Welcome to the collage of me! Blog is run 90% by Melwa (sister) but Mellon (brother) may chime in on occasion. Always clean (edited versions of others' posts are tagged under #abridged to avoid profanity), mostly fandom related posts. Fandoms include a bunch of classics, sci-fi shows, and fantasy novels such as: Narnia, Tolkien, Marvel, Doctor Who, musicals, Cosmere, Star Wars & Trek.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Iron Room (4023 words) by Persephone_Kore
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: The City Between - W.R. Gingell
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Pet's parents, Pet's parents & Zero, Pet's parents & Athelas, Zero & Athelas
Characters: Pet's Mother (The City Between), Pet's Father (The City Between), Zero (The City Between), Athelas (The City Between)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, No Love Lost AU, that obvious team ensemble: Zero and Athelas and Pet's parents!
Series: Part 3 of No Love Lost AU
Summary:
In the years after Ruth's death in the new timeline and before her arrival from the old one, her parents occasionally help Zero with his work. It's usually a little more sedate than this, really. Hard-pressed by enemies, the obvious team ensemble is captured in a room that's very unhealthy for fae.
Dual-POV for reasons of pure self-indulgence; Athelas first, then Pet's mum.
Now complete!
Writing h/c and realizing that my sympathetic frustration with my blorbo must be how God feels sometimes. When we're like ">:( Why did you let this bad thing happen??" I think the answer is sometimes "Because the only way to give you this gift involved a situation that you immediately made MUCH harder than necessary by your reaction," and hoo boy is that not an answer I like hearing. What do you MEAN I should trust the omnipotent loving God who runs my life is doing a better job of it than I would?? 🤦
Chapters: ½
Fandom: The City Between - W.R. Gingell
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Pet’s parents, Pet’s parents & Zero, Pet’s parents & Athelas, Zero & Athelas
Characters: Pet’s Mother (The City Between), Pet’s Father (The City Between), Zero (The City Between), Athelas (The City Between)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, No Love Lost AU, that obvious team ensemble: Zero and Athelas and Pet’s parents!
Series: Part 3 of No Love Lost AU
Summary:
In the years after Ruth’s death in the new timeline and before her arrival from the old one, her parents occasionally help Zero with his work. It’s usually a little more sedate than this, really. Hard-pressed by enemies, the obvious team ensemble is captured in a room that’s very unhealthy for fae.
Dual-POV for reasons of pure self-indulgence; Athelas first, then Pet’s mum.
—-
Many thanks to @incomingalbatross for recommending the series, which has been eating my attention for some months now and for inviting me to play in her AU. Thanks to both her and @onaslansside for plotting and encouragement.
Sorry this is late, but I wanted to send an ask for Conversation Hearts Exchange!
I didn't get a chance to reread it this February, but I love The Scarlet Pimpernel! My mom read it aloud to us when we were early teens, and that's one of my favorite memories. Every time she put it down, we would beg her to keep reading! I didn't know the twist of the Pimpernel's identity going in, so that moment when we finally put it together was such a complete surprise. Marguerite is such a well-written leading lady, and we loathed Chauvelin. Thanks for the rec! It's such a fun book.
Hello! I'm so glad to encounter another Scarlet Pimpernel fan! It would make an excellent family read-aloud, I approve! I first encountered it in high school as suggested reading material for History; then I discovered that there were about a dozen sequels and spent the next few months acquiring them all from the library/Amazon. I spoiled myself for the plot twist identity reveal halfway through chapter one by accident because I rarely use bookmarks, so I can attest there's plenty of fun to be had reading it with foreknowledge as well. I personally much prefer Sir Andrew to Marguerite, he's got such a hard balance to maintain in trying to be a true friend to both Percy and Marguerite at the same time. And yes, Chauvelin is such a satisfying villain to see defeated, with such detailed schemes for the League to escape the clutches of!
Thanks for the message, and I'm sorry it took so long to gather enough spoons to respond. Hope you're having a lovely day!
(2793 words) by Melwa
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The City Between - W.R. Gingell
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Zero (City Between) & Athelas (City Between), Pet's parents & Zero, Pet's parents & Athelas
Characters: Athelas (City Between), Zero (City Between), Pet's parents (City Between)
Additional Tags: No Love Lost AU, City Between spoilers, that obvious team ensemble: Zero and Athelas and Pet's parents!, Pet would be here too but she's dead right now :/, tw drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Fluff, Misunderstandings, I'd like to say the misunderstandings are just from the fae being Dumb but…that's probably not quite fair, neither side is doing a great job of figuring out what the other is thinking
Series: Part 2 of No Love Lost AU
Summary:
It’s been nine months since their daughter’s death.
Slightly less than that since they heard from their fae friends. They’re probably fine.
Endangered crafts list I: Extinct & Critically Endangered
Drawing on the conservation status system used by the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List and the Rare Breeds Survival Trust Watchlist, Heritage Crafts uses a system of four categories of risk to assess the viability of heritage crafts. A heritage craft is considered to be viable if there are sufficient craftspeople to transmit the craft skills to the next generation.
Extinct in the UK
Crafts classified as ‘extirpated’ or ‘locally extinct’ are those which are no longer practised in the UK. For the purposes of this research, this category only includes crafts which have become extinct in the past generation.
Cricket ball making (hand stitched)
Gold beating
Lacrosse stick making
Mould and deckle making
Mouth blown sheet glass making
Critically Endangered
Crafts classified as ‘critically endangered’ are those at serious risk of no longer being practised in the UK. They may include crafts with a shrinking base of craftspeople, crafts with limited training opportunities, crafts with low financial viability, or crafts where there is no mechanism to pass on the skills and knowledge.
c) I would LOVE to become one of a tiny group of experts in a rare art form who can make a living from being called upon the few times it's needed worldwide.
From your list (and @onaslansside 's) I chose The Scarlet Pimpernel.
WOOOOOOO BOY !!!!!
I should have read The Scarlet Pimpernel YEARS AGO what a delight of a book. It manages to check every box for me, Percy is agshdjkdkdfnf goals?!! He is the exact type of guy that younger me imagined myself as during play. Daring rescues, unlikely disguises, laughing in the face of the enemy and the main weapon used being your own wits and acting ability? Zounds! It's my childhood daydreams and backyard escapades come to life and rolled up into one very fashionable fop of a man!
I finished the book last night and have not stopped thinking about it all day, it followed me into my dreams, my every thought is haunted by "Odd's fish!"
AND ✨spoiler alert✨ I STINKING CALLED IT!!!!! I SHOULD HAVE TOLD SOMEONE!!!
As soon as it mentioned that Benjamin Rosenbaum wore a hat that shadowed his face and then also the fact that Chauvelin, the racist he was, would not dare to step near a Jew I KNEW IN MY SOULLLL that it was Percy in disguise. The sheer nerve of the man! The archetype of all my childhood fantasies!!
And Marguerite!! (My great-grandmother's middle name was Marguerite, so that's neat) I love her. In my mind I still love Percy more (which I believe she herself would respect and even demand) but she is such a good character. Flawed and determined to right the wrongs she had inadvertently caused, you can't help but feel for her. She was put through the agonies and I am so glad things worked out in the end- if they hadn't I would have BAWLED.
Hers and Percy's relationship is so, so fascinating to me as well. They are both so completely deranged in love, it's enough to make one sick - and I mean this most positively. I adore them, your honor! They are exactly my flavor of freak. Percy kissing the stairs where her feet had stepped, hello!??? Marguerite sneaking along barefoot in a ditch just for the chance to die beside him!??? Him carrying her in his beaten arms as she whispers sweet nothings to him??!! I am unwell and so are they in the best way possible.
Also raise your hand if you hate Chauvelin. All my friends hate Chauvelin. He has been added to my List of Characters I Absolutely Despise. He was a great villain because he was a terrible man. Reading him was both amusing but also had me gritting my teeth in rage. Is he the originator of the "villain rubbing his hands together" trope? If not, he makes good use of it anyhow.
My favorite part of the book— *looks back at all my highlighted passages about Percy and Marguerite being absolutely, abysmally, pathetically, and freakishly in love with each other* Heh... consider all those tied for first.
My favorite non-them scene is the black pepper snuff scene. I laughed so hard, I physically had to stop and pace around a bit to get myself back under control. It was so funny, 10/10, best get away ever written.
This ask is like a beautiful recommendation to read the book and I think my best response is to let it be that:
Read The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy it is soooooo goooood
The peril of the revolution! The kissing the stairs! The yearning! The pepper incident! The mad journey to warn him! The wonderful wonderful League! The reveal! The other reveal! Experience this delight anywhere books are shared/traded/sold/free.
The Scarlet Pimpernel is the first superhero with a secret alter ego and it's no WONDER he inspired so many other great fictional (and REAL LIFE, TOO) heroes! And then you should go read a bunch of the sequels because they're great too!
DLF, you have discovered my favorite method for spotting Percy in one of his disguises: find whatever side character it would be most handy to be him. Yes, I am aware, the description of him indicates that it is impossible. However. Wouldn't it be neat? And then, lo and behold, there he is.
Hello! I read "Ere", the Queen's Thief fic by bowditch. This was so good! I loved the writing style throughout the whole thing, the vivid little details of Roa and Costis’s and Kamet’s lives there, from the briny field where they spar to the wild near-wreck at sea. I love the understated attention that both Gen and Costis see each other with. They’re both so very devoted to each other but neither can see it! The ending part had my heart in my throat for the entire chase, just when I had thought the poisoned wine would be the last of it. Gen’s spiraling was very well written throughout the fic, it didn’t come as a surprise either when he finally snapped or when he snapped out of it. I loved Costis’s quiet conviction that he wouldn’t die from a fall, and stealing Gen’s inkpot was hilarious! My favorite scenes, I think, were actually Costis and Aris together, when he makes him swear to protect the king even after Costis is hanged for treason, and then when Aris pleads with Gen himself. The continuity of Ion listening through the door was perfect!
Happy day after St. Valentine's Day!
Hello!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I love how well this fic understands the nuances of Costis' relationships, they're all SO good. The "WHY WOULD YOU LIE ABOUT BEING STABBED" conversation is SO funny and EXACTLY something they would do. Yess, the chase is SO nerve-wracking, and yet at that last cliffhanger I found myself as calm as Costis about it. YES, "and I stole your inkpot for the altar" is the tagline for this fic in my mental file. You're so right that even the briefly noted relationships Costis has, like with Aris and Ion are so good. I like the brief glimpses of Teleus and Irene, too.
If you haven't yet looked into bowditch's batman stories, I highly recommend them as well! Like Ere, they have wonderful attention to detail between the lines of characters' relationships, dramatic plots, and both humor and serious intensity.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Hello! I listened to Antshillvania - it was delightful. Very pleasant in its production/voice-acting (apart from the villains perhaps :P), FUN music, a laudatory number of ant puns, good messages... And of course you know how I feel about reconciliation narratives. This is retelling the Archetype of them, and does a good job of it. <3
I definitely wouldn't have found this on my own - thank you for the recommendation!!
Ahha, the bonus rec! "A laudatory number of ant puns" XD it's so true. It took me YEARS to notice "Command-ant." And every time I hear a sermon mention the Parable of the Sower I get the spiders' riddle song stuck in my head. I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
I love the Pirates of Penzance! I have seen multiple stage plays and movies and it's a dream of mine to perform in it someday. I must admit my favorite filmed stage play is from Australia and they have such a great gag of emphasizing "yoooooooooour DUTY!" to Frederick that makes the already silly "slave of duty" even sillier XD. I have seen the 1983 version as well. My favorite part - well, the whole thing, but With Cat-Like Tread and the policemen vs pirates if I had to narrow it down. I also love that Ruth decides to become a pirate.
The policemen: Frederick has betrayed us! Mable: "You know nothing about it! He has acted NOBLY!!" *dreamy eyes*
But everything is great! What is your favorite part/song? Do you have any other favorite Gilbert and Sullivan plays?
Happy Valentine's Day!
Me too! I was shown the stage production with Kevin Kline as the Pirate King, found the movie with him also delightful, and have also seen it live from a community theater group. It makes sense that Aussies would be able to lean into the silliness of the dialogue! With Cat-Like Tread and the policemen vs. pirates is my favorite part, as well! The juxtaposition of the words vs actions in silliness/seriousness is so funny! I got one friend interested in the show simply by playing With Cat-Like Tread for them from the soundtrack, and another one who watched the movie scene of When a Felon's Not Engaged in His Employment going into With Cat-Like Tread, and was therefore persuaded to try watching this stupid show, that I'd been talking about for weeks, from the beginning (and also wound up loving it).
I love a lot of the songs, but I'm particularly pleased to be able to say I can do the fast songs - Modern Major General and It Really Doesn't Matter - at full speed, with the recording or on my own.
I am of the opinion that G&S plays in general take one viewing to go, "Well, that's weird," another to go, "Okay but some of the songs are great," and then at least one more to go, "You know what, this is all nonsense and it's fabulous." I have watched/listened to the Mikado enough times with enough different productions to have almost gotten to that third stage with it, and have seen one stage production of HMS Pinafore that didn't really stick in my head. How about you? Any other favorite G&S?
a thing I have discovered sometimes helps in writing is "okay if I can't get the characters to do what I want, what's the most annoying least narratively useful thing they would possibly do left to their own devices. ...and can I use that."
more often than not it turns out the messy inconvenient not-what-I-planned course of action IS ALSO fun to write.
Another Galaxy Quest fan! *cheers* I love that movie. Every now and then I think about the Grabthar's Hammer line again and am very pleased.
It's my favorite sci-fi show, I think. I've certainly re-watched it the most! I love Alexander, and how he's a serious actor being forced to keep reliving this dumb show over and over and over XD
My family quotes, "Hold, please," from the scene where they're trying to beam the captain up, all the time.
Okay Inklings this year is somehow even LONGER so! First part here, and the next two will be forthcoming over the next couple days. It's just gonna be WAY too long to be in one piece
@inklings-challenge
Link to playlist (not mandatory, just fun, and it's tradition at this point) and a link to part two and part three!
The sounds of life were like a special kind of music to Enver Connally. The chaotic timbre of his squad mates bickering over breakfast, the up and down drumbeat of his heart during sparring. The chirp of a bird in the woods as they patrolled the border, or the wind through leaves.
But war wasn’t music. It was a discordant, aggressive, loud cacophony, assaulting his ears as he tried to stay alive.
One would think he’d be used to it by now. He wasn’t.
A two-note crackle of rifle fire echoed past his ears, and Enver tried not to flinch, gripping his own weapon tighter. Instinctively, he looked back to make sure none of his squad members had fallen, and met only with unfamiliar faces.
He’d been the self appointed guardian of his squad. The one counting heads and lifting spirits.
But that was before the skirmish on the banks of the Aniva River. And now he didn’t know how he fit into this new squad. A mismatched note in an otherwise unhesitating song.
“Eyes up, boys.” Sergeant Kazinsky’s voice was a smooth baritone, like polished river stones pulling them away from fear, weighing them back into reality. “And Rita.” Rita Tanner gave a two fingered salute, the smirk that Enver rarely saw her face without pulling at the scars along her cheeks.
“We’ve got about two miles of ordnance to make our way through,” Kazinsky continued. “If the other team does their job, we’ll have the opposition trapped, and might get out of here before dinner.”
“All we gotta do is not get blown up. Piece of cake.” The quip came from Clifton Ives, as it always did, and Kazinsky shot him a glance that had him straightening, just a little. At his side, Nikan Galanetz was clutching his own rifle, looking like he might be sick. He was the other new member of the squad—just as out of place as Enver felt, but with only six months of experience.
Enver had been there, though it felt like a million years ago. A twinge of sympathy went through him, and he caught the kid’s eye, giving him a little nod. The barest smile crossed Nikan’s face in response. Better than nothing.
“Be ready,” Kazinsky told them. “When our scouts get back—”
There was a rattle of stones and earth, and two more soldiers slid down into the ditch where they were sheltering. Giving a quick salute, the woman in the lead, with wildly curly hair bundled back from her face, said, “Back, Sarge.”
Kazinsky nodded. “Report.”
“We’ve got the numbers,” the woman—Annaleis Esparza. Enver had worked with her as a scout in his old unit, too. She was one of the best—told him, settling into a crouch. Her hand rested on the blade at her side, and Enver tensed. There’s more.
“But,” her companion added. Sean Monahan was an exact contrast to his fellow scout—pale where she was dark, short where she was tall, and twice as superstitious. To say nothing of his pessimism. “They’ve got some top notch casters. There’s a shield up—” Rita cursed, receiving a warning glance from Kazinsky— “and there’s more magic users to spare.”
Great. One of the many downsides about being at war with a counter whose population were 85 percent magic users was, well, everything. Where Harrowdale’s strength was innovation and industry, Alcea’s magic users could match them. Especially with the latest spell, which tore their rifles to bits with ease.
Enver could see Kazinsky realizing the same thing. “Rifles away,” he ordered. “Swords at the ready. Rita, crossbow. Esparza, you’re still a good archer?”
“Better than Sean is,” Annaleis confirmed.
“Time to prove it. Find a vantage point, get some magecopper, and try to pierce that shield.”
“On it, boss.” Annaleis disappeared up the rise, and Kazinsky turned to face the rest of them.
Face grim, he said, “On me.”
“We’re still going in?” Nikan’s voice cracked halfway through his protest, and Clifton laughed, slapping him on the shoulder.
“No choice, brother. Keep moving or start dying.”
Swords slid from sheaths, shields were pulled from backs, and the squad started moving. Kazinsky took the lead, and Enver brought up the rear, one eye on his surroundings and the other on the rookie. Nikan was clutching his sword with a trembling hand, but he didn’t stop. He’s not freezing. And sun knows I froze my first time out. He’d been younger, though. Hopefully.
For a while, the only sound was pebbly dirt crunching underfoot, and the squad’s steady breathing. They were crossing what had been open farmland, before the Alceans had pushed across the border again, trying to claim it as their own. Enver hoped the inhabitants of the burned out farmhouse he saw had been evacuated.
A few more steps. And then he saw it.
Curls of magenta light, swirling up from the grove of willows shrouding the nearby pond. Spell caster.
He didn’t have enough time to recognize the shape it was taking before Clifton shouted, “DOWN!”
This time, Nikan froze, and Enver dove toward him, dropping his sword as a transparent spear of magenta flew through the air, skewering the ground around them. Enver smacked into Nikan, both of them crashing to the ground as it exploded. He felt the impact of shrapnel against his armor, but it didn’t break through, and he rolled to his feet.
And now the Alcean soldiers were appearing, swinging swords illuminated in different colors of light. Spells, imbuing their weapons with powers that Enver never wanted to discover. He found his sword and took a stance, hand tight around the stiff leather grip.
The area around him exploded into combat. Rita was taking shot after shot, crossbow bolts skating across the field. Kazinsky was at her back, fending off an approaching duo. Enver saw an arrow plunge down into the willows, and one of the clouds of light disappeared. One of their best casters down. Thank you, Annaleis.
Steel grated against steel in a discordant high note, and Enver raced to help Clifton, who was staggering back away from a massive Alcean soldier, who was bracketed in mustard yellow light. He swung his blade, and Enver saw a blast of familiar, jagged shapes flying toward him. Fire spell.
He dove under them, tucking into a somersault and leaping out of it, slashing his sword across the man’s arm. Heat flared behind him, but Enver didn’t look back, not even when the Alcean fell and Clifton gasped a quick thank you.
That was war. You kept moving.
The other team had arrived, and were in the thick of combat. Enver caught a triumphant grin from Rita, heard Clifton start to whistle as he drew a knife. This was just another day’s work, now.
And then. He saw one of the spellcasters step out of the willows, lifting a hand. Magenta light poured forth, striking the ground around them, and Enver saw half a dozen spots light up.
Oh, no. He knew this spell. They all did.
It was a simple one—a massive explosion, meant not to kill, just to disorient. And then came the second hit. Not meant to send you flying, one that would suck you in like a whirlpool. And then it would drop you out, halfway across the country, above a cliff or a jagged outcropping of rocks, or just from somewhere very, very high.
And that would kill you. Or at least take you out of the game so efficiently your team would have no chance of getting you back anytime soon.
I hate this spell.
“MOVE!” Kazinsky’s shout pushed them into action, and they did, sprinting forward at the same time as the Alceans around them. Enver saw Nikan stumble, and he lengthened his stride, just in time to push him forward. Just as the explosion hit.
The trick was to roll, to get as far out of range as possible. Then, you might have a chance.
But Enver had spent his last stride trying to get Nikan clear. So when he went flying, his head cracked against something hard, and his vision went up and down, jagged lines flaring through it. The air went out of him with a whoosh.
Dragging in a painful breath, he pushed himself upward, scanning the surrounding area. A massive circle, about three yards wide, was still glowing violent magenta. The blast radius. And he was still in it.
“Enver! Move!”
Clifton’s shout was just cutting through the air when another blast erupted. Enver barely had time to pull the knife from his belt and slam it into the ground before a whirlwind came to life around him with a roar. Even with the anchor, he felt himself slipping backward. Rita was being held back by Kazinsky, and Nikan was staring wide eyed at—
Oh. I’m not alone.
There was someone else in the blast radius.
And she was Alcean.
Enver caught the barest glimpse of her as she clung to the grass around her desperately. Dark red-brown hair braided and pinned back, her skin a warm shade of brown. Dual swords were strapped to her back, and she wore traditional Alcean armor. But none of that was what struck Enver.
She didn’t look surprised. Not scared, or shocked, or even really upset. She just looked…resigned. Like she’d known this would happen.
Over the roar of wind, he heard the grass tear, and the Alcean warrior went flying backward. She smacked directly into him, and his knife slipped. Together, they were swept up and swallowed by a whirlwind in the ground.
For a moment, everything was silent. Enver couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe, and for a heartbeat he thought the earth would keep them prisoner forever.
And then the world came exploding back to life, and he was falling out of the sky.
A brief glance took in their surroundings. They were on the coast—miles from where they’d been fighting, depending on which coast it was. Cliffs jutted beneath them, with jagged rocks slicing the savage waves into pieces.
And they were plummeting straight toward it.
A scream caught his ear, cut off halfway. To his left, the Alcean moved, teal light coalescing around her hands. As they dropped, straight toward the rocks, she cast a hand out, and a cord made of light moved with it. Coiling like a whip, it snagged at the cliff face, burying itself in the rock.
Enver was going to have to try something a little more simple. Gripping his knife tightly, he let gravity take him down, listening to the harmony of wind and waves below. And as he drew closer, he twisted, spinning toward the cliff.
The blade slammed against the stone, letting out an earsplitting screech—and then he jerked, suddenly, to a stop that reverberated through his bones.
It had caught on a crack.
Enver barely had time to marvel at the miracle that had been dropped into his lap—again—before he heard a scream, a full one this time. A little ways above and to his left, the Alcean soldier had caught herself, but the sickening pop that rang out told a far more ominous story than his own. One of her arms fell free, and she clung to her magic desperately, eyes wide.
She won’t last. With a dislocated shoulder, she had one less hand, and the pain would break her concentration. Enver had seen it before.
In a few minutes, she’d fall.
One less Alcean. One less enemy.
That’s what Noran would have said, from his old unit. His friend had lost family to the Alceans, and had never quite gotten over it. He was still spitting curses the day they killed him on the banks of the Aniva.
Enver had loved his friend. But he wasn’t him.
The Alcean’s face flashed to the front of his vision—not even afraid. Just resigned. Not expecting to be saved.
She’s alone, too. Especially now.
Rock cracked, and he heard her cry out again, voice tight with frustration. Not for the first time, Enver wished for his sword.
Although…
With some difficulty, he slipped a hand under his jacket. Strapped to his back, he kept a few precious, personal items. Not his, but his old squad’s. Things they hadn’t been able to send to anyone else.
His hand closed around a hilt—Penny’s sword. Yanking it free, he hit the switch on the side of the hilt, and flicked his wrist. The blade burst to life, locking into place seconds later. Thank you, Maguire. The smith who’d made it was the best in the business.
Hauling back, he slammed the blade into the crack where his knife was, wedging it in place. Gripping tight, he slowly shifted the knife out and back to his belt—just in time. The teal light above him vanished, and the soldier dropped.
No, you don’t. Bracing a boot against the stone, Enver lunged, and managed to grab her arm. She let out a cry as he hauled her up. Gritting teeth as she tried to pull away, Enver managed to gasp, “Hold on!”
She went still. So still he wasn’t sure if she’d listened, or just passed out from pain. Glancing down, he caught a glimpse of brown eyes boring into his. “We need a way up,” he told her, looking back up. Ten feet up, maybe? That’ll be a nightmare to climb—
He heard the magic before he saw it. A gentle hum, like the strings of a violin, and suddenly pale teal light was surrounding them. As Enver watched, fear drumming the same beat as his heart, it built under them, growing stronger and stronger. And then it burst up, sending them flying up toward the cliff’s edge. Enver’s sword tore free from the crack with another screech, and he lashed out desperately as they shot up.
It sank into the dirt at the top, and they jerked to a stop before they could plummet again. The teal light flickered, and Enver realized it was holding them up. Just barely, securing them from another fall.
But it’s good enough. Straining every muscle in his body, he hauled himself up, getting a boot steady against the cliff and pushing. Inch by inch, second by second, he got himself up and over the edge, one hand still locked around the Alcean’s arm.
The minute he rolled over onto solid land, he turned, sprawled on his stomach, and grabbed her other arm. She let out a hiss of pain, but awkwardly caught hold of his arm. The teal light around her was fading by the second, and he could see fear in her eyes now.
“Sorry,” he told her, and pulled.
Her scream echoed off the cliffs, scaring several nearby birds, but she scrambled up and over. The magic around her disappeared just as she hit the dirt, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Just gasped for breath, clinging to the ground. And each other.
She was the first to move, hands pulling away from his, and Enver reluctantly hauled himself to his feet. Only when they were both standing did he realize he was several inches taller than her. And he was holding a sword.
As one, they stepped back, and took in their enemy. The enemy who’d just saved each other’s lives.
~~~
All good Alcean soldiers hated Harrowdale. At least, that was what the drill sergeants would have you think. The hatred would fuel you and your magic, get them one step closer to winning the war.
Inessa would have hated Harrowdale more if an Alcean hadn’t been the one who betrayed her first.
And he had been. Alvin Melith had been her wingman, her partner on the battlefield and—she thought—her friend off of it. Which was why it had come as a surprise when he handed her over to Harrowdalean renegades to be tortured for information.
(as if being the daughter of a general meant she had special information. All she’d ever gotten from General Lang was disappointed looks, brown eyes, and apparently, her stubbornness.)
But now, she’d been expecting it. Discrediting a good soldier with five years of service to her two, a soldier who’d been a top tier caster and the son of a high ranking lord to boot, had crushed her career like a grape tossed onto a floor of dancers. So when Avery Bedlam had cast the hither-bomb spell, he hadn’t cared if she was in the middle.
And Inessa couldn’t pretend to be surprised.
She’d been done trusting even her own people for a long time now.
But she’d also expected to die when the bomb pulled her in. And yet, judging by the screaming agony from her arm, she was alive.
Thanks to the Harrowdalean soldier facing her right now.
That might be about to end, though, Inessa thought. The odds were simple. He had a sword—and so did she. Two, in fact. But she only had one arm, and with the pain etching itself through her body, casting was going to be nearly impossible. It had taken all her reserves just to help get them up the cliff.
Them. Why did I help him?
Because he was holding you up, idiot. The sarcastic voice in her head sounded remarkably like Anya, her younger sister. Inessa bit her lip hard, trying not to miss her. Trying not to think about how she would never see her again.
Don’t flinch, she told herself, despite the fear already thundering to life. Knowing you would die was one thing. Knowing pain would accompany it was entirely another. She clenched a fist, trying to summon some magic, anything to prevent—
“Truce?”
Her concentration slipped, teal sparks sputtering away from her fingers as she stared at the man facing her. “What?”
“Truce,” he repeated, pressing a switch on the side of his sword. The blade retracted with a click, and he dropped the hilt to the ground deliberately. Lifting his hands in the air, he said, “We’re miles away from the border. You’re hurt, and I’m exhausted. And I don’t want to kill you.”
The words he was speaking were so foreign, so unexpected, all Inessa could do was stare. “What?”
“Did…you actually not hear me, or—”
Inessa almost snorted at his slightly nervous tone. “I heard you. But…” she paused, studying him for a minute. Dark hair cut shorter than the fashion in Alcea, but not buzzed short. Blue eyes darker than any she’d seen before, a striking contrast to the burgundy of his uniform. Harrowdale colors. Not your friend. Dark memories flickered through her mind, and the scars on her back seemed to burn.
But. She was injured and in no position to cast. And her enemy just saved her, and was currently looking at her with the most earnest, open gaze she’d ever seen in her life. Like he’d spill a vein if she asked for it.
It was disconcerting. But it would keep her alive.
“Truce,” she agreed, and some of the tension in his shoulders eased.
“Good.” Glancing around, he asked, “So…any idea where we are?”
For the first time, Inessa actually looked at their surroundings. Rich blue-green water a few shades lighter than her magic, cliffs soaring above the waves. It looked like another world, compared to the blood soaked fields and pond they’d left behind.
But it wasn’t. In fact, she was pretty sure she recognized it. “I think…we’re in Alcea,” she said slowly. “Up north, near the Venlann border.”
Her family had gone here on vacation, once. When her father wasn’t busy with the war and before her mother had retreated into her rooms and never left home again. Before they’d lost Cassio to the war.
“So we’re in your territory,” the Harrowdalean said, jolting her out of her memories. She looked back at him, and saw him watching her. “Can you lead us back to the border?”
The border. Where their people were trying to kill each other over a war older than time. Inessa swallowed, suddenly aware of the weight of the swords on her back.
She should kill this man.
It was her duty, what she’d signed up for when she joined the army. It was what tradition and honor and her king demanded of her.
And all those things demanded it of him, too.
But instead, he’d saved her life. And offered a truce, even before he knew where they were.
They were without food, water, or any real equipment. They had no allies, she was injured, and he was in a foreign country.
They needed each other.
The last person you needed, who you relied on, handed you over to be tortured, her mind whispered. If anything, you can expect that even more here.
Then at least I’m prepared.
“I can,” she told him. “But I’ll need my arm fixed first.”
He nodded. “I figured. I’m Enver, by the way. Enver Connally.”
And here it was. The part where she reciprocated and turned herself from an ally, however strange, to a piece on a chess board. But Inessa didn’t have the energy for subtlety right now. And truthfully, the less she had to wait for things to go wrong, the better.
“Inessa Lang,” she told him, searching his gaze for surprise, for the moment when he remembered there was a General Lang in the Alcea army.
There was nothing. Instead, he smiled, just enough to warm his features. “Nice to meet you, Inessa. All things considered.”
To her utter shock, a laugh bubbled up in her chest as she took the hand he offered and shook. “All things considered,” she agreed.
The smile grew. “Let’s see what we can do for that arm.”
"Then - is there a possibility [Simon] might be dead?" For some reason, the Bonemaster looked really worried.
"I suppose so," said Elfwyn.
"And this idiot boy left him alone with no one to take care of him?" The Bonemaster's voice climbed angrily.
"His wife is taking care of him."
"His wife? Simon has a wife?"
"Yes," said Elfwyn.
"Ridiculous. Wizards don't have wives."
"Why not?" said Elfwyn, probably to stem the flow of questions.
"For many reasons, my dear. I suppose one reason is because wives and children make such lovely hostages. Is it too much to hope that there are children?"
"I don't know," said Elfwyn.
"No children," said Jinx. Revealing that was probably safe enough. Who knew what the Bonemaster would have done with Simon's children, if they'd existed?
if they'd existed
sage blackwood is so so good at writing "children perceiving adults through children's eyes/not picking up on things that the reader understands clearly." this is the passage of all time. the conversation here is just:
bonemaster: does simon have any children i can kidnap?
simon's child (currently kidnapped): no
jinx...i know you can't see the Feelings Clouds right now but i need you to understand that YOU ARE THE CHILD
#'no children' what you have to understand here is that jinx is 100% serious#he's not lying. he wholeheartedly believes this. this is reality as he understands it#(and that's for completely legitimate reasons; he is totally justified at this point in the story)#but it's still both funny and narratively delicious as the reader to keep seeing moments like this over and over#like when simon shows up after [redacted] and sees [redacted] and jinx notes that his face has gone 'the color of parchment'#and jinx unquestioningly thinks 'probably he was still recovering from his injury'#as the reader you're shaking him by the shoulders like HONEY...that's not what's going on!#'admit you are important to this man or draw 25' challenge#book 1 jinx: *juggling thousands of uno cards*#(again - for 100% legitimate and understandable reasons. i'm not criticizing him one bit.)#it's just so well-executed#sage blackwood should have won an award for this passage specifically i am SAYING#anyway. i've been doing a re-read lately and am having a little moment here via @panharmonium
Your local library/streaming service probably has most of these items unless otherwise noted. Nothing on my wishlist is rated higher than PG-13. If you have more questions about a specific item, let me know. Happy to give or receive personalized recs!
Books and fanfiction:
The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope, 280 pages
Starter topics: Balance of historical/fantasy elements, having to carefully read between the lines to see the truth of what characters are saying/doing.
The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson, 1007 pages, very good audiobook version! (45hrs)
Starter topics: richly detailed fantasy world building, vast cast of characters (my favorites are Kaladin and Dalinar)
Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis, 313 pages
Starter topics: So much symbolism and allegory that I’m sure I’ve missed some pieces!
The Prophet of Lamath by Robert Don Hughes, 357 pages
out of print, but inter-library loan and the Internet Archive can help!Starter topics: The dragon’s confusing use of pronouns, Pelmen my beloved, reactions to prophecy.
Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, 452 pages
Starter topics: The historical implications of starstuff, comparison with other Peter Pan versions.
The Scarlet Pimpernel (182 pages) OR if you have already read that one, El Dorado (352 pages) by Baroness Emmuska Orczy
Starter topics: suspenseful plot, masked superheroes, dashing hero + hapless damsel in fiction
Bargaining by proantagonist on ao3, 108,932 words
Starter topics: The reveal, the relationships between Loki and...everyone really.
Ere by bowditch on ao3, 35,532 words
Starter topics: Gen & Costis, The theme from all of QT about what exactly “submission to authority” should look like in various positions.
Audiovisual:
Galaxy Quest (1996) 1hr 42 min
Starter topics: spoofs vs parodies, favorite hilarious lines
Runner from Ravenshead (2010) 1hr 21 min
Starter topics: Production quality, solid message
The Court Jester (1955) 1hr 41 min
Starter topics: Hilarious witty medieval intrigue, everything is funny, pick a scene!
Hogan’s Heroes (1965), suggest 3 hrs for six episodes from season one
[s1e1 The Informer, e2 Hold That Tiger, e3 Kommandant of the Year, e17 Happy Birthday Adolf, e21 The Great Impersonation, e22 The Pizza Parlor]
Starter topics: who’s your favorite character, and why?
Pirates of Penzance (1983) 1hr 52 min
The 1981 Broadway production with the same main cast is also acceptable if you can find it in full. PLEASE make sure you have good captions or a copy of the script by Gilbert and Sullivan on hand
Starter topics: Completely ridiculous (complimentary) plot, absurdly quotable British Victorian Pirates.
I've been having a great time with all the things I tried for the Conversation Hearts Exchange! I recommend them, and am happy to talk about them with other people!
No One Knows (song by Samantha Eber) for @pgzebra1023
Hot Chocolate (recipe) for @in-echoes-forever
Jinx (book by Sage Blackwood) for @brambleberrycottage
All Things Considered (inkling challenge fill by kanerallels) for @kanerallels
The Mummy (1999 movie) for @accidental-spice
Like the Dawn (song by the Oh Hellos) for @sisterdragonwithfeathers
Collide (song by Skillet) for @dearlittlefandom-stalker
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (musical) for @the-pirate-captain
Partners in Crime (book by Agatha Christie) for @incomingalbatross
The Penguins of Madagascar (tv show) for @theriu
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol)
Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3)
The other factors that have improved my writing are thus:
1. Writing nonlinearly.
I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that.
It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it.
Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this.
And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate.
Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long.
But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it.
If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!!
Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work.
I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!)
Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing.
So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol)
(Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.)
When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them.
As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong.
3. Marinating in the headspace of the story.
For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it!
Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
