Showing posts from March, 2021


I'm having a pretty good time figuring out where Pietro is going. In reading this, you know as much as I do: I learned to swim in the ocean. I jumped off of high cliffs into its depths, challenged my friends to distance swims, went on fishing trips with my father at all manners of the day and night in search of various catches. What I’d never done was pay for passage in coin, expected to sit out of the way and keep my hands to myself. It was a relief to come to dock after four days of twiddling my thumbs, watching new sailors learn knots I’d teethed on, and hearing the snap of unsecured canvas and being shooed away so it could be handled by the sailors. They were plenty good at their jobs, but I’d never learned how to sit idle and I wasn’t sure I’d ever learn to like it, sign of luxury it might be. I had Viola’s mother’s bag slung over my shoulder when I descended the gangway. It had plenty of room still in it, but she insisted it was good luck. Judging by the various repairs f

Venice Anew

I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the warm and salty air, raising closed eyes to the sunlight and imagining it filling the aching hole in my chest. I glanced backward and saw no one. With only the slightest hesitation, I started in the direction of my house. I didn’t walk quickly, but kept my hands in my pockets and my head down. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. At the corner, I glanced down my cobbled street. My blue door was closed and I didn’t see anyone guarding the portal. I continued my nonchalant pace and stepped inside quickly to close the door with barely a sound. I waited, listened. Satisfied I was alone, I took the stairs two at a time and entered my bedroom. The body had been removed but the blood remained. I picked up my discarded chair and righted it against the wall in the farthest corner and stepped onto the frame. My questing fingers found the loose board and I took down the thin leather folder hidden there, knocking the dust off against my leg. I righte


Random idea: In a land of magicians who can choose to take familiars, some might not for various reasons. There are a couple of people (secretly) capable of taking humans as familiars, which is obviously super taboo. Familiars gain bits of humanity from their humans, humans gain animalistic abilities from their animals, but since humans are so much more complex, it could be that a person wouldn't be entirely aware of this connection. They'd be able to use it if they were aware of it, of course, but that's the problem. Could be super spooky. Also, add to my list if you'd like Types of magic: Shadow Nature Blood/sacrifice Sex Tattoo Elemental I'd like to build a world in which various sorts of magics exist. It'll be more complex for me, but I love magic systems so much. It'd be fun. Still need a plot, of course... BAH!

Let People Enjoy Things. Sometimes.

I recently read a wholesome post about a woman getting her hearing for the first time and the boyfriend stayed silent while she wept over hearing her mother's voice for the first time, etc. and then he leaned in close and asked her to marry him. Mm. Okay. I pointed out some issues with this and agreed that it was a nice story, but likely not true. No, I didn't need to do that. I could have moved on and ignored it and I didn't. So someone told me to "let nice stories exist". You hear it a lot: "let people enjoy things". I am a big believer in this. I say it all the time when people hate on stuff, and I've been accused of not allowing it when someone misinterprets a question I pose and we have to have a whole debate blah, blah, blah, but here's the thing: No. Not everything should be allowed to exist unquestioned. There are some things, like the post I mention above, that are actively harmful and spread misinformation. Cochlear implants are amazing

Compliments (TW: pain)

I used to think it was something of which I should be proud: high pain tolerance. “You have such high pain tolerance!” “That doesn’t hurt? WOW!” People were impressed, and I liked feeling impressive. I leaned into it. I let people give me Indian burns at recess for a quarter on the promise that I wouldn’t even flinch, no matter how strong they thought they were. But the thing is, it does hurt. It always hurts. You just have a higher tolerance . Without fail, those other people that I bring it up with have some story, usually several, or a lifetime of stories in which they were forced to deal with their pain for some reason or another. They had to learn to live with it. With pain. Literally the thing our bodies are designed to avoid, are trying at every opportunity to avoid (with notable exceptions, call down masochists, I love you). Chronic pain is something that you have to learn to live with. There are things that help, but nothing eliminates some pains. Some pains are just t

Pain (On Purpose) TW: Pain

It hurt. It hurt so bad. I let out a slow breath and remained as still as I could, kept my leg relaxed even as the piercing whine increased and the needling went deeper. I turned my attention to the book I had in-hand, though it couldn't keep my attention. Music pumped into my ears, though it couldn't block out the sensation drilling through my bones, rattling my organs every time it started, stopped, started again. I looked up at my torturer and grinned, popped out my earbud. She paused and grinned back. "Just about done. You doing okay?" I nodded. "Oh yeah. Endorphins are flowing." She bent back over the work and I let out another slow breath as she dug back in, depositing color in careful lines.  Finished, she wiped up the remaining blood and ink and admired her work. "What do you think?" she asked, stepping around to gather her finishing supplies. I looked at the design and nodded. "Fantastic. Thank you!" "Any time. Next time, to