Anonymous asked: I love your writing a lot, esp your original writing. Could you tell us about your current novel? The 'earth is where trouble comes from' one? Pretty pretty please?

OH MY GOD ANON YES I WILL.

Okay, so you might know how at the end of every third YA book where there’s a trip to another world and a prophecy and magic and world-saving, the protagonist gets popped back into their life on Earth all “Welp, good to have you here, kid, have fun with your nice Life Lessons and PTSD and what-not, about your business.”  Like, Narnia, for example.  I had a lot of issues with Narnia and the whole “You’re too old now, you can never come back, leave and go live out your life and forget about magic and wonder and miracles” shtick when I read it as a little kid.  Yeah, this novel is the product of maybe twelve years of stewing over that kind of ending.

So, this book, which I’m currently just calling Alleirat, is about the hero of one of those novels and the villain of one of those novels, once they’ve grown up to twenty-somethings.  

The general plot of the YA novel (which won’t be written, it’s the backstory) was that a ten-year-old girl and boy both fell through a thin spot between worlds to Alleirat, where magic is the norm and there’s a standing prophecy someone got off a ghost a long time ago about a worldwalker who will save them from a great evil.  Since they manage to fall through to a time where sexism is kind of A Thing, they leave the girl, who takes the name Brenneth and has an ability for fire magic, to be raised as a blacksmith, and take the boy, Crispin, with an ability for weather magic, to be trained as a hero–and spend the next ten years telling Crispin that it’s his destiny to save them all.  Crispin, unsurprisingly, snaps, when he’s twenty years old.  He suffers a nervous breakdown, and the logic he follows is that, in order to save everyone, he needs to be in control, and he consequently sets out to take over the world.  Which goes over great–so great, in fact, that he’s given the nickname the White Wolf (their society associates white with death and wolves with evil/hunger/rage).  Increasingly desperate to stop him, the Alleirai leaders call on Crispin’s oldest friend Brenneth to fight for them, and she agrees.  About four years (and one sword through the chest very narrowly survived Because Magic) later she manages to stop Crispin (and also cuts off his arm, which he understandably takes personally).

And then…they get popped back into their ten-year-old, perfectly intact bodies on Earth.  No destiny.  No magic.  No one who understands why these two kids who were perfectly normal an hour ago suddenly act like soldiers fresh off the battlefield, jumping at every loud noise and picking fights and waking up from screaming nightmares.  Except each other.

Fast forward fourteen years (take two, On Earth Version) and we’re at the start of the novel.  Brenneth and Crispin have a very strange relationship, the sort of relationship you might expect from two people who have transitioned from friends, to close friends, to mortal enemies, to calling each other just to listen to someone scream at them in Alleirai, to drinking weekly and talking about how much they hate being stuck on Earth.  They have Issues, is the point here, and the primary life lesson they took away from their time in Alleirat is “magic is great, and just because you were born on one planet doesn’t make it your home.”  So, naturally, they fall through to Alleirat again.

Which is great.

Except for the fact that, in order:

  1. Crispin is probably going to be executed for his crimes, which he understands but Brenneth is Not Okay with (and willing to take a stand against)
  2. It’s been four centuries since they left
  3. Brenneth is highly uneasy with having gone down in history as a hero of legend
  4. It’s been four centuries and everyone they knew is consequently dead
  5. They’ve come back just in time to deal with another worldwalker fucking shit up, this time with death magic (necromancy, woo! *throws flowers*)
  6. It’s been FOUR CENTURIES and they’re officially in history books and constellations

Now, the reason that Earth Is The Problem Planet, is that, basically, there are hundreds or thousands of worlds (the Alleirai know this for sure) and they all intersect at Earth.  The problems with this are that, A, Earth is the only world without magic (since all the other worlds basically cancel it out) and therefore a lot of people on Earth have truly massive magical potential built up over the millennia, which turns terrifying once they can actually use it (Crispin figured out how to fly using weather magic, and Brenneth can cast unquenchable dragon fire), and, B, people from Earth keep falling through the cracks.  Since they’re distributed across all these worlds, Alleirat can and has gone several centuries without one, but they’re also common enough that Alleirat does have a word specifically for them.  And they usually cause trouble, because it’s always the ones with strong magic who fall through.

So yeah, that’s basically the novel.

Some other things I find to be highlights:

  • Alleirat has actual high fantasy diversity!  The mountainous Northern part of the continent has fair-skinned folk, whereas Brenneth (whose family is from southern India) looks more like the people from the fertile Southern plains, closer to the equator of the planet.  The Outrigger Islands scattered around the south and east/west tend to have skin tones ranging between maybe Morocco and Nubia, depending on how far from the midline of the planet they are.
  • Alleirat, having been schooled by Brenneth last time, now has a warrior/civilian divide rather than our masculine/feminine divide (it looks similar, though, because Humans Are Problematic).  This manifests itself most intensely in a distinction in dress.  Civilians are expected to dress more modestly, whereas any gender of warrior is accepted to be shirtless pretty much whenever.  Hair length is also considered to be more of a marker of social rank than skin tone–long hair equates to higher status, shorter hair means you work as a laborer or another low-status job (this has been a thing for a long while, though, since before Crispin and Brenneth).
  • Alleirat has dragons (crafted and blessed by the god of fire, battle, and lies, of whom Brenneth is a devotee) and griffins (crafted and blessed by the goddess of stars, storms, and fallen things, of whom Crispin is a devotee).  Dragons breathe unquenchable magical fire, and griffins can send lightning along their wings.  I think they’re pretty cool.
  • Alleirat has an arrangement called amuniasa, which is an unrequited or courtly love arrangement, as an accepted part of society.  The amdri, or the lover, tells the object of their feelings how they feel, and that person can either accept a romantic/sexual relationship or proclaim themselves amiasa, or the beloved, indicating that they don’t return the feelings, but recognize the honor they are being given.  It’s very poor form to pressure your amiasa into returning your feelings, and likewise it’s very poor form to lead your amdri on–your window to change your mind is limited.  Amuniasa is generally considered to be about as binding as marriage, although plenty of amdri also have a spouse whom they love sincerely–basically, polyamory.  Example: Brenneth’s right-hand woman last time around was her amdri, although her feelings were completely committed to Brenneth and she never took a spouse.  Also, she has a daughter that joins Crispin and Brenneth this time (their specific race is incredibly long-lived) whose coloring suggests that she specifically took a lover who looked like Brenneth.
  • Brenneth is pretty much the beauty standard these days (they take their heroes of legend seriously in Alleirat), meaning that they revere women with lush black hair, broad shoulders, and dark skin.  I dunno, it felt right at the time that I made that decision.
  • The primary port city on the East, Dase, has a port that is literally carved straight into a four-hundred-foot cliff face.  Like.  The city is on top of the harbor.  I stole this from the D&D campaign I ran last semester, but I did invent it in the first place for a completely different novel that will never be finished, so.  It’s not plagarism because I wrote it, basically.
  • I am literally creating a language for this bullshit universe that has taken over my life.  I am ilala–an idiot.

Anonymous asked: Our dog ran away today because my brother and his best friend accidentally let her out and started chasing her and I have spent 8 hours looking for her and now it is dark and I don't know what to do.

Oh, honey, I’m not going to lie, that sounds absolutely awful.  I’m so sorry this is happening, and I wish I could tell you that there’s some miracle secret to fixing this.  Hell, I wish I could come and fix it myself.  As it is, all I can tell you is that this too shall pass, one way or another, and that you’ll survive, and offer a few pieces of advice that you might/might not have tried already.

  • Contact all your local animal shelters, give them a description of your dog and her name, and then ask them to call you if a dog matching that description comes in.  Visit them in person, if you can, and check back frequently.  If you don’t have a shelter nearby, try contacting the police department.
  • Post notices in grocery stores, community centers, etc.  I’d focus on areas where pet owners tend to be common, such as pet stores and the vet’s office, because another pet owner is more likely to come through for you.  
  • If you decide to post a reward, be cautious of people who report in just in hopes of getting the reward.  I’d suggest leaving out one distinguishing feature about your dog (if possible–my black Lab, for example, is just…black, not a lot of distinguishing features to speak of) and then asking the people who claim they have her to describe her in detail.

And most of all, don’t give up hope, all right, sweetie?  Pets have been found after months.  I hope this pans out well for you, baby, keep me posted and let me know if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, okay?

Anonymous asked: Seriously Moana is my most favorite movie of this year. I loved Rogue One but there is something about watching a little girl jump up and down because "she looks like me" not only was it just amazing in general, it had an awesome message and casting

Okay, honey, not gonna lie, Moana watered my crops, cleared my skin, cured my depression, and gave me hope and faith in humanity again.  Like.

Look at this.

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Originally posted by iammoana

This movie is a gift.

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Originally posted by englishrosexs

I feel so undeserving.

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Originally posted by not-equal-with-myself

THIS MOVIE IS ONE OF THE GREATEST THINGS HUMANITY HAS EVER CREATED.

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Originally posted by moana-disney-movie

Good job, everybody.  Good job on this.

Anonymous asked: Can we talk about K-2SO OMG he is such a precious child and he is so rude and I love him

MY DEAR ASSHOLE ROBOT.

So here’s something K-2SO has never told Cassian: he remembers part of his time as an Imperial droid.  Not much–certainly not enough to know what to tell a Stormtrooper where he’s taking some prisoners, thank you, Cassian.  Just a few minutes, prior to the reboot.

He remembers [IDENTIFY: SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE] ticking over his visual scanner.  He remembers [COMMAND: ELIMINATE], and advancing on the organic in the overlarge coat.  He remembers the organic–[IDENTIFY: MALE, HUMANOID, YOUNG]–pressing his lips together and taking aim with a blaster.

He remembers cold.

Which is stupid, of course, droids don’t feel cold, K-2 is designed to survive the vacuum of space.

But still.

The next thing he remembers is powering on, and wondering why he was on the ground.  And then, of course, he ran a full-system diagnostic because if there’s one thing Imperial droids aren’t meant to do, it’s wonder, so clearly there’s a glitch in his programming.

The diagnostic returned a report that all systems had been set to full default.  K-2SO lay perfectly still and issued a command to his circuits. [IDENTIFY: BASE COMMAND STRUCTURE.]

The code was still chasing itself in circles in an ineffective system search when the organic gave him a gentle prod with his boot.

[IDENTIFY: SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE], his system reported.

[YES, THANK YOU], K-2SO thought.  Thought.  He was pretty sure that was a glitch too.  The lack of memory base and base command set were definitely glitches.  He should report himself for decommissioning.

“Hey!” the organic hissed.  

“You have reprogrammed me,” K-2SO deduced slowly–slowly for a droid, which means that the organic probably thought he’d done it instantaneously.

“Yeah, so don’t shoot me for it.  Can you get me into the hangar?”

“Why should I?” K-2SO asked, flat, and the organic blined at him for a long moment before he bared his teeth.  

[IDENTIFY: MAMMALIAN PLEASURE RESPONSE], his system chirped.  

[PLEASE BE QUIET, I AM THINKING], K-2SO said, and he liked this thinking thing.  He also liked this liking-things thing.  He didn’t want to be decommissioned, and wasn’t that a major system failure.

“How about ‘because in the Rebel Alliance we don’t decommission mouthy droids’?”

[PROBABILITY OF DECOMMISSIONING: 98.97%] K-2SO’s system reported clinically.  

[SILENCE], he ordered.

“You shot me,” K-2SO observed, pulling himself upright.  The organic was still baring his teeth–grinning.

“Yeah, but you were going to kill me,” he said with a sharp accent.  “I’m Cassian.”

[IDENTIFY: ANDOR, CASSIAN; SPY, REBEL ALLIANCE; NUMBER EIGHT MOST WANTED–]

[S T O P]  His system finally stopped chattering, and something in his coding gave an almost audible crack as it snapped.

“Why would you tell me that?”

“Because you’ve already decided to help me.”  Cassian was grinning, grinning, and K-2SO was annoyed to find that he was right.  “What’s your designation?”

“K-2SO,” he said.  “And there is an 82.4% chance of our capture and mutual decommissioning.”  If he had been organic, he would have stuttered–he did not plan to say that.  Apparently that crack was the filter coding between his analytic systems and his vocoder.

Cassian shook his head.  “I don’t want to know, K-2.  Come on.”

Anonymous asked: BODHI MY BABY OH THAT BEAUTIFUL MARSHMALLOW

BODHI MY CHILD, OH MY GOD, MY POOR BRAVE BOY.

I just, okay, so, Bodhi is the messenger, right, that’s his WHOLE JOB.  And he spends the entire movie trying to get a message to the Rebellion and be believed.  And at first he’s grabbed by Saw’s people, and they don’t really believe him and they’re not really the Rebellion.  And then he’s jailbroken and kidnapped by Cassian (Rogue One is basically just a bunch of people Cassian Andor kidnapped), and he gets to the Rebellion but they don’t believe him–or at least not enough of them.

And then, God, and then he’s down on Scarif and he finally gets through.  It costs so many lives, so many ships, but he gets his message to the Rebellion and they hear him and believe him.  There’s someone up there.  There’s someone listening.  Bodhi the messenger has finally delivered his message.

And he smiles as he dies.

Anonymous asked: IT WAS SCREAMING SEEKING SCREAMING AND I THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME, SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE THIS MAN A NICE THING. also MAN chirrut and baze and the different things they judge people on, the different influences that shape who they can consider 'good', BAZE TAKING DARKNESS INTO HIMSELF TO SPARE CHIRRUT, JUST FUCK ME UP I WASN'T THINKING ABOUT THAT BEFORE AND NOW I CAN'T STOP

I’M GLAD MY DUDE BECAUSE IT’S ALL I’VE BEEN ABLE TO THINK ABOUT FOR LIKE THE BEST PART OF THREE HOURS NOW.

GOTTA SHARE THE PAIN.

Anonymous asked: HE HAS A FACE LIKE A FRIEND

First off, I love how obscure this is.  Like, is this a prompt?  Is this a request for meta?  Is this just screaming?  Who knows!

But I’m just gonna assume it’s screaming, seeking screaming, mostly because I have to get a couple things off my chest.

*deep breath*

OKAY SO, Chirrut’s comment about the Force moving darkly around someone who’s about to kill, HERE IS MY QUESTION.  Chirrut whackin’ people with his stick looks pretty nonlethal–painful, certainly, but mostly not going to kill you.  (The bowcaster thing will kill you, and Chirrut will kill you, but the stick won’t kill you.)  On the other hand, you have Murder Master Baze, basically holding his own version of the Space OK Corral wherever he decides to open fire.

So does the Force move darkly around Baze?  Do long strips of thick, sticky darkness cling to him, where he used to glow bright with faith?  Does he do the bulk of the killing to protect Chirrut’s soul from them?

AND ALSO.  Cassian, God, Cassian Andor lives so much in the desperate need to know that his terrible deeds, all the things he wishes he could forget, are what the cause needs.  He has to know that his Rebellion needs him and needs his ruthlessness in order to absolve himself.

How much would it have meant to him, to have someone tell him outright that he doesn’t have the face of a killer?  How much would it have meant to him to know that even to these monks, he has the face of a friend?

Anonymous asked: The bar for 2017 is set so low a small person would lose limbo trying to go under it

My dude, forget limbo.  The bar for 2017 is on the floor of the sub-basement.  You need a backhoe to limbo under that shit.

Anonymous asked: Sooooo, for the sake of pain, can I have a Nat/Clint fic for the OTP song thing for "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park

*cackling* All right, let’s play.  Trigger warning for…Red Room shit.  There’s more of this story, of course, after the events of the last scene, but I felt like this was a good place to end it.

Bring me home in a blinding dream,
Through the secrets that I have seen
Wash the sorrow from off my skin
And show me how to be whole again

‘Cause I’m only a crack in this castle of glass
Hardly anything there for you to see

She is very small when she learns what they mean, the words inscribed over the curve of her hipbone.  Not the words themselves—they’re not Russian, not even the right alphabet, her parents say they’re French and she wonders what it means.  But they are her soulmate, her parents say.  Someday, somewhere, someone will say them to her, and that will be the person the universe has created just for her.

She smiled and traces her fingers over the words, over and over, and wonders who it will be.

And then her life catches fire and burns to ash, and she is taken away by a tall man with a solemn face, and given a new name.

Natalia grows up, and learns, and fights, and bleeds.  

Keep reading

Anonymous asked: Seriously fuck 2016... it took the "can this year get any worse?" and ran away with it like an egg-suckin dawg.

EVERY PART OF THIS YEAR HAS BEEN FOR SHIT.

@2017, IF WE DON’T DESCEND INTO WORLD WAR III, YOU’LL BE PASSING THE BAR.

GET FUCKED 2016.

Originally posted by tum-binha