#read a book? guess what industry ALSO wants its creators dead! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sundaynightnovels · 5 years

Text

11/11/11

i was tagged by the lovely @aslanwrites, who has just undergone a name change which confused me a LOT because i was like... who is this person.. with that familiar icon... what happened to quiescentwriting????????? but my slow mind caught up and yea!! thanks for remembering me even with your new identity hahahha and thanks for tagging me in this!! <3

Rules: Answer 11 Questions, Ask Eleven Questions, Tag Eleven People!

Why did you start writing? I honestly don’t remember. i’ve just been writing since young... and it might have to do with reading books, i really don’t know. but when i was younger my sis and i used to play with our stuffed toys and we created this entire world surrounding the 6 of them (used to be 4 but we added 2 to the gang), including an entire class of 22 people with names, distinct personalities and relationships, and also multiple AUs such as a superpower one and a living-together one, which was really fun. so yea i guess i’ve been creating stories since young!

What writing advice do you adhere to? i actually don’t adhere to writing advice HAHA i’m a rebel . okay kidding aside, i really don’t refer to them or read them at all, like i’m not really bothered with advice. i just want to do what i wanna do, yknow?? i guess the only advice that i know and follow is to not read back on what you’ve already written. i think i’ve quoted that a lot of times before HAHAHA but yea, that’s really the only one.

What writing advice do you disagree with? refer to above hahaha i can’t really disagree with anything when i really don’t know anything!! ( i mean, of course i can if i want to be an ass but yknow, i’m not. well, not all the time)

Do you think “Said” is dead? nah. i use ‘said’ all the time. sometimes you just need it yknow? it’s like an old best friend that you’re so used to, you don’t even notice its presence in your life but you need it like you need air. you can pry my best friend away from my cold dead hands!!

Favorite drink when writing? i mainly drink water. i don’t really drink anything else. ooo ~~healthy ~~~ nah i’m really not i just like water.

What’s your favorite app to write on? Or do you prefer notebooks? i write mainly on MS word, which i know ain’t the best but i’m used to it and my OLD LIMBS WILL NOT TAKE ANY OTHER ok jk i am up for other options but it’s working fine for me now, so i don’t feel the need to change. i write sometimes on notebooks when i’m really stuck, or i just feel like writing something by hand, but that’s rarely, usually when i’m overseas without my laptop or bored to death at work.

Who or what is your biggest inspiration? other creators i guess, and not just authors but also filmmakers or musicians or whatever. right now i just want to be like taika waititi, yknow. i just wanna do what i want to do and what i have fun doing and maybe eventually others can jump onboard and enjoy my work with me!

What do you wish writers would do more of? PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN MAIN CHARACTERS!!! i mean, i love romance as much as the next person, but it always seem like the main characters always end up in a romantic relationship with each other when sometimes they are a lot better as friends. another of my wip (the only other wip i have with first drafts written... since years ago) has three main characters who remain in platonic relationships with one another throughout, and while retrospectively i could see how some might ship certain characters together, i really liked that i kept them as purely friends and it worked so much better and idk, i just feel like a lot of times when you see main characters it’s like an immediate, oh they are gonna get together, and yknow, that doesn’t always have to be the case.

What do you wish writers would do less of? uhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i don’t really know right now. hmmmmm.

What turns you away from a story? well. unnecessary plot twists. like, sometimes it’s okay for a story to be predictable and for readers to expect what is happening, because that just means the story makes sense and whatever’s happening is coherent with what happened in the past, yknow???? and sometimes i feel like people stress too much about being unexpected and subverting expectations and wanting to surprise readers that... they throw too many plot twists into a story until it doesn’t make sense, until the flow is disrupted and it ruins the story as a whole. being predictable is not a bad thing!!!!!! and vice versa, shock value isn’t inherently good for your story!

Thoughts on the whole “Mary Sue” topic? ah. well, i don’t like them, but that’s mainly because mary sue’s are so flat as characters that i don’t think any story will happen around them, yknow what i mean? like if they’re so perfect and can do no wrong, there’s not much conflict to be had and the story won’t be as strong. also, i just don’t think they’re particularly realistic or relatable characters, they’re mostly self-indulgent... which is not a bad thing (my whole damn wip is self-indulgent tbh), it’s just... they’re not particularly entertaining to read about either.

OKAY i am tagging: @cawolters @kidsarentallwrite @focusdumbass @inexorableblob @insearchof-solace @kaigods @nyxnevin @inkpot-dreamer @elusiveink @usuallydecentwriter @purplepenblog && anyone else who wants to do this! my 11 questions are:

What is your favourite type of character to write (in terms of trait, personality, trope, or just basically what you find yourself writing the most)?

What kind of a writer do you aspire to be?

What kind of book do you really want to write, and why have you not written it yet?

What is the one thing you like best about your own writing?

What is the one thing you want to improve most about your writing?

Do you write things other than conventional novels (e.g. poetry, screenplays, non-fiction)? If no, do you wish to venture out into other forms of writing?

Do you let the people around you read your writing? At which stage do you let them read it (outline, first draft, polished piece)? Why or why not?

What aspects do you like best about writing in general?

Do you tend to stick to what you know when writing, or do you like to write about things outside of your real life?

What do you think about plot twists?

What do you want to see more of in the publishing industry in general? Why?

(had to include that second last one HAHAHA) alright!! hope y’all enjoy answering these questions!!

#writing tag #writeblr #writers on tumblr #personal

14 notes · View notes

kisstheprincessofpurewhite · 6 years

Text

After My Father’s Funeral Chapter 2

Summary: Funerals can be stressful, but so can weddings–especially with a family as effed up as theirs. Unfortunately for Leia, she has both to attend in one go. So much for repression. Modern AU with racer!Han and lawyer!Leia.

Pairings: Leia/Han, Mara/Luke, Jyn/Cassian, Leia&Han&Luke&Mara&Cassian&Jyn, Uncle Owen/Aunt Beru

Chapter summary: In which we meet our leading man

Chapter pairings: Han/Leia, Jyn&Leia, Mara/Luke, mention of Jyn/Cassian

A/N: thanks for all the support, see Ao3 and FFN versions for full author’s notes

One family function down, one ginormous one to go, Leia thought as Jyn poured her a drink of something strong—hopefully. Not that she loathed to see her dearest brother get married, but she hadn't anticipated all the socializing she would have to participate in. Particularly right after Skywalker's funeral. At first blush, however, Jyn and Cassian's small party didn't seem all too bad. There were around two dozen people there, mostly people she had known from around town, high school, or college. None of whom she was too keen to socialize with. It had taken all of her limited skills to slip away from the happy couple as everyone had greeted Luke and Mara at the door.

The couple had sat down in the main living room with everyone sat around them or having their own conversations. It was, by any means, a calm, normal get together. Cassian had mentioned that Jyn was in the kitchen pouring drinks, and Leia jumped at the opportunity. "I'll see if she needs any help," she had said, heading to the pointed direction of the kitchen.

Jyn had looked up to Leia coming in, but politely refused help. "Not much to do at this point, what'll you have?"

They'd sat in silence for a minute while Jyn poured, and Leia felt things were more than a little awkward.

"Tell me about yourself, Jyn," she said as the woman slid Leia the red plastic cup.

Jyn looked over her own cup and sighed. "I hate being the hostess, how's that?"

"Well, it does make it easy to go home at the end of the night." Leia took a cursory smell of the beverage, and took a sip.

Jyn smiled and nodded. "It does, but I was never much of a party girl."

"Neither was I. Give me a good book and a bottle of whiskey and I'll snap at you to leave me alone the whole night."

Jyn laughed at that. "You seem to be in better spirits than yesterday."

Leia shrugged. "You gotta let the past die sometime, right?" Jyn nodded, but seemed to look somber too. Leia sighed. "Don't tell me, Anakin Skywalker ruin your life too?"

Jyn shook her head. "I'm afraid that honor goes to my own father, Galen Erso." She'd had her body facing away from Leia until them. Jyn now turned to face her across the island counter.

Leia blinked. "Wait, the Galen Erso? Of-"

"Khyber Industries? Yeah. You've heard of us." Jyn didn't look up from her own drink, her lips were pursed.

"I guess our dad's are peas in a pod. Yours makes the explosives, and mine lights 'em." Leia tried to remember her promise to Luke. But how often do you meet a kindred spirit?

"Khyber doesn't only make explosives, and he wasn't a bad person, really, he wasn't. You have to believe me. Just-" Leia knew that feeling, the desperate desire to reconcile two conflicting ideas: father and creator of terror.

She decided to throw Jyn a bone, to show they were on the same side. "He hasn't left you a good legacy."

Jyn sighed as if relieved Leia understood. "No. It feels like a weight on my chest, like he somehow strapped the souls of all the people those terrorists took." Jyn took a long drink and rubbed her temple. "And no one understands, not even Cassian. He tries, oh he tries, but-"

Leia nodded emphatically. "Believe me, I get it. You're looking at probably the only person who does. Maybe Luke, but I doubt it."

Jyn sighed again and Leia placed a hand on her arm. They were quiet for another minute as Leia wondered. Cassian seemed to have a type, a thing for girls with daddies who committed atrocities and issues because of them.

"I shouldn't have brought it up. Just- being back home, I can't help but be depressed," Leia finally said, not wanting to let that be the last thing they say to each other.

"No, I'm the one who shouldn't have said anything. I know- erm…" Jyn raised her eyes to the ceiling, a different awkward radiating from her.

"How much has Cassian told you about me?" Leia asked, not trying to be confrontational.

"Some, I can't say how much. I know about your father, and your parents- the Organas, that they- they-"

Leia raised her hand. "Its fine, they're dead, no need to say anymore."

"And he said that you'd…changed, and you broke up not long after."

Leia chuckled that those two events were correlated so easily, while, to her, they had seemed so separate. Her parents died in a horrible tragedy, while her relationship with Cassian fizzled out after they both grew up. Maybe a change of subject was in order. People were starting to come into the kitchen for food and more drinks and it would be better if neither of them cried over their dead fathers. "You're maid of honor, yes?" Jyn nodded, scratching the side of her cup with her nails. "Lucky you, you and Mara close?" People were coming by, getting drinks and chatting.

Jyn nodded again. "We had the same foster parents for a while, and have been close ever since. She's the one who introduced me to Cassian, at the races."

Ah the races, Leia had nearly forgotten about them. For a while, in Coruscant, she had been able to pretend that people didn't actually lose their time, money, and minds over gasoline fueled moving parts and tire treads. "How're those going by the way?"

Jyn chuckled at that. "Pretty well, I guess, but that's a pretty broad question." She handed someone a drink.

"Who's- who's winning?" Leia had no idea what she was talking about, and she was sure Jyn could pick up on that. Luke had done some small-time racing in college, even once winning and semi-final, but never made it to the local pro-circuit. He'd said it just wasn't his scene, and went back to studying transcendentalists.

"Well, it will depend on who you ask." Jyn leaned over the counter and gestured to a man standing on the end of the island counter where they were sitting. "Like he'll tell you no one matters but him, but he also lost the most recent race. So it differs, you see."

The man seemed to hear Jyn because he turned his head and grinned at her. His smile was charming, Leia would give him that, but bregrudingly.

"One time," he said. "I let them have one, Erso." He kept his body facing away from the two women, taking a drink from his own cup.

"Tell that to the others, Solo, you'll be in for a fight," Jyn told him, not looking up at him. She poured a drink for a woman Leia didn't know but was faintly familiar.

"You know me, always looking for a good fight." Leia watched him as he caught the eye of the woman getting a drink from Jyn. The smirk was back. "Don't do the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs with a passive attitude."

That comment tickled a part of Leia's memory. Where had she read something about that again?

"Leave her alone, Han. She's not going to sleep with you." Jyn's warning was firm but also slightly teasing.

"Maybe let her decide for herself." He turned around finally and smiled at her. "Hi," he said.

She smiled and greeted him back.

"What's your-"

"Its 13," Leia said finally, causing everyone at the island to look at her. "If you're Han Solo, it was 13 parsecs, not 12."

His whole demeanor changed, standing up straight and pursing his lips. His brown leather jacket fit him very nicely, but did nothing to hide his size, while not humongous, intimidating nonetheless "It was less than 13, that's the official ruling. I should know, I was there." There was more annoyance than amusement in his voice, but not completely devoid of mirth.

"That's true, 12.759. But the officiants count in quarters and round up." Leia'd always had the reputation for being a "know-it-all," which was annoying even if she did deserve it.

"How do you-"

"I have the official record, well, a picture anyway." Leia showed them her phone.

He leaned over the table and squared his jaw, squinting at the picture. "Where did you get that?" He sounded more curious than accusatory.

"I'm a lawyer, and it was necessary research for a case that I'm not at liberty to discuss as it is still ongoing."

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't just pull up documents like that-"

"Actually you can, its in the public record." She slid her phone back into her pocket. "No one does because its a lot of work, but sometimes your findings can pay off. Like at a party where a guy is using technically correct facts to hit on women."

Jyn chuckled moving away from the counter, the other woman had already walked away. Solo uncrossed his arms and walked—sauntered even—to lean on the counter next to where Leia was. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced, I'm-"

"Han Solo, we established this already." She did her best to keep her body language neutral so that there would be no doubt that his attempts at flirting were not working.

"And you're the girl who made quite the scene the burial yesterday." There was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Leia felt her lips twitch into a smile, but she reigned them back to placid. "You were there?"

He shrugged. "I was invited."

"I would hope so, who in their right mind wants to crash a funeral?"

"Those guys you yelled at didn't seem to mind." The smile split his lips now.

"I rest my case." She broke eye contact with him. His eyes were just too much to stare into. She took a sip of her drink for something to do.

"So who was the dead guy to you?"

"I should ask you the same, you're not related to him, I know that much."

"How-"

The door flew open, held open by Luke's outstretched arm. "Han!" Luke said, a bit more enthusiastic than he'd probably intended, but it was sometimes hard to tell with Luke. "I see you've met my little sister. Leia, this is Han."

The two in the kitchen turned to stare at the open door. Everyone in the living room has stopped what they were doing to peer in at the drama and Leia sighed.

"Wait- wait, you're L-"

"Leia Organa, nice to meet you. Let's not do this again, shall we?" She slid off the stool she'd been perched on, heading for the door.

"He bothering you, Leia?" Luke asked as Leia moved to go past him.

"Worried about me, baby brother?" Leia didn't look to see, but she was sure Luke made a face.

The party resumed as normal, but now Leia was sitting next to Cassian and Jyn as everyone watched an old movie. It was one of Luke's favorites, she knew that, but had missed the beginning. She felt the couch next to her sink with the weight of a person, and felt her annoyance level spike.

"So as I was saying 'fore we got so rudely interrupted," Solo said quietly enough so that only she could hear. "Sorry about your dad."

She flinched and set her jaw. "My dad died on the sidewalk of the town square five years ago after being mowed down by a car. The man we buried yesterday was nothing to me."

He seemed speechless by her admission, but it didn't make him go away either. "I'm sorry," he only said. "Life's fucking complicated."

"And you're making it so much better currently."

"I've been known to turn the attitude of a room, I admit." She refused to look at him, but she knew he was smirking.

"From bad to worse, yeah." She glanced at him, and he was indeed smiling. "And what are you smirking at?"

"Its just so amusing that you don't even know me, but have decided you hate me."

"I don't hate you, like you said, I don't know you."

"Could've fooled me."

Cassian moved to look over Leia. "Han, stop it. You may think you're an unstoppable force, but she is definitely an immovable object. Leave her alone," he said, settling back down.

"Thank you, Cassian," Leia said. "What a gentleman." She couldn't stop the words coming out of her mouth, and immediately regretted them.

"He just compared you to a rock or likewise." Solo's voice was different, no longer teasing, genuinely offended?

Maybe I'm into that, she desperately wanted to say, desperately wanted to see what he would do when she said that. But she knew what it would sound like to Cassian and Jyn, both of whom she had a terse friendship to begin with. No, better to show restraint. She was an adult, after all.

"Say it," Solo egged. "Whatever comment you're biting back, say it."

She only looked at him, using up the last of her resolve to stand and cross the room. She wedged her way in between Mara and an old college friend of Luke's to rest against her soon-to-be sister. She did her best to not look at Mr. Solo the rest of the night.

#star wars #sw #Han Solo #leia organa #han x leia #leia skywalker #leia #han #star wars: original triology #star wars au #mara jade #luke skywalker #after my fathers funeral #after my fathers funeral chapter 2 #original triology

6 notes · View notes

theragamuffininitiative · 7 years

Text

Christian Films and Misc Rambling Thoughts on the Subject that Might or Might Not be Actually Connected

@cogentranting At some point, years from now, when all else is turned to dust and the sun has set for the last time, a post for this reply, stating I will reply in a longer fashion later (which would actually be now) shall appear. I will likely delete it out of pure spite. Stupid mobile app uploads.

I haven’t seen God’s Not Dead. Or God’s Not Dead 2. I should. Not because I just want to, or because It Is The Inspired Word Of Our Lord™ (hahahah it’s not guys, ok), but because of my overall interest an involvement in the world of film. I should be informed.

Also, I appreciate the sarcasm. XD I hope that was sarcasm or now I look really stupid but you’re going to get an earful either way, so it works out.

So let’s get to it:

I hate the Christian Film Industry™

Whew. There. I said it. Pray for my salvation.

Why? So, soooo many reasons.

1. The Sacrifice of Art in the Name of ‘Message.’

I, for one, want to know why the Christian church is constantly smashing down on the creative outputs of their members for not being enough about God, or published by Thomas Nelson, or advocated by Willie Roberts. Why. We would rather squelch the heartfelt, beautiful, God-given art produced by our brothers and sisters for not showing a clear Conversion Experience rather than be amazed at the ability God has allowed us to have to make such fantastic, whimsical, thought-provoking, emotionally-resonant things.

This is point number one because it. is. my. biggest. issue.

“Message films are rarely exciting. So by their very nature, most Christian films aren’t going to be very good because they have to fall within certain message-based parameters. And because the Christian audience is so glad to get a “safe, redeeming, faith-based message,” even at the expense of great art, they don’t demand higher artistic standards.” ~ Dallas Jenkins, movie reviewer and director of The Resurrection of Gavin Stone??? (Imma have to check back with you later on this, but the quote still stands on its own.)

“We have the makings of a movement that can change this culture. I honestly believe this. But I also believe the first step toward establishing the groundwork for a vibrant, relevant cultural movement based on scriptural thought is to stop producing “Christian films” or “Christian music” or “Christian art” and simply have Christ-followers who create great Art.” ~ Scott Nehring, in his book You Are What You See: Watching Movies Through a Christian Lens.

“If we are trying to evangelize, the fact that most Christian-themed movies are torn to shreds by non-Christian critics becomes an issue. If, however, we just really want to see our fantasies validated on screen, then we will write-off these poor reviews as “persecution.”” ~ Andrew Barber, in his article “The Problem with Christian Films.”

On a similar note, I want to know what the Mormon church is doing that the Christian church is not. Every time I turn around, I discover that another of my favorite artists, whether it be in film or elsewhere, is a professing Mormon:

musicians Imagine Dragons, the Killers, and Lindsey Stirling

authors Brandon Sanderson, Shannon Hale, Heather Dixon, and Brandon Mull

animator Don Bluth

actress Amy Adams and actor Will Swenson (both formerly)

etc, the list goes on

Hi, my Mormon friends. What is your secret. What ways of encouraging art and artists do you employ that my Baptist upbringing, and the Conservative Christian community in general, is so sorely lacking in?

2. The Christian Culture’s Subsequent Villainization of Hollywood.

This past Christmas, my sister gifted me a book titled Behind the Screen, “Hollywood Insiders on Faith, Film, and Culture.”

I sat down after all the gift-giving was done and read the first three sections before the holiday meal was served. But let me quote from the introduction which had me “Amen!”-ing and punching my fist to the sky every third word:

“We obsess about “the culture” endlessly; we analyze and criticize. But we can’t figure out anything to do but point an accusatory finger at Hollywood... Blaming Hollywood for our cultural woes has become a habit... Casting Hollywood as the enemy has only pushed Hollywood farther away. And the farther Hollywood is from us, the less influence we have on our culture. We’ve left the business of defining human experience via the mass media to people with a secular worldview.... In pushing away secular Hollywood, haven’t we turned our backs on the very people Christ called us to minister to - the searching and the desperate, those without the gospel’s saving grace and truth?”

Btw, if this subject is something you are interested in, I highly recommend this book. Written by creatives and executives in the film world (including one of the writers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the producer of Home Improvement, and even the multi-credited Ralph Winters, among others), it’s a frank, beautiful, and challenging read for artists, Christians, and film buffs.

The point here is that the church culture says if it doesn’t come from Sherwood, or have Kirk Cameron or Ducky Dynasty in it, or have a conversion sequence, it isn’t Christian and therefore Christians should not view or encourage it in any way. This. Is. Crap. Pardon my French.

Beauty can come from imperfection. Even unregenerate hearts still bear the image of the Divine and are capable of producing so much worthwhile and significant art. Which leads to...

3. Guess What? Secular Film Companies Make Quality Faith Films Too??!

Idk what I should even say here, but I’m just going to go with the one shining example I always think of: Dreamworks’ Prince of Egypt. It is purely a work of art from any standard, and that is the epitome of what Christians should be looking for in their endeavors to create good film. PoE is gorgeously animated, seamlessly directed, well-scripted, morally driven, more Biblically and historically accurate than you would believe (and where it falls down on direct representation, it remains true to theme and character), etc. etc. etc.

I could go on for ages about how much I adore this film. (Joseph, King of Dreams, is also noteworthy, but nearly up to par with the craftsmanship of its predecessor.

I mean

just look at

the art

4. I Do Like Some Films Made By ‘Christian’ Companies

Idk, I might step on people’s toes or surprise you by which of these I actually approve of, but here we go:

I like Fireproof. I have many issues with it, but overall it is a fairly well-made, Hallmark-style emotional flick. The acting leaves much to be desired, but it’s a decent bit of showmanship, story, and truth.

I do not like Facing the Giants. Give me Blind Side any day of the week, except don’t because... sports.

However, both Courageous (some actual real life dialogue and not a completely happily ever after, whaaaat???! Oh, but token conversion experience, of course), and the early-and-forgotten Flywheel (which, although low in camera quality and acting, is actually an enjoyable story), come in as films I would sit down and watch at least a second time.

Risen is well-made and acted and has some establishment of genuine Craft. However, as far as story plots go, a lot was sacrificed. The mountain-top encounter with Christ was, while perhaps the most generally cliche piece of story, to me the most heartfelt and provocative. After that...the film kind of ended in mediocrity. Like...what did the characters do after the credits rolled.

I actually really enjoy Mom’s Night Out. The manic theme almost kills me, but the quiet and the reveal at the end is worth sitting through to see.

And I appreciate Luther. I don’t watch it often, because I personally can’t stomach the more violent aspects (the reason I haven’t/don’t watch The Passion or End of the Spear.) But Luther is a great biographical film, and I would encourage anyone studying Catholic and/or Protestant history, especially Martin Luther, to watch it. This is a Film in both art, message, and class.

Tbh, I’ve been avoiding most of the other Christian films, which is why I won’t talk about them there.

5. You Don’t Have To Slap A Jesus Fish Bumper Sticker On It To Be Christ-Honoring

Walden Media is a prime example, I believe, of what Christians in the film industry should be doing. I mean, they’re not perfect at all, but they are not sacrificing art for message - or vice versa for that matter. While not strictly a Christian Film group, Walden is founded and run by a majority of Christian Conservatives who are actively seeking to make quality and wholesome films for people of all diversities. They’ve had a few flops and several more that just didn’t quite live up to their potential, but they also brought us

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, as well as

Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, and the one I will never stop talking about:

Amazing Grace.

Well-crafted films, put out by *gasp* an assortment of believers and non-believers. Art. Good films. Not Messages dressed up in makeup with a classy Instagram filter and a 30-day challange booklet to get your revival outfit on.

In looking through this stuff, I just found this article, which is a superb read and really gets at the heart of what I feel, and am very badly trying to communicate:

Why Faith-Based Films Hurt Religion

So.

When Christian Films start being an actual representation of creative community and the artistic talents God has given to us as personal and spiritual gifts, rather than a cheap way to try to force morality on Hollywood and on our neighbors without ever leaving the confines of our Bible Boxes in case we might get soiled, I may start appreciating the Christian Film Industry™. Until then??? I’ll stand behind my fellow creatives and my fellow believers and hope and work for the best.

Lastly, two things:

Christians Can Enjoy Secular Film Productions.

I would even argue that they should. We were created by a Creator God, who takes pride and joy in making beautiful things, in making each of us. And we are made in His image. We are creators as well, we make art all the time. Scripture tells us to worship God in everything we do. The movement of making “Christian Films for Christian Audiences because of Christian Reasons” is missing the point entirely. We as creatives are not here to make God Art, we are here to make art that glorifies God

Christ Does Not Need Hollywood. However, Hollywood Does Need Christ.

“While many missionaries travel to remote villages in Africa or South America to spread Christianity, [Karen] Covell believes her calling—her mission field, if you will—is right here in Los Angeles, in an industry that many of her fellow Christians find immoral or even downright sinful, both for its on-screen depictions of sex and drugs and the real-life sex, drugs, and other temptations that exist behind the scenes. Covell, who was a film producer in the early 1980s, says "the church did not get how I could justify being a Christian in Hollywood, and Hollywood did not get how I would follow God. It was a divide." It was nearly impossible to meet other Christians working in the industry, let alone ones who would express their faith openly. "I said, 'The church hates Hollywood, Hollywood hates the church. There's got to be some way to bridge that divide.'" - in an article by Jennifer Swan.

As I said in my original little “about me” tag response, I have felt called to ministry in this world. Whether it be film or live theater, that world is calling to me, both in its creative endeavors, and in its desperate need for the hope, truth, life, and light of Christ. Actors and directors in Hollywood and on Broadway are in as much need of the grace of our Lord as the starving orphans in the unreached people groups on the other side of the planet - same as your next door neighbor.

If Christians continue to tie themselves down, and group themselves together, cutting themselves off from the culture and the culture off from them, then we are doing absolutely no heavenly or earthly good to anyone.

So, you see, it’s not just the artistry (or, so often, lack thereof) in the Christian Film Industry™ that gets to me.

It’s the fact that the film media culture is a people group that the church as a whole is ignoring. We are ignoring the impact Hollywood has on the world around us and still trying to be relevant to that world, which is counter-productive and just plain silly.

It’s the fact that I see actors, actresses, producers, writers, who are obviously searching for the Something that will fill the void in their souls, and their primary exposure to Christianity and Christ - the only One who can satisfy them - is the Christian Film Industry™, which is largely full of broad and meaningless substance because heaven help us we should talk about something real, and then just plain bad art.

I believe God has called us to higher things than this.

Higher art, loving to create as he lovingly created us.

High impact, going deeper into the issues of our culture and our nature to address and satisfy problems and needs felt be every human, not just the church-goers who will show up for Sherwood’s next big thing.

So, yes, my pet peeve cracked from its proverbial nutshell:

I have issues with the Christian Film Industry

#end rant #i used the trademark symbol way too many times #long post #rags has opinions #christian films #movie making #i feel like i did not even touch on so many things #this is such a ramble #ragamusings #for certain

921 notes · View notes

motherboxing · 7 years

Text

Sometimes I like to revisit the original Women In Refrigerators site and read the creator responses to the concept. They’re super varied - from weird, patronizing denial:

Gals in comics have gotten the short end of the stick. But in all honesty, guys haven't fared much better: Just flip through a book of the dead and you'll see that dead guys far outnumber dead women. But then again, there were more guys to begin with, I suppose.

Come to think of it -- NOVA has had HIS powers taken away TWICE!

-Erik

(Erik Larson)

to honest reflections on culpability/accountability:

Interesting site. Of course you're correct. It bothers me that I'm responsible for something on your list (the depowering of Captain Marvel). I have an excuse, it was to prevent her from looking like such an idiot (she was damn near omnipotent, and she always lost fights. I felt I had to depower her to continue to portray her as competent. Of course we see how *that* turned out). But the truth is, my work on her still fits the pattern. Maybe your page will embarrass enough folks in the industry that we'll start considering everything we're saying when we do stuff like this. Or better yet, maybe more women will be inspired to take the reins and write some female characters who aren't plot devices to complicate the hero's life.

(Dwayne McDuffie)

I went back today specifically to look at John Ostrander’s response, for, I dunno, research reasons relating to my fan project, I guess. This is part of what he said:

Putting a character through physical dangers and misadventures is part of the genre. Again, it is pretty uniform for both male and female characters and reasonable, given the number of fights that they would get into. And, given the prevalence of rape in our culture, it could be argued that it would happen in the comics medium as well. The problem is -- it takes a character who is strong and capable and "takes her down" a notch or two. There is a message there that goes along with the act. Do I say never use it? I could never say that. But, if rape happens to a female character, then its ramifications should be shown as well. It should not be used as a plot device and then forgotten. And, before it is used, the writers have to question themselves and really ask if they want to do that and what sort of message they want it to send.

Also, the violence against women shown in the list -- how often is it a result of the normal activities, and how often is it because the character has been made helpless and tortured? Again, this sends a message. There has to be an AWARENESS of what is being said and the question raised, "Do we want to make that statement?"

A female soldier in battle may suffer wounds; that's different than a woman being stalked, kidnapped, and having violence done to her in civilian life. The former incurs the physical damage because of her occupation; the latter, strictly because of her gender. A female cop may be shot because she is a cop, not because she is a female. That, to me, is part of the difference.

(John Ostrander)

Which, by and large (and obviously setting aside how repeated use of the word ‘female’ always weirds me the fuck out because whatever Ostrander is an older gentleman and his language often reflects that), I mostly agree with? Like, no one has ever asked that women characters NEVER get hurt or put in life-threatening situations or struggle with feelings of helplessness or whatever, those are stakes that are used pretty universally in these stories. The problem is the overall tone and approach of applying those tropes to women, when and where it becomes markedly different from when those tropes are applied to men.

I mean, the problem with Ostrander’s presentation of this point is that, I think, it leaves room for dude writers to do what they’ve always done, which is to write stories where horrible disempowering, violating, fatal things happen to women characters and then say “well but I didn’t write this because she’s a woman, I wrote it because she’s a superhero or a soldier or whatever” - just because something awful happens to a woman character and it makes sense within the narrative doesn’t mean it’s immune from carrying all the baggage of this ... stuff. No story exists in a vacuum, if you’re going to write a story with sexual assault you need to consider context, time, place, tone, audience, POTENTIAL audience, scale, structure, etc and then really, really, REALLY ask yourself about your own motivations. Which I think is what he’s getting at, I guess I am mainly just picking on phrasing at this point.

But, whatever. Thinking about it. I feel like “women in refrigerators” is one of those 101-level concepts that gets referenced in weird ways a lot today, kind of like how people always talk abut “the Bechdel test” as though it was some kind of gold standard that made media feminist and not a very specific cultural thing rooted in a very specific cultural experience (specifically a lesbian experience), the ramifications of which are a lot more broad and complex than just saying “if this movie has two named women and they talk to each other about something other than a man It’s Feminist and if a movie doesn’t have that it’s Not Feminist”.

#important 90's comics scholarship #women in refrigerators #ethical storytelling #rape tw #gendered violence

17 notes · View notes

goodluckdetective · 7 years

Note

How does Marvel's latest fuckery with its comics factor into its MCU holdings? How much would a boycott on the next Cap movie hurt the company vs. boycotting the X-Men comic? And would the execs / board of direcs be able to understand that they're losing money because of the fuckery?

Oh wow. Well, that’s a complicated question, that I would generally take to an economist rather than little old me. But I got my group of comics pals together and we talked about this at length, so here’s what answer I can give you solely from a comic books perspective.

First off, X-Men isn’t a comic as much as it is a line. Don’t get me wrong, there is an X-Men comic, but there are quite a few of them (All New X-Men, Extraordinary X-Men, Uncanny X-Men, and just plain X-Men, and this is just books that have X-Men in the title, not including books where Magento may show up). As a result, there’s not one X-Men book and even if there was, the X-Men titles aren’t directly related to the issue at hand. The book/event that features this cover is “Secret Empires” not the X-Men line itself (as of yet). But I guess to explain that, I should explain a bit about comics continuity and events in general.

So events are what they sound like: they’re big sort of storylines that involve a large cast over a long span. They can be anywhere from a month or two to six or more, depending on scope. For example, the original series of Civil War was an event.

Events take two forms, generally. Sometimes events are their own thing in their own book. The storyline of the event is, for the most part, solely contained in it’s own comic run, and while events from it can impact other books, you don’t need to read things outside the event title to get the story.

Then there are events that are more crossovers: these might have their own book as well, but what separates these from the former is that the storyline is in MULTIPLE books and to follow it you have to read a few different titles. A recent example of this was a tiny event from DC called “Monster Men” which linked into Detective Comics, Nightwing, and I want to say Batman. To follow this story, you had to pick up ALL these books or read recaps online.

Does this sound like a ploy for money? It is! (To be fair to Monster Men, it was a short crossover that was easily skipped by those not interested, and the books involved are usually ones people already pick up in a grouping). Welcome to comics!

Long story short, for events that take place in their own book, you just boycott the book to show your displeasure. For events that take place across other books, then you need to boycott individual issues that tie in as well.

I know this sounds complicated, but unfortunately, it gets worse. When events happen, while only some books are officially tied into an event, the changes from that event can impact the whole line. For example, when Captain America died in Civil War, Cap had to be dead in all the books being made. So if Spencer does make Magneto Hydra, that can pop up in other books across the line if he appears to keep cross book continuity. And since those wouldn’t be labeled with the event, you might not have any idea you’re picking it up until it does.

Now you might ask in response: if this is going to take place across all of Marvel for Cross Continuity then shouldn’t I boycott Marvel as a whole? But that also doesn’t work, because of creator control. In short, sometimes writers can just outright avoid events and what happens in them in their own comics. A “I hate this and so it’s not happening here, officially it’s before/after this nonsense, unofficially fuck that noise.” So if you boycott all of Marvel, you might be punishing books that are either not a part of this nonsense or are made by creators who actively hate this nonsense.

It also should be noted that comic book boycotts aren’t always effective. The big two are an industry that really likes to cater to older, white, straight fans, and while they’re getting better in diversifying their line, sometimes the desire to cater to the original base (aka the base most of our executives belong to) wins out over market practicality. While white, straight, older men are no longer dominating the market, they are still dominating those who decide events and greenlight storylines, and that means the logical financial choice can be thrown aside in favor of personal taste.

TLDR: In short, boycotting events wholeheartedly is a complicated business. The things that I would recommend are boycotting the event book if there is one, and all official tie ins for the event (which are almost always labeled as such). You risk picking up books that may cover the event or feature plot from the event, but directly boycotting the event itself and all tie ins shows directly what you’re mad about instead of lowering sales across the board. I’d also put money into books that support things you want to see in comics, as your buck is the best way to boycott market trends.

As for Captain America movies, I wouldn’t boycott those unless they decide to do Hydra Cap as a plot (unlikely). The MCU is a different universe from the comics, so boycotting the movies won’t really send the message you want as well as boycotting Nick Spencer’s Cap run directly.

#marvel critical #nazi cw #iz replies

23 notes · View notes

zippdementia · 6 years

Text

Part 30 Alignment May Vary: In for the Long Hall (sic)

The water trapped room slams shut behind them as they exit, Karina’s tampering having disrupted it for now. They cannot go back, so the players must go forward. But first, they decide to add a new member to the team.

Long ago, the players defeated an enchantress known as “Rose,” and Karina stole her magic book, setting her on the path to multi-classing into wizard. Now, Karina decides to cast one of the spells she studied so long to learn. She casts find-familiar.

Guts of Barghest. Ground bone dust. A hot fire. Blood of a demon. Purified water. Such were a few of the items in the list of components needed for the spell. Karina did not know where she would have found the guts of a Barghest, but she had seen plenty of bones in her journey, and she happened to have a steady supply of demon’s blood, being a Tiefling. Anyway, Rose’s component pouch (which she had also stolen) had the remainder of the items (at least she guessed the dried out entrails which looked like fat worms were the guts of an unfortunate Barghest).

The rest of the instructions were as complex as the ingredient list, but Karina had studied them for weeks and found, as she did with most things magical, that understanding seemed to come to her less than a gut feeling that led her movements and gave the words she spoke power.

The ritual took an hour to complete, while her companions rested on the landing as best they could, their armor loosened so as to give some relief from its weight.

Near the end of the ritual, things became loud. Booming laughter echoed from the circle she had drawn in chalk on the floor. Smoke exploded in small puffs with sounds like the cracking of skulls. And then, in the midst of one of the puffs of smoke, a shape formed.

It was small. It had wings and also a tail. Its body was humanoid with a few distortions that made the whole thing seem wrong somehow, a hodge podge of elements like the tail and the horns and the flat pig nose and the sharp row of needle-like teeth that lined the too-large mouth.

“Mistress Rose?” the small creature asked. “Moonglum has come back to answer your call!”

It takes a little explanation to get the imp caught up the speed and a little cajoling to get him to agree to work with the party. Then, with her new imp familiar, Karina begins to scout out the remainder of the dungeon, as they plan their next move. Their goal: find the end of the tomb. The obstacle: this isn’t the real tomb.

Haggemoth always knew that his legend would attract tomb robbers and he needed to be left in peace to complete his master plan, his life’s opus. Furthermore, because of the many blockades he had put in place to actually finding his tomb, he knew that anyone who did come would be either (a) a powerful and hungry monster from the jungles of Rori Rama, or (b) a proven group of adventurers who likely had experience in traversing deadly places deep under the world.

Because of this, he built two tombs. First, he dug out tunnels inside the mountain and layered these halls with traps and the trappings of a crazed wizard, hoping to frighten adventurers away (or kill them) before they could get to his real tomb. Only this wasn’t meant to be a tomb. Deep beneath the mountain, Haggemoth has his true home, a place of magical comforts and research, only dangerous because Haggemoth’s final preparations didn’t go as planned and chaos ensued as a result. But more on that later.

For now, the players begin exploring the second part of the upper levels, rooms 17-25 on the map below. With Moonglum looking for traps and dangers, they soon discover that there are dangers all around them, including walls that slam together and a strange fungal growth breaking through the secret door leading to room 19. Room 20 controls the water trap, but there is a dead man here with his face burnt off from steam. They take his helmet of telepathy and some unidentified healilng potions he had on them, which they get very nervous about when I tell them (innocently) to record them as “Dead Man’s Potions” (note to self: if you want your players to drink a potion, maybe don’t put “dead” in its title).

The biggest threat comes from the shaded hallway to the east, amrked 23 on the map. This is a complex conveyor belt trap whose function they discover by using the crystal ball from the tomb of Udo the Grey and some experimentation. When activated, it turns the floor into two conveyor belts that run towards the middle of the hall, depositing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught on them into a set of industrial strength grinders that can easily be an instant kill (or at least a permanent loss of a limb). This terrifies them, rightly so, and they decide they need to find a way to turn this trap off before proceeding.

Eventually the players proceed north, which they deem the most safe passage, taking a winding set of stairs down to a large room with a single solitary statue...

Cloaked

“That has to be a trap,” Karina said to the group.

“Oh most certainly,” Tyrion said.

“It would seem to make sense,” Xaviee added.

“Why would it be trapped?” Abenthy asked, the one voice of dissent.

The statue in question was tall and seemed very old, judging by the battered feet and the areas where paint had peeled away and become mildewy in the cold damp of the chamber. They couldn’t see much beyond the feet, for draped over the statue was an old leather cloak, large enough to cover most of its features.

Karina’s mind went through a half dozen possibilities, none of them good. Was the statue a hibernating gorgon, having been defeated at last moment by a cloak of slumber wrapped over it? Would they release its terrifying gaze when they removed the cloak? Or was this the sign of a lurking basilisk, who waited for adventurers to wander into its lair and then trapped them here? Karina quickly looked over her shoulder at the one entrance to the room, almost sure she could hear soft padding footsteps descending the stairs towards them. Maybe the cloak was magically cursed, set here to entice adventurers, and then draining them of their abilities the longer they wore it.

“Let’s leave,” she said. “This is too obvious, too easy. We need to leave this room now.”

If Abenthy heard the panic in her voice, he ignored it. “We leave no stone unturned. It’s the only way we will find Haggemoth. Justice will protect us.”

And saying no more, he reached for the cloak. They had a glimpse of the statue underneath, the face either worn smooth by the years or left blank intentionally by its creator. Either way, it was non descript, and it did not come to life to attack them. But the cloak shifted in Abenthy’s hands, wrapping itself around his arm, his chest, his face. Before any of them could react, it was pressed tight against him and they could hear a terrible grinding and gnashing, accompanied by a muffled yell of dismay, as something wet and messy happened underneath the cloak.

Xaviee ran forward, but suddenly a whiplike tail emerged from the folds of leather and its spiked end caught him in the chest. He coughed once, then collapsed in a crumpled heap. Tyrion ran to help him.

Karina lowered her bow and instead conjured up a skeletal hand, which clawed and pulled at the cloak, leaving dark red splotches where its necrotizing touch damaged whatever the thing was, but it was unable to break it away from Abenthy.

Abenthy fell to one knee, making a deep choking sound.

“It’s suffocating him!” Karina yelled.

“Working on it,” Tyrion mumbled, as he drew his lute and began to strum madly at the instrument. The melody that came forward sank deep into Karina. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck and made her feel ill, like the world was tilting madly. The sensation passed quickly, thankfully, but that was because it wasn’t targetted at her. The creature left Abenthy with a deep sorrowful moan, peeling away to reveal a wingspan like that of a Manta Ray, and a pale underbelly with a gaping fanged hole. The creature drifted into the air as if on an unseen wind and gracefully floated from the chamber. Karina darted forward behind it and slammed the door shut.

“A Cloaker!” Karina said. “We have to hold the door!”

“What in the bloody hell is a cloaker?” asked Tyrion, running to join her. Xaviee limped after him, to add his weight to the door.

“What we just saw—that’s a Cloaker. Abominations, they inhabit the old places of the world. Not very common to see one anymore. They live on rodents, mostly, but aren’t adverse to a larger meal when they can get one.”

The door suddenly shuddered, as the fear spell wore off and the Cloaker came back, seeking its prey.

“For something that seemed made of cloth, it certainly packs a punch,” Tyrion said as the door shuddered again and cracks appeared in the thick wood.

“Open them, and I will tear the beast in half,” Abenthy growled, getting to his feet. The Aasimir’s face was a hideous red color, punctured in multiple spots by deep circular wounds from which blood flowed freely. He staggered towards the door, drawing his longsword with a schinking sound that hung in the air like a spell. He flung open the door and raised the blade... but nothing was there.

“Tricky creatures, cloakers,” Karina said quietly. “We have to be on guard. They can disguise themselves in the most clever of ways. I read about them in that book from Celaenos. One man, Vollo, describes how a Cloaker settled over a pit trap, looking just like the floor. When Sir Griswald stepped on it, it dropped him onto the spikes and then floated down while he was impaled to feast on him. It kept him alive while it ate, and left him ultimately to bleed out on the spikes. We need to keep our eyes open.”

As she talked, the four companions had begun to ascend the spiraling staircase out of the room, keeping their eyes everywhere: ceiling, floors, walls, cracks in the walls.

Then, as they came to the top of the stairs, they saw in front of them a hanging leathery curtain. It definitely had not been there before and its level of conspiciousness in the setting of the tomb was ridiculous.

“Clever, huh?” Abenthy said, and strode forward to rip the Cloaker in half.

And that’s what happens when a Cloaker rolls a critical failure on a hide check.

The Long Hall

“We are not alone.”

Moonglum was shaking as he said it, the tiny imp looking over his shoulder and biting his long fingernails in a display of fear that would be comical if they weren’t inside a deadly tomb.

When he described the creature that had pulled itself from a crack in the ceiling back near the water room, the three companions knew that the skeletal centipede-like monster had caught up with them. They stood in the place where the four corridors came together, the only light Tyrion’s magically illuminated hand. Their voices were soft but still cast unsettling echoes all around them.

“We are dead,” Abenthy said.

“Not so,” Tyrion chided. “What if we run? We have the headstart on it? We could lock ourselves in the statue room and hold our ground, or run through the long hallway.”

Abenthy scoffed. “So we either make a last stand or sprint over a deadly trap? Doesn’t seem like that would improve our odds.”

“Where is your optimism?” Tyrion asked with a grin that was more than half manic.

“I am practical, not optimistic. False optimism only leads to grave dissappointment.”

“I believe you about the grave part, certainly.”

“Quiet, all of you,” Karina said, who had been studying the hallway in front of them with rapt attention. “We have only moments to pull this off.”

In seconds she explained the plan. They would bait the creature, using her illusion magic to create a false image on the trapped long hallway of the party. If the skeleton bought the illusion, it would hopefully charge and then be caught by the trap. There was only one catch...

“To cast that spell, you have to be within sight of the hall,” Tyrion said. As a fellow student of magic, he knew the restrictions. “Which means it will walk right past you.”

Abenthy looked from one of them to the other. “Can you drink our potion of invisibility?”

“No,” Karina responded. “The casting of the spell will cancel the effects of the potion. I will have to trust that it is more interested in the illusion than in me. I have my boots of Elvenkind and my cloak, I may be able to—”

“No.” Abenthy’s voice was firm. “No, we will come up with another plan. We will make our stand in the statue room. I do not like this. It puts you in too much danger.”

Karina tilted her head slightly and regarded Abenthy with the deep black pools of her eyes, hearing somethign in his voice that she had never detected, or suspected before.

“I don’t like it either,” she said gently. “But we cannot stand against that thing, nor run from it. We are weaker and slower. But we may be smarter. It is our only chance.”

Before she could say more, Xaviee emerged from the darkness, breathing heavily. “I saw it. And it saw me. It’s coming. We have moments to run.”

Abenthy looked sideways at Karina. “We are not running,” he said. “Karina has a plan.”

Thirty seconds later, Abenthy, Tyrion, and Xaviee had disappeared down to the statue room, using the helmet of telepathy to keep in touch with Karina, who was now alone at the crossroads. Down the hallway, an image of Tyrion and Abenthy sat with their backs against a wall, seeming to sleep. She hoped it was enough. The image seemed distorted to her eyes. There was a limit to this kind of illusion, and she was pushing it past its boundaries. Abenthy was squatter than in real life, Tyrion’s clothes less colorful. They made no sound—she wished she could make them make sound—and altogether she felt that if she were to see the image in the hallway, she would question it. But then, these were her companions. To her they meant friendship, comraderie, and life. To the monstrosity they were food, perhaps, or maybe just interlopers in its world, something to be killed. To such a beast, the details might not matter.

She heard the sound of bone scraping against stone as the creature emerged into the fourway corridor. She pressed herself back against the wall, not daring to breath, trying to control her shaking. It was huge. It didn’t have hands. The bones that made up its arms and legs were sharp and stunted into tusk-like appendages that it slammed into the floor and wall to steady its bulk as it moved along the corridor. This close, she could see the dried blood on its front arms. Her blood, she realized, from when it had attacked them before.

The creature pulled itself along the corridor, barely ten feet from her. Its skeletal head turned back and forth and she heard a raspy sigh emerge from it. It looked at her and paused. But it was only an instant. Then the head moved on and saw what she had put down the hallway. It rasped again. Its four front arms lifted up like the mating sign of a praying mantis. It tapped the bones against the walls in a stacatto beat.

And then it turned back towards her hiding place.

No, she thought, and it was all the time she had before the thing was moving. But it wasn’t moving towards her. Its head snapped back to center as it screeched and charged the illusion she had made. And a moment later the hallway was filled with noise as the floor came alive. The floor stones lifted and sunk back into the wall, pieces of granite and an ocean of dust cascading off of it as it shifted. Underneath the stone was a moving belt. The floor tilted downward slightly and the belt was pulling the creature forward towards the grinders at its center, massive metal discs that cracked together like the teeth of some angry god. The skeleton’s own momentum was its downfall. It tried to skitter to a halt, but its speed was incredible and its body whipped around on the belt, turning it to face Karina, pulling it backwards until it got caught by those teeth and with a scream began to be eaten by them.

Karina watched in fascination as the bones exploded into fine white powder as half of the skeleton’s body was pulled between the grinders. Only briefly did they seem to halt under the enormouse beast being fed them. But they never truly stopped and the speed at which they decimated the bone was shocking.

But then the beast was moving, pulling itself up. Appendages dug into the stone walls and it ripped itself front half free from the lost back half. The torso began to climb up to the ceiling and then back towards her. She tried to raise her bow, but fear had finally taken hold of her mind. It was coming, so fast for something so injured, and she could do nothing, and her plan had failed afrer all.

Not failed, a voice in her head said.

Abenthy was there beside her, then. He tapped the telepathy helmet on his head knowingly and smiled for the first time in weeks. A flash of light erupted near him as Tyrion cast spell after spell at the creature, his bardic voice singing out the words to the spells. Xaviee was firing arrows at the beast. And then Abenthy cast his own spell and a massive spectral greatsword appeared in front of the creature. It sliced and the bones came free from the ceiling. It fell with a cry and was carried backwards again, into the grinder, into its doom.

And then the halls of Haggemoth echoed for the first time in their history with the sound of cheers and victory.

Noxious Growth

The companions cheer does not last forever. They have just seen a massive beast get chewed to dust by the trap in front of them and are understandably wary of approaching it themselves. They know that there are devices in this dungeon which shut down traps and so they determine to find the one for this hallway.

On a (correct) hunch, they head south, to the room where they found a secret door with a fungal growth coming through it. Abenthy, immune to disease, opens the door, enters room 19, and...

Even knowing that whatever spores or infection lingered here could not hurt him due to his divine background, Abenthy could not help but cover his mouth and nose as he entered the room, as if it could actually help protect him.

The room was thick with fungus. Every spot of the floor and walls were covered in a violet tapestry of interwoven strands of mold. Every step he took, his steel clad feet crushed the delicate rug and sent up explosions of a violet dust—more of the spores, he knew. It was impossible to tell what the room’s purpose had once been. Its only decoration now was a body.

It was a curious corpse. It hung suspended at the far end of the room, wrapped in a thick web of the mold strands. It was definitely humanoid, but its features had eroded, leaving fungal growths where limbs should have been. The feet were still barely discernible, though melded together into a fleshy mass. The head lacked most features except a gaping, too-wide hole where perhaps the mouth had once been.

As Abenthy stared, that mouth suddenly closed and then opened and a clicking sound began to emerge from it, like a tongue rapidly tapping against the roof of a mouth. The body began to gyrate madly in its prison. Abenthy raised his shield and only this saved him from death. Acid spewed forth from the mouth in a projectile vomit that went fifteen feet across the room, splashing against the shield. Even so, the air around Abenthy suddenly shimmered with heat and his lungs burned as spores began to burst into small explosions all around him. He grabbed a javelin from his side and threw it, cleanly impaling the gyrating corpose. It clicked at him in response and continued to push at the confines of its webbing. Abenthy backed up and bumped into something. He spun, ready to see another of the creatures having snuck up behind him, but it was Karina, her eyes wide at the sight of the horrendous room.

“Out!” she commanded, and then she pointed a hand at the creature. A skeletal hand ripped at its chest and the effect was terrifying to see. Where the claws touched, the fungus rotted and died, almost instantly. A gaping wound was left in the creature’s chest and it screamed for the first time, a horrible half human sound like a man trying to cry for help from underwater. The creature strained again and this time the webbing broke and it fell to what passed for its feet. Then it was charging them...

This is yet another time I have dipped into Kobold Press’ Tome of Beasts. It really is the second monsters manual I always wanted from DnD 5 and my most used third party supplement. First of all, it has some tough monsters, nicely filling out the later level gaps left by the original MM. Also, each encounter, whatever the CR, is simply interesting. Each monster has a mechanic that adds to the tactics of the system, whether it is dealing with poisons, grapples, pushes and shoves, or diseases (as in this case). I drew inspiration from this book to create several of my own monsters, including the Skele-Pede and I can’t recommend it highly enough for 5th Edition DMs.

This particular beastie is a Mindrot Thrall and I cannot detail exactly what its infectious spores do, because it is very possible that at least one of my non-Aasimir players has become infected by it and I don’t want to spoil the surprise when they read this.

Suffice to say, they do end up defeating the creature, as it vomits forth acid and spores and makes a mess of the rooms. They then push on, find the trap mechanism, and clear the way for next time’s post: Ever Deeper.

#dnd 5e #playthrough #tomb of haggemoth #Tome of Beasts #Kobold Press #epic #Dungeons and Dragons #Journey Log #Wizards of the Coast #fantasy #RPG

1 note · View note