Folk have asked Prof. Carrot and/or myself many times, “what happens if you wake up with writer’s block?” my/his/our answer is to write the first word to pop into your/my/his bounce and go from there. After a minute of furious nonsense, you’re/he’s/I’m back on track…tah-dah!
Don’t Blame Norris or the B’s. (or How to Smash the Block.) By C A Middleton 2021
Condiments are provided where needed.…
It had been a mess from the start. The carriage was meant to be carrying royal goods ripe for stealing, shiny things, precious stones, the kind of wares that would land a hard blow to the Midgar kingdom and line the pockets of villages against the King. The last thing in the world she expected to find was a young woman.
Having loosed an arrow laden with satchels of potent sleeping powder the first thud would be the only warning. The following whistles of her arrows pierced the satchels one by one, putting to sleep all who came near until the coachmen and all the accompanying guards were down for the count. Sharp-eyed, she should have realised. Two of the oddly-dressed guards weren’t guards at all, they were footmen, a clue she had overlooked that would have told her this wasn’t a carriage she wanted to target.
Her laugh was restrained as she approached on foot and tore open the door. A laugh that died quickly, face-to-face with someone who was awake. Someone who was dressed rather extravagantly... and there were no men carrying gold, no easy pickings. Just her. “What in the world-”
Then, a crackle, and a bolt of magic landed where she had stood mere seconds before. Aerith leapt into the carriage and harshly pulled the woman with her. “Move! We have to go, NOW!” One extreme to another, the unmistakable chanting of Cetran spellcasters at their back, she emerged from the other side of the carriage and stabbed her last remaining satchel of sleeping powder there. “Run!”
Sounds of children laughing carried through the field where Aerith playfully chased them along and back to their homes. The sun was cresting, bathing the world in a warm golden glow. It was their last warning that darkness was approaching and she for one didn’t want to be on the receiving end of unhappy parents for having kept them too long.
Though only a half-blood she still had a lot to teach about Cetran rituals. Preparing the fields for tilling was vital for the survival of their growing settlement, more mouths to feed meant expanding was necessary, and though the population was dominantly human they chose to turn their eyes away when it came to magic that benefited the greater good. Most people were accepting, though a few were wary. They feared what they didn’t understand. That’s what her mother told her.
So, she herself tried to keep an open mind. Perhaps that was why she didn’t immediately turn on her bare heels and run when she sighted a strangely-garbed man beneath a tree that had seen better days. Looking around as she brushed her hands clean it was a quick realisation that no one else had accompanied him. If they had they were very well hidden.
“Are you alright?” she called, approaching only as far as the green grass spread out, stopping where it had withered and died. Honestly she’d rather be on her way home. Having drained her magic she felt bone-tired. All she wanted was some food before she inevitably crashed, but the stranger gave her pause enough to at least check on him. He had probably traveled from afar and for all she knew he was a lone Cetra fearful of her village. “All on your own, huh. You have a camp?” she motioned to him, he certainly didn’t have the look of a traveler now that they were closer, “You’re traveling light.”
Thinking abt the myth of morpos and how there's three options presented to get out of the temple and how all of our monarchs resemble them
You choose the gold, you get robbed and killed by the bandits
You choose the sword, you become a bandit (king) yourself until you get killed in your sleep
You choose the wolf, you get out safely, but at the risk of the wolf turning on you
Sophos obviously chooses the wolf, the wolf in question being gen but also irene and her realistic approach to violence and pacifism. Sophos invites the wolf over into his country at the risk of the wolf turning on him, but he has faith in gen, and that faith is rewarded because gen does honour and treasure their friendship and comes to his aid without question
Irene fits into either of the other categories, but moreso the gold, if you ask me. It's explained in QoA that she sold all of the royal jewelry to gain the loyalty of the guard and outmaneuver the barons, but as gen explains in KoA,over time that loyalty will dissappear and can be bought by the highest bidder, essentially making them a kingmaking institution. Their personal faith in her is a fluke and a risk. Moreover, irene has to keep up a facade of strength and ruthlessness, and needs to isolate and repress herself to keep that up, chipping away at the real her until there's nothing left. To keep on top of the game, she is killing herself until gen steps in.
Both Gen and Helen I can see choosing the sword. Like irene says, they both gained a ready-made kingdom, and never had to make the concessions to their morality that she and sophos face. But Gen steps in to become king over a nest of vipers, and Helen's visions of eddis' fate makes her face impossible dilemmas, and ensures that she needs to lie and manipulate to her loved ones to save everything and everyone. They both need to become the bandits they abhor. Gen especially faces the fate of those who choose the sword, as he quite literally almost gets killed by said bandits.
no matter the mythology, no matter the sex asigned to thwir depiction, theMoon and Sun are lovers, ex weds, married with children, pining for one another, playing with eatchother, or any other form of love, apst current or present. and i believe that thats very beautiful
#and since this element is shared between every continent and myth and ethnos AFAIK. AFAIK. #we can geniuenly rule this as one of the biggest points of a polytheist primitive fully autonomous folk religion #like i think aliens in space would also come to the conclusion that thwir doryfor and theur star are lovers #and thr smaller doryfors if there are any. or the stars. or the planet. are the children
Reality Justice of the PataTapestry's Metafold Ergonodes
Reality Justice of the PataTapestry’s Metafold Ergonodes
Jerry Goodbonnets IV, learned the Artech from ancient books of foreboding lore. Jerry, being not the brightest orb-man in the Liminality’s low-hanging-fruit worlds, decided to toy around in the upper hypnozones where what Is, and what is Not can sometimes seem the same (to one such as Jerry.)
The Unbearable Hedron god tried to warn him off, but Jerry’s hubris was complete; his fate sealed.
It was always the same dream, Kiyoomi couldn’t recall the first time when it started, however it would always end the same way.
It would begin with him stuck in a plain field with nothing surrounding him except the hot sun and tall wild grass swaying with the breeze, unable to see what was past it.
He mostly chose to stay put and enjoy the time he had remaining. It almost felt too real, he could feel the sun beaming on his pale skin and it gave him an opportunity to find peace with the land, waiting for the worse to come when his physical self woke up.
On rare occasions, the days he felt lost with himself and believed that the world was against him, he would be able to vision a running stream nearby with his mother sitting along the edge, waiting for his arrival. She would talk to him and listen to his frustrations when he needed someone to hear him the most.
The dream always felt as if his body teleported him to a different place and time where the Gods of Olympus couldn’t find him. It was a place where he could neglect any and all obligations and live a life he wanted, not a life he was forced to have.
The first time he had dreamed this, he was mortified. He would call out for what felt like hours, wishing somebody to find him and tell him what to do.
Even after spending a century in the void of Cronus, he despised the feeling of being alone. Over time, much to his dismay, he began to enjoy it. He enjoyed the mere fact that nobody, not even Zeus could find him here. For once in his life, he finally felt serenity.
He would constantly remind himself that freedom always had a price to pay, no matter what it is in the end.
As his physical body slowly woke up, that's when the dream would become a nightmare from hell. The peaceful fields he learned to love and longed for would be enfluged with flames. Nothing but fire would surround him, destroying everything he saw. Ironically, he would always plea for somebody to put it out, knowing it was useless and his cries for help would never be heard.
He always came back to conscious drenched in cold sweats once the flames consumed him, and feeling the heat radiate his skin, almost as if he actually caught on fire.
It was one of those things that he never talked about it to anybody, because to him, it would be pointless to. After all it was a dream, nothing more and nothing less.
After a day like today, he felt his body drift to an unconscious state quickly the second his head hit his pillow.
Mentally, he already began to dread waking up in the morning. He knew that the moment he awoken, he would be back into his reality and forced to deal with his problems just like everyone else.
He was able to make out the field as soon as his eyes shut, but something felt odd.
It was different. It felt different
That night, for the first time ever, he didn't wake up in fear because of the fire, in fact he woke up in tears.
He woke up with a head filled with thoughts of determination to figure out what actually happened.
For the first time, he was able to make out trees in the distance. He heard the wildlife surrounding him, he could almost see a familiar Temple in the near distance, and he was able to feel somebody close by that was not his birth mother.
He was quick to recognize the location, one that he has recently been in.
For the first time in his life, what he wanted made it out intact and it was more than enough to tell him that he had a possible opportunity to be liberated from this life of power and greed and live a peaceful one.
It was because he saw you.
He didn’t know your name, but as soon as he saw your figure, he latched onto you as you reassured him that you and him would meet again.
He didn't want to leave this dream. He feared that he would never be able to see you again, to hear your voice that he grew to love, to hold you the way he was.
It felt so real as you placed a hand on his cheek and bid him farewell.
That morning, and perhaps for the first time in his life, Kiyoomi Sakusa finally knew what it felt to be free.
Though so much has been said about it, love is the one of the many things that has faded away in time. Well, that’s an actual proof of talking about something in redundancy doesn’t make it stay true or real. I think that’s what makes us say the universe getting old, perhaps. As if every beautiful thing is being sucked out like a marrow. And love(one of the pearls of this universe) has lost the…