not to be that pathetic anarchist with a heart and soul full of unrelenting hope in the face of an uncaring world but if you feel like the world is a horrid place and you are powerless to change it talk to the people down the street
talk to people, talk to your neighbors, go to the library
call a friend, on discord or signal or your phone, whatever
say "hi" to someone walking down the road
give an earnest compliment to someone at the bus stop
smile at someone on the bus
yes, the world is a dark place
yes, the systems of injustice in place in it are not ones that you personally can change
but first and foremost you're a social animal facing unprecedented times of social disconnection
go to a community event
help out at some kind of group that helps out in your city or your neighborhood
work at a soup kitchen or a support organization or advocacy group
join some other effort to ease the suffering of this world
all of us are powerless to change the world at large
but all of us can change the world around us together
We all know how High Lord is blonde and beautiful, with green eyes and the ability to shapeshift into an antlered bear-wolf, but we all also have our little headcanons for his appearance. Does he always have his antlers? A tail? Is he more lithe with hidden strength or a big, bulky male? What about his outfit?
With @geniemillies help, we have these doodle templates and we want YOU to fill out with how you see Tamlin! You don't need to be an artist, we love silly drawings too!
Three humans hear a song coming from over the Wall.
Please support on ao3 as well: mournful melody
Living close to the Wall to Prythian was dangerous. Not many humans lived even slightly close, but Eria was used to getting lost in the woods. And in general. Normally she didn't wander so far she ended up at the edge of the Spring Court, but generally her father didn't take the family camping so deep in the woods.
"Fuck." She winced and rubbed the bridge of her nose, red hair falling in her eyes, leaves caught in her hair. "Where the hell am I…" her voice trailed off as a sound pricked her ears. The sounds of a violin, carrying through the night.
Eria let out a breath of relief. Oh, good, civilization.
The song was quiet, mournful. The sound of pain echoed in the world around her, a message of wanting running underneath.
She closed her eyes, trying to identify where it was coming from. While her memory for landmarks, and ability to go in one direction consistently wasn't the best, she could follow sounds like the best of them.
The world around her was quiet, which only made the sound of the violin only echo more in the area.
Suddenly, eyes closed, she bumped into something. It was the wall.
Oh. She was very far from where she was supposed to be. She looked at the wall quietly, the sounds of music echoing through the emptiness.
Then she turned away. If she walked far enough, she would find the campsite.
↠♪♫♩♬↞
Amelia held an ax in one hand, as she marched closer to the Wall of Prythian. The trees there grew faster and stronger. And she needed the wood, even if most people wouldn't, shouldn't, get that close to the Wall.
But desperate times call for desperate measures.
As she approached, a sound echoed through the woods, silencing the birds, tweeting in their branches.
Amelia fell silent as well. For a moment, it felt like the whole world was paused with the song.
It was a terribly sad sound, like music itself was weeping, like the performer was begging the universe to spare a thought, some care.
Almost unthinkingly, she started to walk forward, towards the music, to comfort the performer. To wipe away the music's tears and the world's woes.
Then she shook her head. What was she thinking? She couldn't… that was the direction of the Wall. She couldn't go into the lands of Faerie! That would be a suicide mission. She remembered the legends of sirens, beautiful Fae who sang haunting songs to lure sailors into their depths and eat them.
She almost got caught. Mentally, Amelia was proud of herself for not falling for the trap.
With one last hurried glance in the direction the song came from, Amelia hurried away from the Wall. She'd have to get wood somewhere else, even if it wasn't as nice.
↠♪♫♩♬↞
Ethan was so hungover. The night before, he'd gotten drunk at the local tavern, and had been dared to go to the Wall.
Well he got there. Then he passed out and he woke up with a bad hangover, next to the Wall,
Yay.
With a groan, he hauled himself up and pressed a hand to his stomach in discomfort, leaning over and vomiting. Then he looked around and realized that he'd fucked up. He didn't just go to the wall. He'd passed it.
"Fuck." Ethan muttered. He was so dead. So very dead.
Any faerie that caught him wouldn't think twice about killing…
No, he'd been there all night and no one had hurt him. The woods were silent, not even the chirping of birds.
It was completely deserted.
Ethan stood up and looked around, leaning against a tree. He needed to get back to the Wall, he needed to get back home, he had the kids to take care of, he couldn't be stuck…
The sound of a violin echoed through the woods, the first sound beyond himself in the whole time Ethan had been awake.
The song was mournful, a cry for help. It reminded Ethan of when he was a kid, holding Posie in his hands and watching her wail. A desperate cry, not of pain or sadness, but of the need, the desire, to be seen and heard.
Half stumbling, he made his way towards the sound, and froze. Standing in the clearing, in a shaft of light, was the most stunning man that he had ever seen in his life.
He had long blond hair that shone like the sun. It fell around his face, and his eyes were closed, mouth turned into a melancholy smile. He played the violin there, unaware of another person's presence, and it came to Ethan that this man was likely why the forests were so empty.
The power radiating off of him was powerful enough that it made him want to flinch. But he couldn't when the music held him in its trance. The power didn't feel frightening, scary, terrifying. It felt… sad. Regretful.
Ethan remembered his sister's sadness, how she'd poured every ounce of herself into the pain.
Literally cannot go anywhere now that the Eras Tour came to Toronto without being bombarded by these people
Went to a local craft fair today, a woman had a whole booth of JUST things like Swiftie friendship bracelets and shirts made with a cricket machine. Whatever, not my circus not my monkeys, get your bag. Try to walk by without saying anything or making eye contact.
Booth owner: see anything ya like?
Me: oh haha I’m not really a Swift fan haha but thank you
Big mistake. Suddenly this woman goes full Jehovah’s Witness on me, dropping everything she’s doing to start lecturing me about the good word of TayTay. “Oh but she’s such a good artist! How could you not like her?! What kind of music do you like? I’m sure there’s an album that could appeal to you!”
Contrary to what I’m sure is popular belief I don’t actually like lecturing these people in real life so I don’t say anything back. I kinda just slunk away and let some other customers take my place while I faded into the crowd.
Side rant: Between this and every other booth being some MLM scam, Christmas craft sales have become just unbearable for me. They used to be an activity hall filled with cheap booth slots so the retired folk could sell their crafts, with a few people in there at a time, light chatter and some soft Christmas music playing from a radio in the corner. Now it’s almost entirely “small businesses” selling either MLM junk or reselling from AliExpress, packed to the brim with people, everything’s overpriced, music blaring over the commotion with ludicrous slot prices. I hate it. I hate how gentrified my little community thing has now become. I came here to buy quilts and scones, not a cheap iron on t shirt with stolen assets.
