The Sedition Factory

This is an RP blog for the historical figure Isaiah Thomas, born in 1749. Leading up to the Revolution he was a newspaper editor in Boston and printed a Patriot paper known to most as The Massachusetts Spy. He was good friends with the likes of Paul Revere, Joseph Warren, and John Hancock and many historians suspect his shop was regularly used as a meeting place for the Sons of Liberty. // This is a multi-verse, indie blog. The mun is 21+ and Isaiah's faceclaim is Zachary Quinto.

[forgeofsedition]

Alright y’all, the time has finally come!  This blog is going dormant and the new multi-muse blog is finally ready!  *Celebration plays in the background*

Because this message is long (and I know some of y’all’s dashes are about to get flooded) everything else will be under the ‘Read More.’  ^_^

For anyone getting ‘swamped’ by this message because you follow me in multiple places, I sincerely apologize.  This is the best way I know to inform both my partners and my followers.  On the bright side, you can always start unfollowing all of the old blogs because I don’t imagine I’ll be using them for much anymore. Or, if you want to keep them around for some reason, you can blacklist the tag: ‘Moving Day is at Hand’ (And if you get that reference, we should be friends... if we’re not already.  <3)

Sadly, the new blog isn’t very mobile-friendly at the moment - not if you’re using the app - but I haven’t decided on the best way to deal with that yet… or if I’ll even try.  If it’s a deal-breaker for you, please let me know.  I’ll probably pick your brain for ideas on how to handle things.

Everything else is up and running smoothly (I think.)  All 32 muses have decently extensive info pages and a plethora of tags to make everything easily searchable (or blacklistable, if desired.)  

I haven’t reblogged any ‘aesthetic’ type posts for anyone yet (not unless they fall into another category, too.)  My plan is to randomly queue those kinds of posts.  I’m not sure how many I’ll queue per day, but if you follow and it feels like too much (or not enough) let me know and I’ll adjust things.

As for current RPs - here’s my plan:

If I owe you a reply, I’ll be giving you that reply on my new blog just as soon as I can.  ^_^  On those replies, I’ll have a permanent link to our RP on the old blog so we can both easily access it.  Not sure about y’all, but memory refreshers help me stay on point… most of the time.  ;)

If you owe me a reply, I’m going to repost my last reply on the new blog - so you might see new notifications pop up for old things.  I don’t think that will throw anything off too much.  (I hope.)  But if you use RP Thread Tracker, then it’ll change the date of my last reply.  Or it won’t show up at all if you have your tracker set up to only track this specific blog for replies.  Hopefully this won’t make things too confusing.  I’m going to do the same thing for any starters I have, too.  :)

So, here’s the new blog:

MUSE CARAVAN

If there’s anything that doesn’t work the way it seems like it should, let me know.  And if there’s anything else y’all think I should address and haven’t (or that I haven’t addressed well enough) please ask.  I want this transition to be as smooth as possible for everyone, but I need feedback if anything feels off, or I won’t know what needs improvement.  :)

I’ve tagged everyone I think I have a current RP with on this blog.  If, for any reason, you no longer wish to continue the thread/threads found HERE, under the ‘RPs’ tab, please let me know.  I promise there won’t be hard feelings or anything like that.  I just don’t want to spend time moving over a thread you’re no longer interested in.  If you want something else in the future, you’re always welcome to hit me up, and if not, that’s okay, too.  :)

If there’s a thread we have that’s missing from that tab and you still want to write it, let me know that, too.  I had a bit of a snafu with my thread tracker and lost all of my RPs where my partner hadn’t responded to it in over six months.  Some of them I was able to remember, but I suspect some got lost in the ensuing panic as I realized what had happened.  >.<

And finally - right now, I don’t have plans to immediately follow anyone first who’s not a current writing partner.  However, you’re more than welcome to follow me in the new place and I’ll happily follow back.  I want people to follow me because they want to, not because they feel obligated.  <3

Alright, I think that just about covers everything.

Any current partners for Isaiah are tagged here: I honestly think I’ve tagged leatherandsoil enough already this evening.  ;P  <3  But I also need to tag @kettuskinchanger​

[faithfulhound]

Life Update

Hey y'all -

I know I haven’t replied to anyone in a very long time.  Long even for me.  It’s a bit of a story, and still not one I’m sure I’m ready to tell/talk about.  Things are hard right now, and they’ve been hard for awhile.  And I’ve put off saying anything on my RP blogs because I knew I’d probably have to post stuff in several places and I just wasn’t up for that.

First - I’m not going anywhere.  I just needed more time than I thought I would need.  I may still need time; I’m not sure.  But I’m working to be back here and keep writing with those of you who still want to write with me.

Back when things first started to happen, I wanted to share with my partners why I’d gone abnormally quiet, but the thought of telling everyone individually was numbing, and even the thought of making a post and reblogging it a bunch of places didn’t sit well with me, so I just didn’t do it.

It was that choice to not communicate with y'all that brought me to the realization that I needed to fix how I roleplayed.  I recognized that the number of blogs I had was a detriment to my enjoyment of this hobby.  I’ve spent so much time jumping from one blog to another to try and keep up with everything that I wasn’t able to stay and enjoy the things my partners were sharing on their own blogs.  And when I had things I needed to tell y'all, there wasn’t an efficient way to do it.  But I realized I could change that.  And I intend to.

I’m making a multi-muse blog.  It will house all of the muses I want to keep, and any I might decide to add along the way.  It’s about halfway done right now, but I try to work on it a little every day.  With over 30 muses to add, the task is definitely a daunting one.

My plan, right now, is this: If we’re currently writing together I’ll follow your blog/blogs with the multimuse as soon as everything is completed.  If you’d like to know what the blog is right now and pre-follow, just let me know via IM or Discord.  But be aware, part of my preparation involves reblogging things from my old blogs and sometimes it might flood your dash.

For those of you I’m not currently writing with, if you’d like to follow, I’ll make a quick post on most of my old blogs directing you to the new one once it’s ready.  There’s no pressure to follow me there, of course.  I’m just giving you the option if you enjoy my aesthetic posts, or my writing, or think you might want to write with me at some point in the future.  :)

As part of this plan, if I currently owe you a reply, that reply will be posted on the new multimuse when it’s ready.  I know that means waiting longer, but I’m worried if I don’t focus on getting this blog done, it never will be.  Please be patient with me.  💜  If you owe me a reply, it’s 100% okay to reply like normal to the old blog.  Don’t worry about the multimuse right now.  I want to make this transition as seamless as possible for my partners.  I’m planning to have all of my first replies on the multimuse link back to the old thread in case anyone needs refreshing at any point.  None of my old blogs are going anywhere; they just won’t be active blogs anymore.  Except for an occasional post, maybe, to remind people where I’ve moved to.

Okay - that’s everything.  If you’ve read this far, then thank you.  <3  Thank you for your friendship, and your patience, and your understanding.  If, for some reason, you feel like this change isn’t something you can work with, that’s okay, too.  There won’t be any hard feelings on my part.  If you can, please let me know.  I’d rather part ways on mutually amicable terms than not know your decision and be left to wonder what happened.

Thank you, again, and I hope to see many of you on my new blog once it’s ready to go.

~ Mira  💜

P.S.  I’ll be reblogging this a handful of other places (but not everywhere), so for those of you who follow me across several blogs, I apologize in advance .  💜

[romantic-musings]

Ambience of yesteryear

[purpledragongifs]

Outlaws, BBC documentary, 2016.

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[purpledragongifs]

Lensing Liberty - Behind the Scenes in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty

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[purpledragongifs]

American Revolution gifs - Boston Celebration in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty

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[purpledragongifs]

Faceless gifs - Before the Battle of Bunker Hill - in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty.

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[purpledragongifs]

Michael Raymond James as Paul Revere in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty.

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[purpledragongifs]

Happy Holidays from the Sons of Liberty!

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Keep reading

[forgeofsedition]

// Somewhere down the line this will date my blog since I’ve only got two partners here and they’re almost as slow as I am.  LOL!  <3  ;-)  But I’m pretty proud of these, and they were a lot of fun to make, and the person I made them for means a lot to me, so I’m posting them anyway.  ^_^  So - for those of you visiting my blog in the future, enjoy a bit of year-round holiday cheer.  ;-D 🎄

[purpledragongifs]

Farm Landscape gif in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty

Gifs made by purpledragongifs. All gifs are 540px wide.  Please do not delete credits.

[purpledragongifs]

Boston Tea Party Gifs in History Channel’s Sons of Liberty

Gifs made by purpledragongifs. All gifs are 540px wide.  Please do not delete credits.

[forgeofsedition]

kettuskinchanger​:

Promises To Keep ~ Kettu and Isaiah

As he stammered his way through things, Kettu bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but the smile was still there. Her eyes sparkled with playful mischief. “I tried me best, but bindin’ up ye own hands isn’t easy.” Then she chuckled and reached out with her other hand to pat his chest lightly. “But ye are de patient, ta? Don’t ye worry too much ‘bout li’l ol’ me.” 

The hand resting on his chest stayed for a lingering moment, while her gaze moved down his body to his wounds. Then her hand moved to grip his upper arm firmly. “Isaiah,” Her tone had changed, no longer playful or easy going, but serious and insistent. “Don’t be shy, lad, I don’t want ye hurtin’ yeself all over again. It’s no’ preferable, but at toimes even privacy is suspended fer de sake o’ healin’.” Then she gently reached up to his face, touching his cheek, “I mean no’ t’ upset ye, but loife is as it is.” Then the mischief crept back into her features. “I promise no’ t’ laugh.”  Stepping back with a coy grin, she picked up her whittling again, but was looking at her hand as she did. “Let me finish dis fer ye, a chara. Loike as no’ I’ll have more fer ye t’ help bandage when I’m done. It shouldn’t be long. Have ye some water, fresh canteen by ye dere.” She motioned to decorative gourd and wooden container beside him. Inscribed were detailed carvings of frolicking foxes with scrolling Celtic knot-work patterns around them. The style matched the side of the vardo, or rather the carvings on the sides in the deep red wood. It was the fine work of master craftsmen, which was unusual for someone as simple as a little herbalist. 

“I dunno about interestin’.” She had paused to look over her work on the crutch, before speaking to him. “I jus’ tend t’ ramble on, gets too quiet on de road sometoimes.” 

How could he not worry about the woman who’d most certainly saved his life?  He owed her more than he could ever repay.  But the printer felt certain if he argued the matter, she’d simply laugh him off again, so he kept his thoughts to himself for now, content with Kettu at least knowing her well-being concerned him.

Her brilliant gaze held him as steadily as did her hand, the logic of her words sinking in.  Without her help, he was quite likely to hurt himself more.  And, well… if she was being so candid, perhaps there was no harm in him doing the same?  As she went back to her work, Isaiah replied, “I… it isn’t your laughter I fear, dear lady.”  Here he offered her smile that held his feelings of sheepish chagrin.  “Rather the potential for my body to behave… in an ungentlemanly way.”  He took a soft breath before continuing, “You are quite comely, after all, and I… I have no wish to offend or alarm you.”

Isaiah’s eyes followed her gesture, and he welcomed the chance to focus on something else… and to quench the sudden dryness in his throat.  Reaching for it carefully, the printer took the canteen, and drank slowly.  When he pulled the container from his lips, the unique carvings caught his eye.  They were marvelous!  He ran a thumb over them in silent appreciation, and Isaiah couldn’t help but wonder how Kettu had come across such a remarkable piece of craftsmanship.  Not that it surprised him.  She felt like the kind of person who would be equally at home among kings or beggars… and would be welcomed by both.  Still… he couldn’t deny being curious… not just about the canteen… but about Kettu and this ‘other world’ she seemed to live in.   

[forgeofsedition]

American Antiquarian Society on Instagram: “Another week, another #marbledMonday . This is the inside front cover of a 1792 edition of “The Constitutions of the Ancient and Honourable…”

American Antiquarian Society shared a photo on Instagram: “Another week, another #marbledMonday . This is the inside front cover of a 1792 edition of “The…” • See 4,855 photos and videos on their profile.

[forgeofsedition]

Mun vs Muse

So - I had to photoshop Isaiah’s hair because they didn’t have what I wanted... and that clothing is a little more 1800′s than 1700′s, but it’s close enough.  ^_^;

Tagged by @kettuskinchanger

Tagging: Does anyone even know I still use this blog?  LOL!  Anyway, if you see this and want to do it, then have fun!

[forgeofsedition]

Promises To Keep ~ Kettu and Isaiah

[forgeofsedition]

kettuskinchanger‌:

By the time he woke again, there was a small stack of drawings for him. Two sets in fact, the originals she did as well as she could to make them look realistic, and another done in a more simple style, still quite easy to recognize and holding to reality, but drawn in such as way as they would be easier for him to print should he want to. She had even thought of that, it seemed. The industrious little woman was not far away, sitting on a cushion close to him.She didn’t seem to notice he had awoken yet, and was busy on her new project. A crutch. It was clearly too tall for her, but she was making it for him. For the moment she was also a touch indecent. One leg was tucked neatly under her, with the knee up to rest the pole of the simple crutch on, but the other was stretched out, her ankle hooked over the wood. The ground was disturbed where the end sat, it had bounced around quite a bit before she had secured it with her leg. Pale skin that was coated in freckles everywhere. Her bare foot was pressed against the now smooth wood. Bits of bark lay all around from where she had stripped the pole. The end rose in a heavy prong, and she was currently whittling on that to make it more comfortable for him to use. This also was the cause of three of her fingers being wrapped in cloth bandages, one of which was quite red through the cloth, the other two were smaller and didn’t appear to be problematic. Her eyes were focused on her work, looking bright still in the tent, and the tip of her tongue poked out as she concentrated. Her father and brothers may have been carpenters, but she had not learned the trade much at all it seemed, for though she was certainly getting somewhere with her work, it was a painstaking project. 

Sparing half a glance she saw her patient was awake, and that much distraction caused her hand to slip again. With a hiss and a soft curse in a foreign language, she drew her hand to her mouth and sucked the new wound. Then she smiled sheepishly around her thumb at Isaiah. This cut was minor, and it stopped bleeding in moments. She set the crutch down and grinned. “Do ye feel better? I thought I’d get dis done before ye woke so ye could… erm… tend t’ ye needs on ye own if ye wanted.” One shoulder bobbed in a little shrug, she had changed at some point, into a new dress. This one had a wider neck, and seemed a little older, it hung over her shoulder, baring it as she shrugged it. In truth she had fallen on wet leaves into the stream and though she was dry now, her other dress was still hanging out to dry some more. “If ye can’t manage, I’ve helped wit’ it before. Me last patient actually had burned bot’ hands, so I sorta had t’ do… well e’ert’ing fer him. Ne’er new a lad could turn so many shades o’ red!” She giggled, and got to her feet, stepping to his side where she knelt again, leaning in to touch his forehead. “Ah, ye feel better! But we should keep water goin’ in ye. Lost too much blood ye did.” What she wouldn’t give for coconut milk then, it would be a better hydration medium than plain water, since she couldn’t get anything better in this time period. But she would have to make do with what she had. “I haven’t found a spring by here, but I did find a stream, so I boiled de water, an’ added some berries an’ mint, it’ll help it settle in ye stomach.” Rocking back onto her heels a little, she tucked her skirt around her knees and leaned her head on them. “Don’t let me prattle on loike I do, lad, I’ll chatter until ye ears fall off.” Her lips were curved in a sweet and somewhat coy smile, and she watched his eyes as she spoke, not shy about being close to him at all. 

“What do ye feel up t’ doin’ now? I don’t wanna push ye, but, if ye lay too long ye get bed sores an’ all stiff up. Can’t have dat, can we?”

He couldn’t take his eyes away from the sight of her there...although the gentleman in him told him he should look away.  But, by God!  She stirred things in him that Isaiah hadn’t felt for the fairer sex in quite some time.  It wasn’t just her beauty (though that was impossible to ignore.)  It was her courage and kindness and determination.  It might also have been the cute way her tongue stuck out as she worked.  The printer wondered if Kettu did that when she was drawing, too?

Suddenly, she glanced up and he was caught staring!  Flushing, Isaiah immediately looked away, only to look back when Kettu cried out in pain.  But she was smiling… so maybe it hadn’t been too bad?  Although one of the earlier cuts seemed to be seeping heavily though its bandage…

Her words sank in a little slowly.  Tend to… Oh!  The printer felt himself flushing all over again… which wasn’t helped in the slightest as Kettu’s dress slid off one shoulder.  Isaiah forced himself to look away.  “I-I think it might be best if I… w-well… ah, you know…did things for myself.”  If they attempted any other way, she might discover a few new shades of red thanks to him.

“I don’t mind your talking,” he promised, watching her watch him.  “You always seem to have something interesting to say.  As for what I feel up to doing…”  Isaiah’s gaze dropped to the woman’s bandaged hands.  “One of those looks like it needs to be re-wrapped.  Can I help you with that?  And then afterwards… maybe I should test out all your hard work.”  He nodded to the crutch she’d been so diligently working on.  “See how it feels trying to make my way around?”

[forgeofsedition]

Promises To Keep ~ Kettu and Isaiah

[forgeofsedition]

kettuskinchanger‌:

Kettu thought about what he said about wanting some of her art. If she found Eamonn again she would steal some of his. Even his doodles put her to shame. And he was always trying to find places for his sketches. “Well, we’ll see when ye are better, hm?” Her tone was warm and soft, caring more about his health than drawings. Barter? She wasn’t certain if he had anything she needed now.  “I can’t say I would turn any away who came t’ me fer help, a chara.” The woman said with conviction. “Sent by ye words or ot’erwise. I’m o’ de belief day any wounded deserve help.” Letting out a soft and weary sigh, she shook her head. “I was near a battle, when it took place. Days o’ fighting, guns and screamin’…” Her eyes closed, scrunching tightly for a moment to drown out the echo of the memory and ward away any tears. “Didn’t matter what side a lad was on, when I found ‘em wounded I did me best.” But even with her knowledge and skill, there was often little she could do. “I hate war.” She concluded, looking down at the ground. “It’s ridiculous, pompous arrogant men in tall buildings, wearing finery an’ eatin’ well, sendin’ troops t’ bully and cause trouble, until it boils over into blood.” Shaking her head rapidly, she slapped her hands over her ears. “They don’t know de truth o’ it. Bastards.” With another sigh, she forced herself to relax, and let the memories slide back into recesses in her mind, “So a few poor men at me doorstep can’t hold a candle t’ dat.” Feeling guilty for becoming emotional, she rose, placing his tea in his hands before she adjusted his pillows and blankets to keep him comfortable and warm. “Drink up, lad. Life is better after a good cup o’ tea. Real tea.” And she lifted a hand to feel his forehead, just to be certain. She seemed pleased he was doing better and she settled back with her own tea. “I want ye t’ drink dat den try t’ get some sleep. Ye still have t’ rest an’ recover.”

She sat with him and drank the tea, before she rose to clean up the dishes from it. The woman returned only to insist he lay down and get his rest before she went back go her wagon and stayed in there for some time. When she thought he would be well enough asleep, she crept out with a journal in hand, and her little wooden hinged box of fine charcoals and colored ones. Sitting on the runner along the side of her wagon between the wheels, she had her head bowed over the paper. She set to illustrating in the best detail she could, not only the plants used in the medicines she had used upon him, but also what was in the tea she had served. These she would present to him. Gradually as she sat there, she hummed a tune, and that turned into softly singing the gentle song, in Irish.

“When I’m better,” Isaiah agreed with a small smile.  Work like hers would make a fine addition to the journal he had planned.  And people liked illustrations, he’d found.  Having pictures interspersed between the text made the publication easier on the eyes as they read.

Isaiah smiled, not surprised by Kettu’s response to people seeking her out.  She was a good, kind woman and he would’ve expected no less.  “I would never expect you to turn away the injured,” he replied, voice softer now.  “I was referring more to those who might come just to catch a glimpse… or to gawp.”  There were also those who might come to cause her trouble… especially is they suspected her of helping both sides.  The printer wished he could rise and comfort her as Kettu spoke of what she’d heard… witnessed.  “I… am sorry for what you’ve gone through… what many innocents are going through still… what you may yet go through in the days to come.  War isn’t kind - not even to those who deserve such kindnesses.”  He sighed, thinking over his own part in all that had taken place thus far.  “But we’d exhausted all of our rational options… the only choice left was to fight… or do nothing.  And nothing was no choice at all.  Do you see?”

A profound tiredness washed over Isaiah all of a sudden… but not from his injuries.  It was more of a mental exhaustion.  What if this was all for nothing?  What if they lost?  What if all of their sacrifices would one day be forgotten?  He hated that Kettu had already been harmed by the war… even as she stayed so far removed from it.  But what could he say, except ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again?  Accepting his tea, Isaiah did as he was told without question, drinking deeply. “I suppose now would be a bad time to mention I make a terrible patient,” he said with a chuckle.  “The man who raised me… he didn’t believe in time off.  I learned to work through whatever might be ailing me.  These days my aches and pains are often something I ignore strictly out of habit.”  Not that he wanted to intentionally make things difficult for her.  Not if he could help it.

When the woman left him to his own devices, Isaiah did sleep a bit.  Or rather, on and off again.  His worries of the future (not just his, but that of the people and land he loved) kept his thoughts restless and his dreams fraught with every outcome he feared the most.  It wasn’t until Kettu’s soft song reached his ears that the man finally began to settle, slipping what might’ve been the most restful sleep he’d had in ages.  Although the tune wasn’t a familiar one, it brought back fond memories of similar lilting songs as they reverberated through the rafters of a dusky tavern while he shared drinks with his friends.  If only it could be that way again…  Her song carried Isaiah into dreams of what had been… what he hoped would be again one day.  Only… there was something new now… or someone.  Twirling around the edges of it all was a woman with fiery red hair and a laugh that seemed to dance through him.  Friend?  Lover?  Muse?  He didn’t know.  But regardless of her role, he welcomed her presence and allowed himself to be comforted by it as sleep took him deeper still.

[spaacemusings]

                                                war is a slippery slope.

                                                  what would you do?                                                          becomes                                                     what will you do?                                                          becomes                                              my god, what have you done?

                                                    you meant so well.