You wake up with two small lumps on your back, just around your shoulder blades. Your friend has a similar dilemma, however, theirs are on their forehead, and look like zits. Small horns protrude from theirs, while feathers come from yours.
Within a month, you have large, white, dove wings, while your friend has long, curly horns. Turns out, you’re an angel, they’re a demon, and you’re supposed to fight. But you both’d rather just go see a movie.
she looks like the way summer tastes. but she’s my best friend. she’s just my best friend, and this entire thing is too cheesy.
she’s spitting up into the sink. blood has been in her mouth a lot ever since the teeth starting coming in. “do you think teething is like?” she lisps around a sore tongue “permanent?”
i’m scrubbing at my eyes. i’m allergic to certain animal dander. my body has been going through shock; fever on, fever off. the truth is that human bodies don’t like foreign cells inside of themselves.
“you know,” i say, “i wrote this story once.” the movie ended a while ago but we had to wait until the bathroom was empty. if we’re lucky, people just think we’re cosplaying. we locked the door behind us.
“my mouth hurts,” she says.
“i was like, twelve,” i say. i feel like there are mites, always, everywhere, crawling all over me. the other day a third set of eyes started growing in my hands. i’m not used to it yet and i get a lot of vertigo and 3D glasses per pair are super expensive. “it was bad.”
“i mean,” she pauses. “we look stupid.” for a second, the fire on her starts again, and she swears while she puts it out. i meanwhile send her another “i can be ur angle or yuor devil” meme, leaning against the counter while she again washes her mouth out.
“it was stupid,” i say. “i didn’t even know the word nephilim, like some kind of pleb.”
“get wrecked, twelve-year-old you,” she says.
i’ve learned a lot these past few months, have scoured the bible sixteen times. “The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them.” Genesis 6:4. Maybe that’s us. Or maybe we’re in the X-Men. If it wasn’t for the creepy voice who told us otherwise, we have no evidence.
i have trouble looking at her sometimes. not because she’s so different now, but because she makes my heart swell up like balloon. like an explosion. like heavenly light.
she makes eye contact with my original set. i feel my hearts start revving. she smiles at me in that way that makes me forget about wings and horns and eternal forces.
“i liked the movie, though,” i blurt.
“ugh!” she rolls her eyes, drying her hands by shaking them off. they again ignite, and she swears again, clapping them out. “it was bad, ray.”
i laugh, we head out. two girls in a jeep with too many layers for the heat. i can’t drive anymore, i’m too distracted by the extra eyes. she does better but has to stop sometimes to put out fires.
she pulls off on the lookout by the watertower to shake a few teeth loose. i stretch and almost fall over, unused to a new body and no balance. my bones are hollowing.
“was that crack your wrist?” she asks.
“yuh,” i say, holding it.
“yuck,” she says, “sounds broken.”
“might be,” i’m biting my tongue, “it’s lit.”
she comes over to examine it. “broken,” she says. she glows in the darkness, but i don’t know if that’s literally her or just how i see her, all alight with life and perfect. she helps me wrap it. we sit on the hood of her car and look out to the forest below us. we sip snapple i stole. i hear my bone heal. we both ignore the noise it makes.
“that guy is kind of a dingus,” i say. i put on a deep voice, “Thou must wage in the eternal war. Put on Earth so that thy may Know; as above and so below.”
“might not be a guy,” she says. “very gender-specific of you, ray.”
“my apologies,” i say to the sky, “that was crass of me. you can be whatever gender you want, giant sky voice. or many genders. or all. whatever works.”
“i’m still like… what the hell does that middle part about knowing mean. like. also. crack open a grammar book for the modern century.”
i “hmm” into my snapple. my running theory is that our time spent as mortals meant we knew what it was exactly we were fighting for. i don’t tell her this because my entire evidence is how i feel about her, is how every day with her made it worth it, how being her best friend was the best experience i ever had. but like. it’s chill.
“it’s a broken capitalist heaven economy,” i say. “war eternal?”
she laughs. i love it when she laughs. “at least you can be sure you’re going to the place that profits off of all of this,” she says. “heaven’s got the big guy.”
i make a note in the back of my throat and face her. “you don’t know that,” i whisper, “we’ve talked about this.”
she laughs in a new way, a sad one, staring out ahead of her. “yeah, you and your bible. ‘angels and demons are the same species but separated geospatially,’ blah blah blah, either one of us could be the damned soul, blah blah blah.”
“hey, i did research,” i say. “and i’m right, a lot of angels are…”
“goatish? have devil horns? light on fire?”
“micheal was like, forty to ninety percent fire.”
“micheal also was like, always an angel. he don’t need to question anything. fire? sure, he good. he was born angel.”
“i don’t know they’re like, born,” i say. i look up at her. “but i’m serious. i got like sixteen eyes and counting -”
“nine, you have nine”
“and like that’s not counting the spiritual aspect of this whole thing since -“
“oh my god, ray,” she says, sighing, “not this whole ‘morally impure’ thing again.”
“i’m just saying,” i don’t like how upset she is, but the more i try to fix it, the worse it is, “i’m not, like, a good person! i’m -” i stop myself two milliseconds before finishing the loaded end of that sentence about her, and how i feel, and the terrible gap before us.
she whips around and looks at me. just really looks, like i’m pinned there by her. for a second, she’s my best friend, not angel or demon, and she’s glaring.
“that’s not true and you know it,” she says, her voice barely over a whisper, “don’t say that kind of thing about yourself.”
i sigh and pull my hair, dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry,” i say, “i’m just… this whole thing is messed up and, like… i’m not… an angel, i guess.”
“i thought you said that the original angels were all-powerful and scary,” she says, “that purity was a new myth.”
i stare at her. how do i explain to my best friend that i’m taking advantage of her just by being around her; how every time she hugs me i mean more by it, how holding hands with her gives me little shocks that keep me happy.
“you know what?” she says, kicking off the hood, “fuck this, let’s go back to my place and let’s get drunk.”
we do.
late in the night i wake up and she’s not in bed anymore. i’m still drunk and my mouth feels like a trash bin. i blink in the light of her room, grab my toothbrush, put toothpaste on both tongues as an appetizer, just to dispel the taste. stretch the gross chicken-finger nubs of a sore back with six pairs of soon-to-be wings and stumble to her bathroom.
she’s sitting on the floor and her horns are gone. bandages bloodied with green ooze sit around her. black scars hide up in her hairline.
“how’s it going?” she says casually.
i drop everything onto the sink and drop to her side. “oh my god,” i whisper, my hands touching her warm skin, “what happened?”
she looks at me. our faces are so close i have to stop myself from shaking, but the more i look at what she’s done, the worse i feel for her. i push back her matted hair and reach for new gauze to wipe away the blood she missed. her hand loops gently around one of my wrists, not restraining, just comforting.
“it’s okay, ray,” she says softly, “i found a tutorial on the internet. how to cut off goat horns. it didn’t hurt that bad, i promise. like, when we pierced our own cartilage back in middle school hurt a lot worse.”
i stare at her. “you cauterized your own wounds and you expect me to calm down.” i clean up her face frantically. i feel tears, but i’m not sure in which pair of eyes.
“i didn’t say i cauterized anything.”
“it’s clear!” i almost burst into a thousand pieces, holding her round face in my hands, struggling to lower my voice, “it’s clear.”
“i’m okay,” she says, half-smiling, “i’m okay.”
“you should have woken me up,” i say. “what kind of -“
she kisses me and i understand why she’s got the power of fire. if i immolate, i don’t notice. we move from bathroom floor to hallway to bedroom. her hands and my hands and our bodies almost feel human.
when we finally separate, her voice is low. “fuck,” she says, “i wasn’t supposed to do that. you weren’t supposed to know.”
i’m breathless. i can’t form words. “know…?” i manage.
she leans in. kisses me again. “i like you, ray,” she whispers, “i like you a lot, you giant six-winged bug.”
“in a gay way?” i ask.
she laughs. “the gayest.”
“okay,” i say. i’m shaking. “because, like, i like you too. like. in the gay way.” my voice sounds different, high and tense and fluttery. almost too loud, even though we’re both whispering.
“your wings kind of look like chicken fingers,” she says, “or like, really big nipples.”
“you know,” i say, “i think the same thing.” i stare at her. all of my eyes, on her, on this girl, on the girl i can’t have, on the girl i couldn’t have even if we weren’t magical beings from a metaphysical plane, because we’re best friends and that matters more than anything.
i think of us and of our future and of her, surrounded by the pieces of her horns, and of my wings, and of the world. i think of the bad movie we watched and how it was good because she was next to me. i think of the words of the giant sky voice and how we’re supposed to fight in an eternal war and how i do know, how i’ve always known, how love was the only thing that was worth fighting for, how she has always been my angel. how i would tear heaven down in order to have her and that’s how i know: i’m the one who fell long ago.
she deserves heaven and holy and the best things. she deserves more than a twelve-year-old’s silly plotline, more than to be forced into fate, more than to be a drafted soldier. she deserves a better life than this.
look out, god, i think, i’ve got a hell of a bone to pick.
“i love you,” i whisper, “and i have loved you for a long time.”
she kisses me.
in the morning, i’m gone.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH What the fuck AAAAAAH This is glorious!
it is SO much easier for teachers to be like “hey we’re going to be talking about *sensitive topic* tomorrow so be prepared” and a student who knows that topic is one of their traumas can mentally prepare themselves, or decide “hey i’d rather not risk having an anxiety attack today, i think i’ll just stay home” instead of springing it on them last second and making a student feel like shit
thats literally all a “trigger warning” is in the context of schools. being like “hey we’re discussing this, take and precautions you need to prepare” not completely banning sensitive material. is it so hard to just try to be sensitive and caring to other people’s needs
Speaking from experience, this is correct!
In Middle School, after the release of 13 Reasons Why it was put on our required reading list for my class. We were expected to read chapters and be able to come into class to discuss sections of the book.
HOWEVER
On the spectrum of victims that are produced through suicide, (and I phrase it this way because one who dies is not the only victim) I struggled with being able to comfortably talk in a group about the events in the book. Knowing that was a major theme of the story meant it was easier to read, but there were some chapters that were too difficult for me to discuss in a group.
My teacher, recognizing this, allowed me to bypass discussion in a group in favor of a small write up. I was also allowed to spend class time in the library rather than in discussion for those particular sections.
So: it’s important for teachers to be up front about material that might cause triggered reactions in students. It’s also important for students to be up front about topics that are triggering (difficult as that may be).
The only reason this teacher knew about the issues I had is because I had talked to her about them prior. I’ve written every memoir ever assigned to me on that horrible experience; I’m not saying you have to do that, I’m just saying it makes it easier if you can say: “I’m not comfortable with the material because of personal issues involving X”
So… I’m new to this. And I wanted to start off by saying that I don’t post on things like this much. But… I want to work on my writing some more. So… once in a while… I’d like to be social and post some of my works. So… here’s something I wrote up today as a little test. Just a quick excerpt. Nothing fancy.
————————————————–
His hands gave another violent tremor as more footsteps
marched past the far tree to his left. This world’s sky was unusually dark at
this time of night, and its people were relentless in their search for his
position. Even now, as he continued to press his back against a strangely
smooth, square stone, his senses continued to work overtime as his heart
pounded harder with each footstep that came within several steps of his poor
hiding place.
Another tremble erupted through his hands, this time moving
its way up to his shoulders, through his chest, and to his neck. He instantly
grabbed his left arm at his wrist and squeezed it for dear life. “Not now,” he thought to his arm as the tremble
faded again. He had been in this strange world too long. He needed to gather
enough power to summon a portal back. But obtaining that level of power
required a full amount of concentration in order to tap into his years of focus
at keeping his power in a state of tranquility and calmness. However, in the
state his body was in, he knew that should he summon his power at that very
instant… well… if his mistress could see him now. The only other word that came
to his mind at that moment was “Fool”, as she had grown quite fond of saying when
she referenced him in any way. “Fool this, fool that. Fool, can you take out
the garbage? Fool, can you control your own power? Fool, can you stop being as
weak as your parents for one second?”
He let out a chuckle as his body gave off a full tremor just
as one more footstep sounded ten steps to his left, followed by another set of
approaching footsteps. There were two of them that he could see from where he
was, each holding metallic weapons that held mechanical movements he had never
seen or heard before. However, he knew that they were weapons… and he had the
marks to prove it on his arms and a small gash on his left leg. Yet though they
were healing at their usual rate, he needed more time before he could counter
them with his full mindset still intact.
“Do you see it?” the first one said. Luckily, they spoke a
language quite old in his own world, yet their vocalized usage of the language
held a strange pep to it that felt almost… juvenile.
“No,” the other replied, a slight quiver in his voice. “Did
you see how it moved though?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean…,” the second one gulped before speaking again, “It
was like the night was swirling around us! I’ve never seen anything like that.
Should we even be out here?”
The first one knocked the second on their shoulder. “Control
yourself, man! The higher ups send us out here to do this kind of thing all the
time. A portal opens, we go. And our orders are always the same. Capture or
eliminate depending upon cooperation. We’ve done this a million times.”
“Yeah, I know… but…,” the second one took a second to look
about the woods. From the looks of it, his vision wasn’t the best. Then again,
none of these strange beings appeared to be that capable under the protection
of the night waves. Even with their strange mechanical devices attached all
about their bodies, they still seemed unsure of their surroundings, even unsure
of their own potential. It was a useful fact to know right now and perhaps for
the future as well.
“No buts!” the first one shouted. “HQ has a high priority
for this one and it’s our job to do whatever it takes to bring this Class 0
Otherworldly Being in.”
“But…”
“What did I just say?”
The second one sighed before hoisting his metallic weapon up
to his shoulder as he pointed it towards the Otherworldly Being’s hiding spot.
The being braced for what was to come, but strangely, the second one’s weapon
veered off slightly to the right as a third set of footsteps soon approached.
Soon, a thinner third individual stepped into view. This one held two smaller
weapons on their hips and had a white piece of stone on their right shoulder.
“Captain!” the second one stated.
“Soldiers,” the third individual stated. Their voice was a
much higher pitch than the first two, perhaps a female of their race. But the
strength the being sensed from her was… intense… and also “contained” in a
strange sort of way. But based on their common form of ranking that he had
encountered many times before, he assumed that this one held control that far
outweighed the power of the first two. “Status report.”
Both soldiers reached their hands to their heads in a
strange motion before the first one answered first, “No sign of the subject
yet, Captain. But it couldn’t have gotten far with the number of constructs we
hit it with.”
“Yeah!” the second one piped with bizarrely renewed vigor. “I’ve
never seen anyone escape you like that though, Captain. Even with your accuracy
and ability, I guess a Class 0 really does outshine anything we have in this
world. I mean for starte—.” The second one gave the first a pop on the head,
silencing him immediately.
“Quiet! We aren’t here to gloat or to earn brownie points,
Johns. We are here with an important job. So stop wasting the Captain’s time.”
The second one, now identified as Johns, rubbed the metallic
covering on top of his head before speaking once again, “You didn’t have to hit
me so hard, ya know, Mack.”
“Hmph,” Mack bellowed as he repositioned his weapon closer
to his chest, “We both know that the only way to knock some sense into you is
literally. But I digress. Captain, there are no signs of the Class 0. But our
sensors tracked its movements to this part of the woods. Its powers are unlike
anything we’ve seen. Its movements and abilities are almost… monstrous.” The
being would have almost felt a tad bit of offense if Mack’s words hadn’t been…
well… okay… they were a bit true… but only in certain situations… like this
one for instance.
“Well keep your eyes open for anything. This one seems truly
extraordinary. If possible, I’d like to track it down before it causes any more
commotion for us. We don’t want the masses seeing anything like this. And we
definitely don’t want such a rare Class to get away like this. Not when we are
at such a crucial point in the HQ’s research.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to prepare for what’s to come if
we are able to capture the Class 0, ma’am? Mack asked.
“Of course not,” the Captain replied. “Thinking that we can
prepare for the worst is what caught us off guard like this in the first place.
No, the only way to prepare for the worst is to encounter the worst head on and
think about the consequences later. Waiting for the worst to come to us first
will only bring us to another massacre. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve
had enough of burying our own.”
“True words, Captain, “Mack proudly stated as Johns gave a
jubilant nod next to him.
“Now, stick together and head North. I’ll check the East
again. ETA to our next rendezvous is 20 minutes.”
Both men gave another strange salute before proceeding
North. But… strangely, the Captain did not move from her position. Instead, she
drew her left arm close to her face and removed her metallic cap from her face,
revealing a pale face with a heavy scar down the left side. Her hair was a
dirty red almost approaching brown, and her eyes were heavy, as though the
whole world were on her shoulders and no one else’s. It was a look the being
had seen on his mistress’ face for many years, a look he hoped to see once
again if he could one day… assuming that she… well…
His body reacted before he consciously thought about it as
he whirled behind just as the loud crunch of a footstep came but three steps
away from him. It was one of them, a new soldier he hadn’t seen before that had
slipped past his senses as they had been preoccupied with the reflection into
past memories in his mind. How he hated being in a flustered state like this.
But he had wanted to test his prowess in another world. He wanted to show off
just how powerful he had become and that no matter the place or time in space,
he could handle it. But obviously, he had bargained for more that he had
sought.
“Soldier 5.23 of the Divinity Unit calling headquarters, I
have found the suspect. Moving in for suppression and containment.” As the
soldier finished speaking to a person unseen by the being, the being put up his
hand and held it widely before himself, which caused the soldier to clasp its
weapon tighter, its center point aimed directly at the being’s hand.
“No— now see here,” the being stuttered. It had been so
long since it had spoken in a common dialect like this. So it took a while for
his brain to find the right words again. “I don’t want to do this. Please let
me be on my way. I mean you no harm.”
The soldier’s weapon made a loud click as the soldier
pressed the back end of it more into their shoulder. “Do not dare to speak to
me, Class 0. You are an otherworldly threat that has entered our world without
permission. Lay down any weapons you have and put your everything on the
ground, now!”
“Without permission?” The otherworldly being laughed,
despite the situation. “Does your kind control the borders between worlds?”
“What?” the soldier clumsily asked.
“I said… does your kind control the borders between worlds?”
“Who cares about the borders?” the soldier rudely stated. “All
I care about is protecting this world. And if you come here uninvited, then you
should be prepared for the consequences. Is that clear?”
The being sighed before speaking again. “You are not
listening at all. If your kind does not control the borders between worlds,
what gives you the right to tell another world’s beings what to do and not to
do? Who gave your kind the permission to dominate a full world to yourself?”
A hard, shell-like mass whizzed out of the soldier’s weapon
and hit the stone structure just above the being’s right shoulder. The being’s
body began to tremble all over, only this time, he knew he wouldn’t be able to
stop it. It was a feeling he had thought he had grown to have full control
over. But… he didn’t think another world would throw his emotions so out of his
control… nor his own power. And so… if he didn’t use all of his concentration here
and now to halt his body… well…
The being grunted once at the spot where the shell had hit
before looking back at the soldier. “Please don’t do that again. I have grown
quite tired of those devices.”
“I give the commands here, Class 0. Now, as I said before,
everything on the ground!” The soldier tightened his grip upon the weapon once
again. “Or this time… the next one is going in your head.”
The tremble in the being’s arm was at a point he knew he
couldn’t stop. But if he could just escape this one soldier, then maybe… just
maybe… he wouldn’t have to hurt him in any way. After all, it had been years
since he had last had an outbreak. And if he ever did lose control again… well…
he didn’t dare think of what his mistress would say if he did.
“Hey, who is over there? Identify yourself this instant!”
The being had forgotten that the Captain had still been quite close to his
current position.
“Captain!” the soldier began, “This is soldier 5.23. I have
the subject over here!”
“Do not engage!” the Captain began to yell as the being
heard her footsteps begin to close in, “I repeat… do not engage!”
“But, Captain! The subject is cornered and… huh? Where is…?”
The soldier looked down at his weapon, then grew a sense of confusion upon
himself as he realized that his weapon was now in the snow before him, along
with one of his arms. “Wha… what? WHAT?!” Though the being couldn’t visually
see the soldier’s face due to the metallic cap the soldier had covering his
whole face, the being’s senses were still easily able to sense the fear
beginning to disseminate about the soldier’s entire body.
But it was far too late for the soldier before the being,
and the soldiers about the woods as well. The being gave a sniff of the soldier’s
second arm in his hands before throwing away in disgust. The trembling had
stopped… but that was only because his body had finally moved completely into a
state of fight or flight unique to him and him alone. The shadows began to wrap
around him, their cold touch permeating his body down to his very cells… their
embrace beginning to warp his mind into a state of kill or be killed. In this
state, all he could do was sit back like a passenger in his own body as
instinct took over, the instinct to live. And though the soldier before him was
helpless now, the being knew that his instincts did not distinguish between
defenseless and a threat in this state.
No, the only thing his body cried out to his mind right now
was the will to survive, the will to live, and the will to kill anything that
stood in his way. Another footstep sounded two steps away from the being. But
the Captain was far too late for the being was already five steps away from
her, then ten steps away, then… well… he could barely hear her heartbeat from
where he now stood. But, as he looked at the head clutched between his fingers,
a sense of intrigue flooded its way into his instincts. It felt almost as if…
yes… he knew without a doubt. This world… perhaps this world held more for him
than he thought. He threw the head away as another heartbeat came within
several steps of him. And… without another thought… the shadows wrapped
themselves around him again as the night became his once again.
—————————-
Once again, nothing fancy. Just… a quick thing I thought of. I should end this first post with something nice. Let’s see… dank memes make the world a better place!
What were your childhood favorite books that no one else seems to know? Not Harry Potter or Percy Jackson, but the book no one else has ever heard of. Mine is Princess from Another Planet.
The Tales Of Chrestomanci
This is driving me bonkers. There was a book that I almost stole in fifth grade. We had a little ‘library’ shelf in our class; we could pick one book to keep in our desk to read during free time. There was a book I found that had a really strong princess character. I loved that book. I kept it for a month and kept reading parts over. A classmate asked if she could read it when I was done, and I lied. I kept saying I wasn’t done with it and kept it for another month and only reluctantly returned it at the end of school because stealing is bad.
I loved that book so damn much and I can’t for the life of me remember what is was.
The Oran Trilogy (originally the Queens’ Quarter Series) by Midori Snyder. God I love these books.
Die Söhne der großen Bärinby Liselotte Welskopf-Henrich (the link is to the Wikipedia entry about the movie since I can’t find any English language links for information about the books.)
I Road a Horse of Milk White Jade by Diane Wilson and Star Split by Kathryn Lasky.
there’s one even i can’t remember–it was about a kid (i can’t even remember their gender) getting dumped in the desert and the only reason they survive is because they find a six pack (which may or may not have had all six) of coke
Bartlett and the Ice Voyage by Odo Hirsch, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones, Squashed by Joan Bauer. EVERYTHING by Tamora Pierce.
Tailchaser’s Song was a really interesting novel that had great characters and worldbuilding, and is one of the few books I went back to read again. Plus it was about cats. I never read the Warrior Cats series, but I’m sure folks who like that would also like Tailchaser’s Song.
Gathering Blue by Lois Lowry! And for some reason Watership Down by Richard Adams.
The Green Rider Series i read the first two books back to back until they fell apart
Doctor Franklin’s Island and the Maximum Ride Series
I liked books about kids who had been through traumatizing genetic experimentation I guess?
After unleashing one too many buried evils, the dwarves said “bugger this” and moved as far away from the Underdark as possible. Their entire civilisation now occupies a swarm of small space stations in high Earth orbit. 90% of them work in material science and telecommunications.
Gnome society has become steadily more obsessed with concealment and illusions until, in the present day, most gnomes use illusory disguises full-time to masquerade as members of other races. Almost everyone knows at least one gnome; almost no-one is aware of it.
Though halflings have a reputation as drugged-out savants, the truth of the matter is that their pharmacological science is incredibly advanced, particularly in the area of cognitive and empathic performance enhancement. At any given time, your average halfling is under the influence of a complex brew of brain-boosting drugs (which only work for halflings); there are fewer side effects than you’d think.
Orcish culture’s preoccupation with violent spectacle has evolved into an unstoppable entertainment industry. The largest orcish nation is also the global centre of production for big-budget summer blockbusters; orcish martial arts musicals are particularly popular among other races. Most orcs at least casually practice some sort of performance art, though some resent the expectation that they should.
Elves are hardcore gamers. All of them. It’s the cornerstone of their civilisation. Elvish video games tend to be unfathomably abstruse, unimaginably difficult, or both; being into “elf games” is regarded as a mark of refinement, though in truth most non-elves don’t really understand them.
Do you mind if I shamelessly rip this off? ‘Cause I really wanna shamelessly rip this off.
Knock yourself out. I do games about fairies – I’m never going to use any of this stuff myself.
I love the idea that younger elves love video games, but the older ones remember prefer the old fashioned games. These are not chess or Go, but are more like stupidly complex Euro boardgames or complex trading card games like Magic but worse.
There’s a bit of that, yeah, though most old-timers were totally on board with the transition to electronic media. Elves don’t have the same relationship with physical artefacts that humans do. The real intergenerational pissing contest these days is about whether speed-running is a legitimate art form, or just screwing around.
(It’s exacerbated by the fact that speed-running as an organised practice actually originated among humans, so a lot of older elves regard it with suspicion on that basis alone.)
Elf streamer: Hey, this is Valuriagod420 with another any percent speed run of The Doom of Karum Dul Run. I know Entmaster beat my previous time but I’m gonna get it back. This game is mine!
[Several minutes later]
Streamer: OK so we are still looking good to hit the 38 minute and 23 second mark right on schedule. Now here we can slip past a lot of dudes by back rolling into this corner 12 times and then using an orcish…
Elf Dad (from upstairs): Are you speed running down there! I told you no son of the Everleaf house will partake in any of that nonsense! If you’re not in a 1v1 comp match by the time I get down there, then goddesses help me I’ll throw you out into the dark hallow to face the 5 trials by YOURSELF!
Heh.
Since the notes seem to be stuck on the gaming thing, let’s expand on that:
The dwarven obsession with dating sims is proverbial. The orbital colonies are both the largest consumers of dating sims – dwarf-made or otherwise – and among the most prolific producers, playing host to several major publishers and a thriving indie scene. Dwarven dating sims typically feature complex crafting and engineering subgames alongside relationship-building gameplay; the two sides often share the same basic mechanics, thus framing relationship-building as a process of literal social engineering.
Gnomish games, conversely, usually aren’t simulating anything at all, being purely abstract puzzle-solving affairs with a heavy emphasis on spatial manipulation and pattern matching. When gnomish gamers get into more mainstream titles, they tend not to recognise a distinction between “playing” and “breaking”; a gameplay video put together by a gnome is more likely to be a glitch exhibition or a thirty-five-minute lecture on the finer points of terrain collision detection than it is to be a demonstration of the game being played as intended.
It’s perhaps unsurprising that halflings are often drawn to twitch games. Indeed, one of the latest controversies in competitive gaming revolves around whether halfling nootropics ought to be banned as performance-enhancing drugs. Critics point out that human gamers routinely compete while juiced up on caffeine; responses have ranged from insisting that it’s different (though one can quite agree how) to proposals to ban caffeine from competitive gaming as well. The latter have historically been poorly received.
Some might expect orcish video games to be plotless gore-fests. Those who do badly misunderstand orcish culture’s relationship with violence. Sure, it all comes down to ass-kicking in the end, but first the protagonist and the final boss are going to have a ten-minute conversation about their feelings in order to properly contextualise it. One of the most popular orcish video games in recent years concerns a young hero who achieves enlightenment and saves a lost kingdom by coming to the realisation that all communication is violence.
Honestly my favorite part of this is the idea of Orcish culture evolving into the entertainment capital of the world. I picture that centuries ago there was some Dark Lord type or another who was overthrown not by a rag-tag band of adventurers of the more classically heroic races but by the orcs themselves, who were tired of being exploited and slaughtered meaninglessly, who then looked at one another when the rubble settled and wondered, collectively, “What now?”
And then apparently deciding that the answer to this was channeling a history of nonstop violence into art, sports and theater.
Orcs killed their gods, then wrote a musical about it.
(This is also a big part of the reason that most orcish polities are at least moderate socialists. “No gods, no masters” carries a lot more punch when you can physically point to the decapitated skull of your former chief deity on display in your legislative assembly’s foyer.)
So you’re telling me that orcs have a culture that channels violent aggression into art and that they’re socialists? I think I have a new favorite race.
I wonder if there’s a particular way in which their gods are ‘traditionally’ depicted in performance. Depending on the genre of the work I could see them as anything from aloof and inimical to bombastically awful to bumbling and self-important.
(Headcanon: one of the more influential early works had the chief of the gods portrayed by an actor standing on a high platform out of the view of the audience, with lighting above and behind him in such a way that he appears as a shadow cast on the backdrop, looming over the heroine of the piece.)
And bringing it back around to video games, orcish CRPGs often depict the gods as controlling and abusive parental figures. There’s a popular meme where you describe an orcish CRPG as “the one where you kill God at the end”. The joke is that’s all of them.
I can’t believe Square-enix is actually run by orcs
This world’s equivalent of Square-Enix is a collaboration between orcish and dwarven game developers, initially conceived of as an overture of cultural reconciliation. Opinions regarding the outcome are… mixed.
Anyway, we’ve done elves and orcs – let’s do dwarves!
The reasons why the bulk of the dwarven population now lives in orbital habitats – or “habs”, as they’re colloquially known – are complex, ranging from resource exhaustion in ancestral delves to political tension with human neighbours, and only partly involve the increasing incidence of demons of shadow and flame from before the dawn of time. “We did it to get away from all the damn balrogs” lies somewhere between an oversimplification and a private joke.
(Incidentally, many dwarves will seriously side-eye any non-dwarf who brings up the balrog thing, even in jest, owing to the fact that dwarven greed being responsible for unleashing evil upon a previously pristine world is a once-popular racist canard. Elves in particular receive very little benefit of the doubt.)
One surprising factor behind the move, however, is biological: dwarven resistance to magic and poison also applies to cosmic rays. Most habs have no radiation shielding whatsoever, which enormously simplifies their construction compared to general-purpose space stations, at the cost of rendering them unsuitable for long-term residence by non-dwarves. This suits most dwarves just fine.
The move to orbit didn’t mean an end to mining: captured comets and asteroids are towed into high orbit for processing by specialised resource extraction habs. Bringing the whole asteroid home is much more convenient than trying to process it on-site, and unmanaged de-orbiting events almost never happen.
(Just don’t ask a dwarf about about what happened to their former terrestrial capital – it’s a touchy subject.)
Also, it turns out that about one in twenty asteroids contains unhatched space-demon eggs. This is widely regarded as proof of the dwarven cultural conviction that the universe is out to get them. (Thanks to @perfectly-ultimate-great-shoofle for this one!)
Apart from resource extraction, dwarven habs play many other roles, from solar power collection to telecommunications to zero-G manufacturing to research and development. Most habs are small enough – a few hundred residents at most – that they’re effectively single-function, and all dwarves hailing from habs with the same function are considered to be members of the same clan, even if their respective orbits are nowhere near each other.
Dwarven gamers who live on telecommunications habs enjoy fantastic ping, and are justly reviled for it by their terrestrial opponents.
WEEEEEEEEEE’ER DWAARVES IN SPAAACE
Halflings tho. What if they are the one who make music and advertisements? They know a lot about every races minds, so they can make super emotional music that makes you really sad or happy and stuff. And the advertisments are super convincing. Most halfings that do advertise are rich and are hard to hire.
Sure, let’s talk about halflings.
Halflings have few independent nations, with most integrated into human communities. Their living arrangements are often quite different, though. It’s a matter of debate whether it’s cultural or biological, but whatever the reason, most halflings prefer to have housemates. Lots of housemates.
Their small size makes it easier than you might think: a human one-bedroom apartment, suitably refurbished, can comfortably accommodate 4-6 halflings, and a single-family dwelling can house well over a dozen.
Members of a given household are typically unrelated, and membership can be very fluid; some halflings regularly cycle between households, while closely aligned households may frequently trade members. In spite of this, friction is rare, thanks in large part to the judicious use of empathy-enhancing drugs to promote rapid group bonding.
The halfling penchant for doing things in groups extends to romantic pursuits. When two compatible households meet, double dates are not uncommon; nor are triple dates, quadruple dates, and occasionally duodecuple dates. A successful match may result in swapping members, though if they’re very well-aligned and suitable housing can be found, they may simply merge into a single, larger household instead.
Such romances are not always restricted to tidy pair-bonds; at least as often, they result in non-Euclidean polyamorous tangles that make perfect sense to halflings and are utterly incomprehensible to everyone else. This contributes in no small part to the halfling stereotype as a bunch of free-loving stoners, even among those who should know better.
The offspring of a household are expected to get together with their friends and strike out to found their own households once they come of age. Halflings regard this practice as essential to preventing households from becoming too insular. They still keep in touch with their natal households via social media, though; a typical halfling’s contact list may require more than three spatial dimensions to adequately model.
None of this is to say that halfling introverts don’t exist, of course. Household-dwelling halflings are generally non-judgmental toward halflings who live alone, but there’s a definite expectation for them to be wildly eccentric. Many solitary halflings gleefully take advantage of the social latitude this expectation affords them.
Halfling gaming parties are a sight to behold. A party game that only supports eight simultaneous players is scarcely worthy of the name; the latest generation of party fighters routinely support 32-player free-for-alls. It’s a matter of some conjecture whether it’s the brain-boosting drugs or simply long practice that allows halflings to keep track of what’s going on, because certainly nobody else can!
It’s kind of annoying me that people keep reblogging the version of this post without halflings, so obviously the only way to fix that is to make it even more needlessly complicated.
Gnomes!
As with the dwarves-versus-balrogs thing, the gnomes-in-disguise thing hovers somewhere between a stereotype and an oversimplification. The truth of the matter is that gnomish culture has very particular ideas about public versus private spaces, especially when it comes to identity.
As far as gnomes are concerned, one’s public identity should be distinct from, and – ideally – impossible to provably connect with, one’s private identity. Private identities are known only to family and close friends, and separation between the two spheres often runs in both directions; those who know a gnome in her private identity may well have no idea who she is in public.
Separation of identities is maintained by adopting
not only
a different name and persona in public, but a different physical appearance as well. Traditionally, this is achieved via loose, form-concealing clothing and fanciful masks, though an increasing number of gnomes are opting for full-body magical illusions instead. The latter are a recent development, depending on techniques developed only a few decades ago, and are regarded as suspiciously newfangled by many older gnomes.
The notion of “secret gnomes” arises from the fact that, while gnomes who favour illusons generally disguise themselves as a different gnome, many are of the opinion that, when dwelling in communities where gnomes are in the minority, even letting it be publicly known that you are a gnome can represent a breach between public and private spheres.
(This tactic may also be adopted in communities that make it illegal to go masked in public; that such laws often make exceptions for gnomes notwithstanding, it’s easier not to draw attention in the first place!)
If you think you recognise a gnomish friend in public, don’t call her by her private name. It’s awkward if you’ve guessed wrong and mortifying if you’ve guessed right, and she probably won’t acknowledge it either way.
Needless to say, gnomes took to social media and online gaming like ducks to water, developing a bewildering taxonomy of subtle gradations between the public and private spheres to reflect various online spaces, often maintaining a separate identity for each platform or community.
Accidentally posting to the wrong blog is a faux pas on a level that most non-gnomes can’t readily understand. If you happen to witness it, it’s best to pretend you didn’t see.
Some gnomes have remarked that humans who use online handles are appropriating gnomish culture, but they’re mostly joking. Mostly.
So, who plays Dwarf Fortress of these folks, and what’s it called? Is it still Dwarf Fortress?
Picture a game that’s every bit as baroque and prone to strange failure modes as our own world’s Dwarf Fortress, except instead of a community-building sim it’s a text-based dating sim, set in a fictionalised version of a pre-exodus mining colony. It’s actually called something different in the original Dwarven, but its real title is an untranslateable idiom, so the Tradetongue localisation goes with the unimaginative but bluntly descriptive name we’re all familiar with.
Patch notes for version
0.40.23:
Correctly end bonding events when both parties killed on same frame
Fix heterosexuality-related softlock when worldgen results in single-gender fortress
Apocalypses now interrupt weddings if any participant passes perception check (previously required all participants to pass)
Dwarves no longer accuse you of cheating on them with themselves
Adjusted value of hats
So are human videogames in this whole thing basically what they are irl or like slightly to the left of real life due to fantasy cultural influences? (I know humans are boring but I’m curious)
Human video games labour under the seemingly contradictory stereotypes of being all about the Power of Friendship and being all about killing the protagonist off at the end. Most folks will tell you that the prototypical human-developed video game is one in which the hero bridges cultural divides, builds profound friendships, and brings the light of compassion to dark places, then promptly dies beautifully* and is elaborately mourned by their new family.
* (Substitute “becomes trapped in purgatory”, “is forced to sever ties by cruel circumstance” or “turns out to be imaginary”, as appropriate.)
Elven critics claim that this tendency is a reflection of humans’ ambivalence toward their own mortality. Orcish commentators insist that it’s more evidence of humanity’s collective messiah complex. The prevailing halfling opinion is that humans sublimate their dissatisfaction with their barren family lives into their art (but then, halflings think that about everyone). Dwarves quite like the relationship-building bits, for the most part, but they could do without all the dying – they’ve gotten quite enough of that in real life! – and gnomes didn’t notice the melodrama because they glitched past all the cutscene triggers.
The truth? Humans are just huge drama llamas, mostly.
(On the general gaming culture side, in addition to speed running, it’s generally agreed that humans also came up with the idle game. Between inventing the concept of spending as little time as possible actually playing the game and inventing the concept of a game that plays itself for you, many non-humans privately suspect that humans aren’t entirely clear on the whole concept.)
Inquisition of the wild
(DA inquisition + breath of the wild)
Splatoon and Mass Effect HOOOOMYGOD
Uncharted Andromeda
The Witcher 3: Skyrim
SWTOR: Andromeda
The Elder Scrolls IV : Overwatch
Mass Sims 6 (Mass Effect 2 + The Sims 4)
Borderlands XV: The Pre-Sequel
DADDY SHELTER
fill your vault with hot single dads
The Witcher 3: Wild Gwent
World of…Neverwinter?
Freedom Force and Freedom Force vs. the Third Reich.
I feel there’s a bit of duplication going on.
Hollow Knight and Divinity: Original Sin.
I need this game.
Borderlands the Pre Sequel and Crash Bandicoot: N Sane Trilogy….
YES GOOD
Athena and Janey taking the places of Crash and Coco while Handsome Jack is N. Cortex?
I got Guild Wars 2 and Paladins… Which I imagine is some humans, giants, goblins, plant-elves, and horned cats shooting each other over a cart full of bombs
I am having Fanart Inspiration right now
Guild Wars 2 + Mass Effect Andromeda.
Elder Dragon, meet railgun.
The Witcher 3 + Dream Daddy = Basically TW3 but Geralt is gay and all the LIs are men ALSO looking for their lost children?
Ori and the Blind Forest + Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor.
I.
Hm.
Pokémon Go and Dream Daddy
…I am extremely ready for this.
Dragon Age: The Sims 3 or possibly Sims 3: Origins
Not sure which sounds better, but I’d play either. And more or less do.
Final Fantasy 14 and Starbound.
… eh, it could work. Gimme the miqo’te mod for Starbound and I’m good to go.
Stellaris and Breath of the Wild Let’s have a Zelda adventure while conquering space
Monster Game Concept Time! (Art is all conceptual)
We can all agree that Attraction is a complicated thing. Whom we are attracted to involves a variety of factors. In this case I’m focusing on Aesthetic attraction.
I’ve decided to use a slider system and a variety of categories to better represent people’s differences in style and preference. Options in the game will allow you to alter your aesthetic which will move these sliders. Certain Characters are more interested in certain slider values.
The slider’s are as follows:
Soft Vs Sharp Soft brings to mind the image of fluffy clouds. It’s rounded shapes and pastel colors. It’s soft blankets and fuzzy animals. Sharp carries thoughts of spikes and stone. Its rough around the edges and has fine lines. It’s neat and defined. It’s scales and spines.
Gentle Vs Dangerous Gentle is a long quiet. It’s delicate and smooth. It’s warm and comforting. Dangerous is mysterious and harsh. It’s bold and edgy. It’s cool and intriguing.
Classic Vs Modern Classic style is old and well worn. It’s a nostalgic image of old or rural life. Modern is crisp and new. It’s fresh and exciting and “hip”
The Fashion Scale The last scale (not pictured) is the fashion scale. The fashion scale scales from Low to High. This is the finalizer of an aesthetic and is hard to describe on its own.
Beneath the sliders, I’ve drawn a picture of a skull in a spiked headband with flowers. The skull makes the image more Dangerous (as do the spikes, I would think) while the soft colors and the flowers makes the image Soft (and a bit more gentle)
Ideally, what I’m trying to do is avoid using the terms “Masculine” and “Feminine” in reference to appearance, as everyone fits in their own category and I don’t want to alienate anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable with those terms. Additionally, I want to show how different people really are in regards to personal appearance.
This won’t be all that’s involved with NPC attraction, but this is probably the easiest thing the player will have control over in wooing their Monster Date-mate of choice. A simple change of clothes or hairstyle (or other things that I’m not ready to talk about just yet) can completely turn your aesthetic around; and I want this to be modifiable at any time during play.
Soft no covers a lot of bases, with monogamish being one of them, I think.
Soft no means, “I feel like I might be more comfortable being your only romantic connection, but I trust you enough to see if this can work out.”
Soft no means, “I’ve never been in a situation like this, but I would be willing to give it a shot if it makes you happy.”
Soft no means, “I’m not interested in dating more than one person, but it doesn’t bother me that I can’t be the only person in your life.”
Soft no means, “I don’t know how I feel about this, but I’m curious enough to see where it goes.”
I also consider soft no to mean, that Lauren and Carol are dating and Carol and Maria are dating and while Lauren and Maria aren’t interested in dating they are best friends who like to see Carol happy and who don’t mind getting platonic lunch every once and a while.
In the end, each character who is a soft no will approach it differently. Everyone has different boundaries. We have different personal rules and needs and priorities to achieve personal happiness. Depending on the experience their thoughts and views on the subject will change. Sometimes that “I’m curious” becomes “I like the way Poly fits and I feel better for it.” Sometimes “I’m not interested but I’m okay that you are” becomes “Oh no how did I not realize this was for me all along?” Sometimes things turn out bad. People try a poly ship for the wrong reasons or end up with people they don’t mesh with. Sometimes you try and the negative feelings are too much and you need to put yourself first and strike it back to Mono life.
Taking the chance of going through the Poly experience and coming out on the other end being sure that you’re Mono doesn’t have to be a bad thing; I want to stress that too.
In this game about relationships, I want it to be a learning experience. If the player doesn’t learn something about themselves, I want them to witness a character learning something about themselves.
Additionally, I want to include mechanics and dialogue options that allow the player to really express their needs and desires in a relationship. I want to stress good communication skills. I want you to be able to talk to those Soft No characters and work things out.
If working things out isn’t possible, the character will always be labeled as a Hard No. Even if they would be willing to try, their own needs are important too. I won’t try to mislead anyone by making people think a character can be pulled into a polyship if they really can’t.
A Quiet Respite 