’t I stab the rock?” She asked, aggressively shuffling through papers.

“Uhh... are you asking me?” Flint asked, regarding his friend. She barely noticed him. Her brow was furrowed and water and crumbs speckled her chin, but there was a spark in her eyes that frightened Flint more than any skirmish.

She finally found the sheet she was looking for hidden in the shivering pale mounds, and slammed it down in front of her. A diagram of the composition of the Yiralich stone.

“The glyph won’t bind because it’s incompatible with the stone’s core structure. But if I were to alter that structure, the glyph might be stable enough during fusion to permanently bind to the stone...”

She scratched a calculation directly into her desk with a sliver of pencil, before scrawling a crescent shape into the diagram of the stone. She looked up at Flint with an expression not unlike ones he had seen on bloodlusted soldiers.

“Do you have your blade with you?”

“What kind of question is that?” Flint asked, holding out his sword, held safely in its ceremonial sheath. “I never leave my quarters without it-“

Iplah snatched the blade, stumbling slightly as she realised how heavy it was. Flint helped her haul it onto a relatively clear section of her workbench.

“What are we-“

“I need to bind some glyphs to your sword.” She paused, looking at Flint. “Can I bind some glyphs to your sword?”

Flint’s puzzled expression gave way to a grim resignation. He had been hoping the days of Iplah experimenting glyphwork on his weapons were over. 

“I’m gonna need it back, if possible...”

“No promises.” Iplah grinned, pulling on a pair of goggles and passing a spare to Flint, who hurriedly pulled them over his eyes, managing to avoid tangling them on his horns. She opened a drawer and pulled out her gauntlet, slipping it over her hand and flexing the fingers as the back began to glow with a pale green light, glyphs of power and focus beginning to glow on the back of its palm.

Glyphmancers differed in the ways they preferred to apply glyphs. Some used augmented implements similar to brushes or even weapons, stroking or slashing their glyphs into being. It varied from set to set and from culture to culture. Iplah preferred the organic feel, tracing glyphs with her fingers. It felt right to her.

She slid the blade out of its sheath, flared her gauntlet with another flex of her fingers, and set to work, hunched over the blade, her finger swathed in light as she began to trace a simple set of glyphs into the blade’s surface. 

“The crescent draws forth power...” Iplah breathed, finishing her first curved glyph just above the blade’s guard. She traced another a few centimetres above it, flowing from the first. 

“Which is channelled into sharpness...” 

the edge of the blade shone. Iplah drew a final glyph from the second, flowing along the curvature of the blade and finishing as it did.

“...which, finally, is stabilised.”

The glyph faded, faint wisps of moisture trailing from its edges. Iplah hauled the sword upright, checking the blade. On the other side of the metal, the glyph was there in reverse. 

“This is what we call a perfect bind - the glyph imprints itself on both sides. It’s one of the first glyphsets we learn.”

“Neat.” said Flint, raising his goggles and trying to hide the astonishment in his voice. No matter how many times he saw Iplah do it, Glyphtracing always made him feel like a kid again. Maybe that was why she insisted on explaining every step to him. And why he let her. “So, can I have my sword back now?”

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

“Of course.” Said Iplah, motioning to the blade. “She’s all yours.”

With more than a little relief, Flint picked up his blade, paused for more than a few moments to admire the glyphwork, and went to return it to its sheath. Iplah put her hand on the pommel, however, and Flint paused.

“But before you put it away, I need you to do one more thing for me.”

—

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Flint was standing blade at the ready, the business end pointed towards the Yiralich stone bolted in place on a relatively clear section of floor. Iplah was a short distance away, edging closer to her desk should she need to hide behind it.

“It’s a complete shot in the dark, to be honest,” Iplah replied. “But I’m out of options. And you’re the self-proclaimed stabbing expert.”

“So what do I do?”

“I’ve marked a triangular shape at the very top of the stone. Do you see it?”

Flint saw it. 

“I need you to cut through that notch, right through to the other side, carving out the shape.”

“You want me to run through a rock?”

“I want you to run through a rock with a unique elemental structure so you can alter that structure slightly.” Iplah explained. “It’ll concentrate more unseen density towards the face of the glyph site, which means I’ll be able to-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. Are you sure we shouldn’t get someone qualified to do this? Someone who knows what they’re doing? I’m just a soldier.”

“It’s all about working the problem, Flint. I work things out with equations, and you hit things with a sword. We can do this.”

Flint held his blade a little more tightly, the glyphs flowing down its side, pointing towards the rock.

“Okay.” 

He drove the blade into the stone with all the force of a soldier who was very good at his job. At least, he rammed the ceremonial sword down with all the intention of doing just that. The problem came when the steel met the rock. And abruptly stopped with a underwhelming clang.

Luckily for Flint, the awkwardness of the moment only lasted a few seconds. As he cleared his throat to ask Iplah what to do next, the glyphs on his blade hummed to life, with one of those sounds that you felt rather than heard. 

The blade began to sink steadily into the stone, a thin trail of smoke emerging from the deepening cut and mingling with the dust and sunlight in the air. It smelt to Flint like how metal tasted.

Eventually, the blade thudded through to the floor. Careful not to increase the pressure on the blade, Flint began to guide it round the stone, following the shape Iplah had calculated. 

A few more moments later, his blade skidded out the other side, and the stone had been cut into two rather neat pieces. The runes on his blade steadily faded back to a dull steel, the thrum of the metal slowly petering out. Condensation dripped from the tip of the sword.

“Did it work?” He asked without turning round. He felt that the moment had been somewhat underwhelming - he had expected sparks to fly or the runes to glow just a little bit brighter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Iplah cautiously making her way over to have a look. 

“Looks like it.” She replied, stashing the unneeded part of the stone and pulling a sheet of paper from her Glyphmancer robes. 

Although, when he saw it, Flint felt that calling it paper was somehow a disservice. Parchment seemed more appropriate - it seemed to fit the sense of raw power that his senses insisted were coming from that flat sheet.

Then he saw the design that Iplah had mapped upon it. It was a glyph alright, but not like any he’d ever seen before. It was symmetrical, and seemed to get more and more intricate the longer he looked at it. At its very centre was a semi-circle facing downwards - Flint couldn’t escape the sensation that it was a closed eye.

Iplah saw his gaze and explained. “This is a mind glyph. One of the more complicated glyph combinations out there.” She knelt down before the bolted stone, which was now oval-shaped with a point at one end, holding the parchment over the top.

“I can’t draw this glyph directly into the stone. One imperfection could shatter it, or worse. So I did it on something more mundane, like paper, to make sure I could focus on getting the glyph perfect without worrying about something exploding in my face.”

She looked up at Flint through goggled eyes. Although Flint couldn’t see them, he could make out the grim slash of her lips below. “You might want to stand back. I’m about to transfer the glyph to the stone.”

Flint obligingly took a few steps backward, ignoring the instinctual urge to protect his friend. She knew what she was doing. He didn’t.

She held her gauntlet with fingers outstretched over the paper (parchment?), flared it once more, and began to slowly turn her hand clockwise. A few errant sparks flicked from the sheet. It began to rise into the air, as though held between two magnets. Then a sound quite unlike anything Flint had heard before filled the air. Although he didn’t know it, it was the cries of the individual atoms of the paper being forced to give up the glyph binding. He didn’t know about all that, but he could feel the quantum pain slicing through the air, and it sent a shiver down his hardened, shiver-resistant spine.

The sheet began to drain of pigment as the rune leapt the gap through the unseen world. The stone began to shudder and hiss.

Flint felt that the image was somehow wrong. His brain, surprisingly, accepted everything it was seeing, but felt as though it should be taking place in eerie blackness, not the dull light of the morning, with pale glyphlight struggling against dust and sunlight. Iplah’s face was cast in lines of sleep, not the impossible forces she was wielding as she bent the universe to her will. 

Then it was over. Iplah cast the blank sheet aside, where it promptly disintegrated into pale grey ash. For a moment, Flint saw only the stone: blank, grey, uninteresting. Then the glyph flared to life across its surface: a brilliant white that somehow outshone the sunlight. Even with their goggles, Iplah and Flint reeled. Flint felt his ears pop, and tried to peer at the stone and shield his eyes at the same time. 

“It’s almost bound...” Iplah muttered, inching closer. “Come on, just a bit longer...”

Crack.

To say the stone shattered would be a gross understatement to the point of sheer inaccuracy. The stone exploded into infinitesimally small pieces, mingling with the dust and leaving a faint afterimage of the glyph hovering in the air and on the inside of Flint’s retinas. 

They waited for a little while. When her ears finally stopped ringing, Iplah pounded the floor in frustration. “Ked’am.” She swore. “I really thought I had it that time. I guess not.”

Flint patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, blinking several times a second. “Good explosion, if that’s any consolation.” He helped her up. “Now let’s get you something proper to eat.”

They made their way to the door, leaving a room full of smoke, dust, crumbs and failure.

Iplah had just touched the doorknob when it happened. Flint felt something in the room behind them - his soldier’s sense, instincts from years in battle. He glanced over his shoulder, not knowing what to expect.

His eyes widened. He reached out and grabbed Iplah’s shoulder. “Iplah...” he breathed. 

Iplah turned, and her question died on her lips as she saw what was happening. 

An image was flickering to life on the floor, directly above the blackened mark where the stone had exploded. After a few seconds she realised it was the mind glyph. The one she had drawn with her own hand.

It flared to life, hovering in the air, light smouldering from its edges. 

Flint felt his teeth clench in his mouth. He felt drawn to that point. With a start he realised that he was being drawn to it. His soldier’s braid lifted like a crooked finger, pointing towards the singularity on the floor. 

“Flint...!” Iplah breathed. He turned and saw Iplah’s Glyphmancer robes trailing towards the point, hovering in a phantom breeze. She caught something in the air, lifted her goggles, and looked at him with eyes filled with wonder.

“Look...!”

He looked and saw a speck between her thumb and forefinger. And saw countless others flitting through the air around them. At first he thought they were dust particles. But then he saw them coiling together to form slick grey strands as they passed through the pale sunlight. His eyes turned to where they were trailing, and he understood. 

The stone was rebuilding itself. Piece by minuscule piece. Flint stood, mesmerised, as molecules of matter flitted from his hair, his horns, his clothes, peeled themselves from the walls and roof, from the furniture. Ranks and ranks of rock shards marching themselves back to when they were whole.

And before his eyes, Flint realised that the stone that had appeared on the floor was almost as it was. Iplah let the speck between her fingers go, and it bobbed down, settling into place and vanishing like snow falling onto water. The glyph flared one final time, like a predator yawning after a meal, and faded into blackness. And all of a sudden the room was back to normal, dust dancing in the shafts of golden grey sunlight, the only sign that anything remotely out of the ordinary had just occurred the black explosion mark beneath the stone and Iplah and Flint’s stunned breathing.

Eventually, Iplah summoned the courage to slink over to where the stone lay bolted to the floor. She tenderly unscrewed it from its casing, and held it, reverently, between her fingers. Bearing it aloft into the blue daylight. 

The mind glyph was emblazoned just underneath the surface of the clouded rock, winking up at her. With trembling fingers, Iplah turned it over. 

And saw the same glyph imprinted in reverse on the other side. Identical. A perfect bind.

She had done it.

Only then did Flint let out a roar of victory so sudden and so joyous that Iplah nearly dropped the culmination of her life’s work.

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