just a tiny goat

personal writing inspiration, some other random things, and drawings and notes on my novel 🐐🌺

[davidessman]

earlier this month it was 120 degrees in Australia , but yeah lets continue to mock those trying to save us in the 12 years we have left to slow climate change’s effects. 

What is the worst thing that could happen if we listen to scientists and change our ways, and then it turns out they were lying? 

Slowly dying in a mad max hell world to own the libs I guess. 

[blueelectricangels]

this is literally why scientists stopped calling it “global warming” and started calling it “climate change”

because these dense motherfuckers couldn’t get it through their heads that an increase in the average global temperature is, has, and will lead to an increase in extreme weather events including goddamn polar vortexes.

“Fner ner ner, look at all the snow outside, what of your global warming now?? CHECK AND MATE SCIENTISTS so much for your fancy degrees and decades of research” of fucking course you’re still gonna get a winter you goddamn dingdongs! The Earth still has a fucking axial tilt – there is always going to be a portion of the year that is colder because that’s when you’re further away from the sun! 

(unless you live between the tropic of cancer and the tropic of capricorn, in which case you’re at more or less the same distance from the sun all year, but presumably then you aren’t pointing to snowfall as proof positive that scientists are spearheading a conspiracy to…i don’t even fucking know. reduce emissions? meanspiritedly destroy the fossil fuel industry, which is gentle and blameless and certainly has never been linked to enormous environmental disasters or long-term health concerns or…?)

[jungs-dirty-little-slut-deactiv]

Conservatives will be the fucking death of us

[humandisastersquad]

Also the reason for these extremely cold temperatures happening and doing so more often is directly a result of literal global warming. Due to rising temperatures (thanks to climate change caused by humans which is real and happening right now and fuck anyone who says otherwise), the Arctic sea ice has been melting more and more without replenishing itself during winter. To make matters worse, the more ice that melts, the more ocean is exposed, which absorbs (rather that reflecting like ice does) the sun’s energy, further heating up. 

This rise in polar temperatures is the reason the polar vortex is currently above the US and making Day After Tomorrow a reality

For those who don’t know, a polar vortex is an area of low pressure that likes to chill around the poles (both north and south but the north is more relevant here). These areas of cold, dense air are usually kept in check by jet streams: long, narrow, fast flowing air currents caused by two masses of air that are different in density/pressure/temperature etc. meeting. 

The polar jet streams in particular are caused by the meeting of cold, dense low pressure polar air and warm high pressure air from the tropics. It’s usually pretty strong, especially during winter, as the temperature gradient between the poles and the tropics is rather large. The bigger the difference, the stronger the wind, and the less likely that polar air escapes southwards.

However, due to the warming around the north pole thanks to the melting sea ice and warming oceans, this gradient is decreasing.

This results in a weaker polar jet stream, which allows the vortex to meander all over the place, such as down south into the US, bringing the cold dense air with it.

Please go forth and use this information to make sure the idiots using this cold snap as piss poor evidence that climate change isn’t real know that they’re wrong and they should feel bad. Also maybe tie them down and make them watch this video (which is where I got these gifs from) which is a good (but terrifying) explanation of how extreme weather events are becoming and will become more common as a result of anthropogenic climate change.

[pitofghosts]

worldbuilding tips

populations and peoples don’t just suddenly change at a border marker. cultures interact and blend.

there are usually a multitude of cultures in one place, and religions often have different factions within them

what are the differences between the upper and lower classes? is there a lower class? what system is used? fuedalism? capitalism? communism?

how does your society view and deal with poverty?

think about the diaspora. invent a large population of immigrants. why are they there? how long have they lived there? how does their culture now differentiate from their homeland?

languages. is there a global lingua franca (a language that people use to speak internationally. historically this has been latin and french, and right now, english)? if so, why That One? are there smaller lingua francas within different nations?

a large country will almost always have smaller languages within it. put some in. you don’t even have to name them, just have someone mention that they often have to translate for their parents

the lingua franca will usually be the language of the majority, but not always. if a particular ethnic group has control of the government, and therefor education, then that language will probably become more widespread. although sometimes there are “official languages” and “daily languages”

i could write a whole other post about languages honestly

what things do different cultures see as beautiful? is it eyes? hair? what parts of the body are considered scandalous. are the bodies of men and women seen differently? how do people feel about breasts?

how is makeup used? is it daily? is it ceremonial? do different colours and patterns have meanings or is purely for aesthetic? is it seen as gendered?

basically just don’t take everything in your culture as the “norm.” there is no norm. the world is weird.

learn about other cultures in our own world. please.

[nemfrog]

One month after controversial adult-content purge, far-right pages are thriving on Tumblr

White nationalist propaganda is still extremely easy to find.

Very detailed, well researched article.

[rrrick]

All the nazis without those annoying nipples!

[swampgallows]

An important excerpt:

“This subtle far-right creep echoes a 2017 study by the Institute of Strategic Dialogue which warned that the far-right had become extremely adapt at using internet platforms to normalize their ideas. “The weaponisation of internet culture is deliberately used by extreme-right influencers to bring about attitude and behavioural change, in particular among the younger generations,” the report warned.

This sort of normalization of white nationalist talking points was what tech companies were supposedly shocked by — and promised to stop — in the wake of Charlottesville, as they provided an easy way of “red-pilling,” or radicalizing and recruiting, new members, most of whom are young, white, disaffected men.

“Using ironic memes and terms that don’t mean anything to our enemies but normies find funny and actually lead people to develop a race-based political consciousness is what it is all about,” one 4chan poster explained in the aftermath of Charlottesville.

In this regard, the prevalence of far-right content on Tumblr is especially disturbing, as it provides as aesthetically pleasing way to subtly insert white nationalist ideas into the heads of potential recruits.”

Be ever vigilant about the context of the content you consume. This is how they get you.

[gahdamnpunk]

Why is this even a question? How is your child meant to learn to apologize when you don’t do it yourself as a parent?

[yourejustanotherversionofme]

This is actually a really important factor in how I establish healthy, trusting relationships with kiddos at work. I am a human and therefore make mistakes, which children will catch and call me out for, because children are information sponges with no verbal filters.

When a kid says, “but miss tommy, i thought you said we’re not supposed to do that,” I answer, “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I won’t do it again.” It could be something small, maybe a kid sees me biting my nails, or maybe I grabbed a kid by the arm who was about to collide with something solid but I grabbed too hard. Whatever it is, it’s important to

acknowledge the mistake,

apologize to the kid,

and verbalize a plan to correct it.

Not only does this model HOW to make an effective apology, but it establishes trust on many levels. The children who witness the exchange now know that:

I will be honest with them even if it does not serve my ego,

I care about their feelings,

and I am taking their needs seriously.

Apologize to your kids when you mess up! It won’t diminish your authority as their grown-up, it shows that you respect that authority!

[theoriginalblackbarbie]

This is one thing emotionally abusive parents are known for. Holding power over accountability and they wonder why their children don’t want to be around when they get older.

[another-heckin-author-deactivat]

My mom has only just started apologising when she’s wrong and even then it’s just “I’m sorry, but you were worse ”. She never fully owns up to it and it’s the reason i avoid conflict so much. I always blame myself.

[tired-and-shouldnt-be-here-blog]

((Just remember not to blame yourself for things that are out of your control. Your mom may not apologize completely, but knowing it wasn’t your fault should help you and that you shouldn’t be blamed for everything.))

[greenandhazy]

gentiles on this website: “The Old Testament God is cruel and vengeful!” actual Jews in my synagogue yesterday: “My favorite part of the reading is when it says the Torah is not in heaven so it’s too far to reach, it’s not across the sea so we can’t get it, but that it’s in our hearts… the idea of having that be so close, of being so close to something divine, that thrills me.” “And here, where it says ‘the Lord will delight in you as he did in your fathers’, that’s such a beautiful thing. You know, God is this all-powering being, and God delights in us.”

gentiles on this website: “You can’t be an atheist and religious!” actual Jews in my synagogue yesterday: “I’m just not buying any of this. I was born during the Holocaust and I could never wrap my mind around this omnipotent all-seeing God, and usually I’m a little moved by this, I try to be hopeful, but when I look around the world now, I just don’t buy it! If I really believed there was a God, I would resent him.” [still wears a prayer shawl and attends synagogue regularly]

gentiles on this website: “Religious people never question what they’re told, they just followed blindly!” my actual rabbi: “Sometimes the Torah can be like an older relative whom we love dearly, and who has a lot of wisdom to give, but who also says things that cause us pain, that we find offensive or wrong. And I think the wrong instinct would be to pretend we don’t hear what they’re saying, or to cut them out entirely, or to be guided by them into thinking and behaving in offensive ways. What we need to do is engage the Torah. We need to wrestle with it, and try to understand it, to figure out where it’s coming from and learn how we can progress from it, because the Torah is not unchanging. It belongs in each of our hearts, and it changes for us as we study it, as each generation challenges its old assumptions.”

[yourbigsisnissi]

Before you get mad at your partner for not doing what you expect them to do, Stop and ask yourself “have I ever communicated to them that I have this expectation?” If you have not, it’s unfair to expect them to read your mind.

So many arguments are saved by just opening your mouth and saying “hey hun, in the future can you….” Whether its articulating how you like to be loved, supported, or communicated with, you have to open your mouth. Your soul mate (IMO) isn’t the person that just always knows what you need when you need it without you telling them. Your soul mate is the person who hears your needs and thinks “I have no problem doing that because I love this person with my whole heart”

So check your attitude and open your mouth. Closed mouths don’t get fed.

[egberts]

hot new pikachu reaction image for when you’re stressed out

[roachdance]

dont make a straight character without a reason

[monzterzack]

Straight characters need to be justified and their entire arc must be about the pain of being straight and wearing nothing but caqui

[luna-redamancy]

Found this on Instagram and it’s very true

[sherlockedcarmilla]

Lawful disaster! That’s me by the way, hello!

[radiantrowanwriting]

Chaotic responsible, lawful soft, and all of the disasters.

[homesteadchronicles]

Character Development Prompt: Folklore

What is the character’s overall experience with and perspective of their culture’s folklore?

What ancient stories have been passed down from generation to generation until they reached the character’s ears? When did they hear these legends - as a child, a teenager, or as an adult? How did their reception of the story at that time, and over time, affect their beliefs, values and actions? 

Did they believe in myths as a child and grow out of them over time (or vice versa), or did they remain consistent with their faith or faithlessness? If they believed that these stories, did their opinion of them change? For example, one’s first time experiencing Beauty and the Beast might have them view Gaston as the villain, only to understand his perspective as an adult. What prompted this change and how did it affect the character?

Do they have stories of their own to pass on to those who will come after them? Do they continue telling the same tales they had always heard, or do they aspire to craft new ones? What will the moral of these stories be, and to whom will they share them?

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

If you listen closely, you can hear a small goat chanting "collab! collab!"

🐐🐐🐐 (or at least...you think it's a goat)

[heikala]

Process of Early Bird

………………….

Music was composed by video game and film composer @rycamus http://www.ryancamus.com

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

completionist woes / a ramble

I want to follow through on all of my characters in the WHG, which for me means going through all of the prompts (and rounds they live through) for all three. The rationale behind this is I'm trying to boost my daily wordcount comfort zone (been trying to push it past 300 words for a while now and WHG has me at a very comfy 2k), and more fodder = more opportunity to flex that muscle?

Really I do have good stuff coming for Milí and Léo, and also they were killed off real quick so it's not like I'm keeping up with them. But I joined WHG to get to know Anzhé, really, and I'm just SO PUMPED for all of their scenes!! Like!!! Quel angst!!! Quelle drama!!!

(it would also be out of my comfort zone to write things out of order but I'm not currently sure if that's a good out 🤔)

Also I'm surprised at how well the generator is feeling my characters. Like I established at get-go that Mil is uncomfortably okay with dying, Léo is useless in a fight, and Anzhé is a career who WILL EFF YOU UP and it's all playing out perfectly?!? Damn!

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

WHG Prompt 2: The Reaping

Anzhé (District 8):

Now it happens. Your character is standing in the crowd, waiting.

A name is called.

@ratracechronicler

Anzhé fiddles with their watch chain, willing themself not to flick it and check the time again; it’s only been eight ticks since the last time. The Peacekeepers have stopped marching, but a massive white-clad soldier stands right at the end of their row, gun braced threateningly in their arms. Probably good to assume that The School’s students, with their training, would be the ones to start something. The whole row is on edge, the feeling transmitted through their shoulders, which press together in the tight space.

Luzuko is just on Anzhé’s left, and every one of his breaths shakes them like an earthquake.

Anzhé isn’t brave enough to reach for his hand.

The moment they stepped into the mess hall, Luzu had pretended. Attachment isn’t allowed, but certain levels of friendship are. And to their fellow students, Anzhé and Luzu are supposed to be friends—rivals, in Eich’s parlance.

But when their eyes met, Luzu’s were cold.

A woman from the Capitol struts out onto the stage in perilously tall and pointy shoes. Her face is painted a pale blue to match her dress, which is so large in its ruffles and frills that it completely obscures the humanity of her figure.

If there is humanity there at all. The woman taps the microphone.

“Good morning, District 8! Can I have a warm welcome from the makers of these beautiful, fabulous clothes?” She gives a vain little spin—quite a feat in those heels—to tepid applause. “Thank you!” she says. “Now we’re a bit behind schedule today, so let’s get to the main event! But first, a surprise!”

The bowls with the tiny slips of paper that bear their names are carried out by Peacekeepers, placed on massive pedestals.

“The Capitol would love to acknowledge District 8’s tenacity in the establishment of tribute training schools; one for girls, and one for boys.” More, significantly warmer, applause. “We have come to understand that there will be two volunteers this year, and absolutely appreciate the enthusiasm. However.”

She pauses, shoulders scrunched up in…giddy excitement? Her hands shake like she can barely contain herself.

“The Gamemakers this year have established a wonderful surprise! This year, the Games will be bigger and better than ever, with eighty-four total tributes, in two arenas! That means seven lucky someones will be joining the games from this crowd!”

The wind is knocked out of the assembly so quickly that there isn’t a single gasp. District 8 stares at the woman in horror.

Luzuko reaches for Anzhé’s hand, and Anzhé holds tight.

The School does not have seven battle-ready students. And even if it did, they wouldn’t be prepared to kill their brothers.

Kill their brothers…

Anzhé shoots a sidelong glance at Luzuko, but quickly returns their eyes to the stage when they catch the Peacekeeper at the end of the row clenching tighter at their weapon.

The woman seems genuinely confused by the lack of enthusiasm, but she laughs it off. “And now!”

“I volunteer!” Anzhé’s voice rings out over the crowd.

Luzu pulls down on their arm as heads turn towards them. “Anzhé!” he whispers desperately.

“Only one of us,” Anzhé returns out of the side of their mouth. But they can’t leave the row without looking Luzu in the eyes, and when they do, they just can’t not.

With all of District 8 watching, Anzhé pulls Luzu into one last kiss. When they open their eyes, the two of them are being projected onto the massive screen above the stage. Not just District 8, then. Anzhé pulls Luzu into one last hug, and Luzu returns it with a grip that could break stone. They finally manage to release one another, and Anzhé raises their hands over their head in triumph, nods to the camera, and bounds up to the stage.

“Well,” the Capitol woman says, apparently tittered by the drama of it all. “And who is this strapping, passionate tribute?”

Anzhé steps up to the mic and stares dead into the camera. “My name is Anzhé Bolt.”

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

WHG Prompt 1: The Big Day

Léo (District 7):

It’s the day of the Reaping. Nobody knows who will be Reaped yet. How does your character feel about the possibility of going to the Arena? How do they prepare?

@ratracechronicler

Their moms are still sleeping, and Rui is already a nervous wreck.

The Peacekeepers arrived early in the morning, the sound waking both boys from their light sleep. As soon as they put on their newly-cleaned jumpsuits—the olive-colored work uniforms are the best clothing they have—Léo’s younger brother glues himself to the window, watching the white-suited soldiers march.

Before Léo was adopted, when Rui was very young, he lost an older brother to the Games.

Léo keeps walking past him—their apartment is small, and the window is in the middle of everything—and each time, he places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Rui acknowledges him with small noises from deep in his chest, but his eyes never leave the road.

This is a case where singing probably won’t help, so Léo tidies the small apartment restlessly in silence.

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

WHG Prompt 1: The Big Day

Milí (District 6):

It’s the day of the Reaping. Nobody knows who will be Reaped yet. How does your character feel about the possibility of going to the Arena? How do they prepare?

@ratracechronicler

It’s six in the morning. The Reapings are live, going backwards in district order; District 12’s is at 7am and they go by the half hour, so District 6’s isn’t until 10 am. Milí stares at herself in the bathroom mirror, running her fingers over the smooth ridges of her braids. They spiral out from the crown of the left side of her head, weaving flat until they reach the nape of her neck. From there, they spill free down her back, bright red wool woven in to extend them so far down her back, she’s at risk of sitting on them.

The eye necklace peers around the tight, high neck of her bright yellow peplum dress; a gift from one of Papai’s friends in the Capitol—tailor made for her, with the buttons in the front, so she can put it on herself. The warm colors make her dark brown skin glow, even though the air outside is chilled. Especially when she puts on the woolen red coat, she’ll look like she’s going to a party.

Not seven peoples’ death sentences.

There is a knock on the door that startles her. “Emilia,” Papai calls. “Are you all right? You’ve been in there a while.”

Why is Papai even up yet? “I’m fine!” Milí lies, throwing the door open. “I was just looking at my…hair?” Milí stumbles over her words when she sees tears in Papai’s eyes.

“You just… Look just like her. Is all.” Papai says, wiping at an eye.

“Oh,” Milí says, but it’s all she can muster. She puts her hand on Papai’s shoulder, and his own hand reaches up to cover it. They both squeeze as tight as they can.

After a moment of silence, Milí says, “What are we going to do until nine?”

“Not watch television,” Papai says.

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

[tiny-goat-in-disguise]

WHG Prompt 1: The Big Day

Anzhé (District 8):

It’s the day of the Reaping. Nobody knows who will be Reaped yet. How does your character feel about the possibility of going to the Arena? How do they prepare?

@ratracechronicler

It’s 4:37:15am, according to the backlit face of Anzhé’s pocketwatch, when they finally slip back into their own bed. A little under an hour until reveille. They did encounter someone while coming out of the bathroom on the way back to their dorm, but the sleepy-headed student simply tossed them a sloppy salute that Anzhé gratefully returned.

The narrow bed feels cold in comparison to Luzu’s warmth, and Anzhé falls asleep with the ghosts of his touch tracing their skin.

*

Anzhé wakes a moment before the wake-up call rents the air. They always do, like their sleeping mind can count the constant ticks balled tightly in their fist each night. Groans fill the air, protesting the restless night, but the boys move nonetheless, crawling out of and making their beds.

Will one of the beds in this room be empty tonight?

Anzhé shakes the thought away, tossing their blanket so it unfurls over the bed. When they finish the tight, regulation-ready corners, they go help Terren, who isn’t moving fast enough—they have 129 seconds until Eich arrives to inspect the room and send them to the mess hall.

Terren grumbles his bleary thanks as Anzhé helps him with the blanket, and they manage to duck into their proper positions—standing at attention at the feet of their beds—just as Eich bursts into the room.

“Good morning, boys!” the woman intones, with even more brisk energy than usual. Huh. That she’s probably the kind of person who has more energy when exhausted explains things. She glances about the room from under her thick-rimmed glasses. “Anzhé!” Eich snaps, and Anzhé’s back straightens. “Your bed is atrocious. Stay here and make it right. The rest of you may proceed to breakfast.”

Anzhé doesn’t dare turn to look at their bed in confusion, but they do watch Eich’s back as she exits, the rest of the boys filing after her. For what it’s worth, a couple of the boys share confused looks with him as they walk past, and Terren, fully awakened by Eich’s harsh tone, mouths “Trouble, man?”

Anzhé gives a tight shrug, not daring to raise their arms. Terren widens his eyes, like Tell me if you make it to breakfast. Anzhé purses their lips—no promises.

As the last boy exits, Anzhé is turning to…remake their bed completely…? When Eich returns to the room. “Don’t bother with that,” she snaps, not looking at him. “Follow me.”

Huh? Anzhé follows Eich’s brisk pace towards the mess hall…

No. Towards Hall One.

Last night hits Anzhé again like a tidal wave. Luzu’s sweet, rough kisses, his tender calloused hands.

How did Eich find out? And what is she going to do to them? Anzhé’s grip tightens to a death grip around the pocket watch.

Luzuko is standing alone in the hall, right outside his door. His shoulders are tight, hands in fists at his sides, dark eyes on the floor. Eich catches Anzhé’s eye and gestures at the wall next to Luzu, and Anzhé takes their place next to him.

They so desperately want to reach for Luzu’s hand, but that could only make this worse.

Eich crosses her arms. “What is our mantra in this School?”

There is a pause. Anzhé opens their mouth first. “Attachment-“ Luzuko joins them, and they mumble the rest together “-is weakness, when you know that you might be next to die.”

“Correct.” Eich breathes out her nose with a force like steam. “I am training you to be warriors, to have a chance in the Games. This will only hold you back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luzu says, and Anzhé echoes him.

“One of you will volunteer today.”

What?

Eich pauses to let that sink in. The chatter of boys in the mess hall dims, as if someone has attached them to a volume knob, and blood rushes in Anzhé’s ears.

But…they have a year. The School always sends an eighteen-year-old, to give them the best fighting chance, the most time for training.

Anzhé sneaks a glance at Luzu. His light brown face is blanched with dread.

“If you both come back here this afternoon,” Eich says slowly, “One of you. Will use the other. For Practice.”

Practice.

The image in Anzhé’s mind, of their hands holding Luzu’s face in a kiss, twists. Luzu’s neck cracks sickeningly under the force of their blow.

No.

“Ma’am, it was my idea—”

“Three hours is a long time, is it not, Luzuko?”

Anzhé recoils like they were hit.

“I suppose so, Ma’am,” Luzuko grinds out.

“Then that is that,” Eich says, brushing nonexistent dust from her hands. “You may proceed to the mess hall. Tell no one of this.”

“Yes ma’am,” they say in unison. Luzuko takes off at a very brisk pace, and Anzhé all but runs after him.