hlh_shortcuts | Member Posts

Aly / Alyjude / Alyburns / Alyjude_Sideburns (depending on the era, fandom, or platform) died just after Christmas. She was a bright light in Sentinel fandom, with 181 stories written and posted.* Her most recent was a short story for 2025's Secret Santa. I beta'd it for her, and she was so pleased to be writing again -- on her phone, no less! Her love for Jim and Blair was immense, and the relationship she depicted between them shone from the pages. They had their ups and downs, just as in the source material, and some of her stories were very angsty indeed, but she always, always gave them a happy ending. (Well, almost always. There are a couple that are bittersweet.) I remember she once said, "Jim and Blair sing to me," and it showed in her work.

She also wrote a bunch of Stargate SG-1, and a few Stargate Atlantis. Unfortunately, in those days, I was so focused on the Sentinel fandom that I didn't notice her Stargate stories. Shame on me! (Of course, it didn't help that they were in a different archive; I may not even have known about them until she posted them at AO3; I've slept since then, and memory is hazy. Thank goodness for a central archive.) But I've since read a few, and her deft story-telling shows in those stories, too -- Jack-and-Daniel snark for the win! If anyone knows a Stargate comm where this information would be appropriate, feel free to link to this post.

Unfortunately, Aly's health in recent years was not good, but she never complained. She'd text something like, "Tired. Just got out of the hospital. I'll write tomorrow," and that would be all she'd say about it. Magician tells us more on Aly's Facebook page. Where it says "# friends posted on Aly's profile," click "See x more." Magician's post is under the name "Queenie Nln."

I'm going to miss her so much. In recent years, knowing she was confined to her home with only her cat for company, I made it a habit to email her several times a month, with jokes and pictures and little video clips that I found elsewhere on the net. At least two or three times a day, I find myself thinking, "Oh, gotta save that for Aly." No more.

Rest in peace, Aly. I'll remember you, and miss you.

--

About that * next to her story-count. Several years ago, I was going through Aly's stories on AO3, making sure that I had copies of each of them saved to my computer. (Yes, I hoard stories; I've seen too much disappear from the net, and I want everything in my hot little hand.) I discovered that I had a bunch of saved Aly stories that never made it to AO3. Several years before the "several years ago," a number of Aly's friends helped post her stories from the several sites they had been on, to AO3. I was part of the project, and it was... kind of hectic, to be honest; so much work to transfer. There were so many of us, sharing out files so that each person didn't have to post too many stories, that some obviously fell through the cracks.

Aly and I discussed it. She herself admits that punctuation in her early stories was eclectic; she was writing with feverish inspiration on Web TV -- no way to save her work for "later," or to have someone beta it. Basically she posted "live," as each story was written. Now, she had only her phone for editing and uploading. Ugh! We agreed that I'd do a beta pass on the stories, format them for AO3, then upload them with what I thought was appropriate summary and tags. Later, when she felt up to it, she would go in and make any additions / notes / changes she wanted.

So, I made a collection -- Alyjude's Rediscovered Sentinel Stories, and gleefully jumped in. I got 33 posted... and then got distracted by "stuff." (My niece moved with my help, my sis had a big project with my help, etc, etc, etc.) And Aly didn't push, or nag; she knew I'd do it eventually. But now I look at the last posting date, and it's coming up on two years. Shame on me! I've been meaning to post the rest of them -- about 20 more -- maybe in time for her birthday, but now it's too late for her to see them.

<sigh> Aly was excited to have her "lost" stories at AO3, and I want them available to old and new Sentinel fans; they're part of our shared fandom history. So, in Aly's memory, I will get the rest of her stories up before the end of the year. My health is pretty good, but... we just never know, do we?

I hope she'll look down and be pleased to see folks still enjoying her stories.

argentum_ls

It seems that I've been very negligent in posting about the stories for Highlander: the Agent.

Over the last year, we have been very busy and have managed to maintain a regular weekly posting. There's a lot to include here. All of these were written by

teratornis. But, don't worry, I have some stuff coming up.

Episode #3

People Like Us - 30,641 words - While investigating a string of murders in Louisiana, Matthew gets an unexpected opportunity to reconcile some more of the mistakes of his own past.

Extra

Call and Response - 2450 words - Matthew's encounter with ( Read more... )
in Louisiana left him with some unanswered questions. He thinks he knows where he might find the information he needs.

Episode #4

Interference - 27,311 words - Matthew and Talbot take on a case investigating a serial killer whose victims were all carrying swords at the times of their deaths. It should be the kind of case they're well prepared to handle, until an unexpected encounter proves just how dangerous this killer can be, even to an Immortal.

Extra

Conversations - 7000 words - In the wake of his abduction and subsequent rescue, Matthew has a needed but difficult conversation with Sam, and one with Talbot.

Episode #5

Come to Light - 31,758 words - A killer Matthew failed to stop decades ago resurfaces, and his secrecy regarding the depths of his connection to the investigation threatens his partnership with Talbot.

Extra

Equilibrium - WIP, part 1 of 2 posted - After witnessing ( Read more... )
, Talbot takes some time away to come to terms with what she's learned.

Episode #6

Small Town Mentality - WIP, part 1 of 8 posted - With Talbot on leave, Matthew travels on his own to assist with a months-old serial case in a small, insular town. As he digs deeper and the murderer accelerates, he's forced to confront his assumptions about who is a friend, and who is a foe.

senmut

I have caught up on my circle, but barely commented. Still digesting national news (rage) and unofficial anecdata via work (grief concerning mortality in children and this "cold" that seems to be nationwide).

That said, I will leave the comments open to anyone who wants to prompt me for a drabble in a fandom I know or for original concepts. I will, however, screen them.

Format something like "Fandom/Character(s)/Simple Prompt" or "Original Genre/Character Archetype(s)/Simple Prompt". Include your name on AO3, SquidgeWorld, Ad Astra, or CFFA if it is fannish and you want it gifted.

We Will Persevere.

mecurtin

His stretched-out left paw is fair warning that Purrcy's fluffy fluffy belly is indeed a trap, reach for it at your peril. But look at that innocent face!

Purrcy the tuxedo tabby lies flopped on his back on a blue patterned bedspread, his soft belly exposed, one paw looking super large from perspective as it reaches up gently toward the camera. His expression is open and innocent.

Purrcy the tuxedo tabby lies flopped on his back on a blue patterned bedspread, his soft belly exposed, one paw looking super large from perspective as it reaches up gently toward the camera. His expression is open and innocent.

Sometimes you have to prove love by squooshing someone's head, sometimes you have to do it by making someone squoosh your head. It's the 🎶Circle of Squoooosh🎶

Purrcy the tuxedo tabby is sitting up tall on the bed while a kind of wrinkled white hand squooshes his ears back. He looks ecstatic about this: his eyes are almost closed, his mouth is just a little open, his whiskers are fanned out in the sunlight. The Joy of Squoosh!

Purrcy the tuxedo tabby is sitting up tall on the bed while a kind of wrinkled white hand squooshes his ears back. He looks ecstatic about this: his eyes are almost closed, his mouth is just a little open, his whiskers are fanned out in the sunlight. The Joy of Squoosh!

My only resolution for 2026: I'm going to keep a list of books I read (only the ones I finish count). Re-reads count. I won't take time to rate, because then I'll slow down & give up on the list (per previous experience). My list on Bluesky starts here

#1. The Heist of Hollow London by Eddie Robson. Post-this-apoc heist, notable for most important relationship being between m & f BFFs. How often does *that* happen?!?

#2. Nine Goblins: A Tale of Low Fantasy and High Mischief, T. Kingfisher. Re-read of the version I have, which I assume is the same as the one coming out this year (??). An early T. Kingfisher, but sets up many of her familiar tropes: more than usually lively skeletons! bodies are full of fluids! never trust a unicorn! war is hell! Someone's got to make food, do laundry, plant things, pay attention to the livestock/children, that's the really *important* work. Never trust an officer. You know the drill.

#3. Ancillary Justice, Ann Leckie. Re^nth read, because last week I binged all the *other* Imperial Radch books. This time I made a point of paying attention to clues, and I think Anaander Mianaai is male-bodied, which isn't what I expected -- in the back of my mind, I though the translation convention reflected something about AM, which was then generalized to the rest of the Radch. But apparently not!

Having re-read them all so recently, I conclude this one isn't one of my favorites of the Imperial Radch books, because so much of it is about Seivarden -- who I can't help seeing as looking more or less like Spike with darker hair & skin, a classic fandom woobie wet cat who thinks he's better than you but is still a wet cat. When basically he's an *incredible* snob, and I hate people like & they can't stand me, either.

#4. Guns of the Dawn, Adrian Tchaikovsky. Tchaikovsky mentioned it on bluesky as a book he's especially proud of, I saw it got good reviews from people I respect, so I bit.

I couldn't completely suspend my disbelief because two things about the war kept making me go whut? whut?

First & most important: if your total war is pre-industrial, you don't mass conscript women for the front lines because you MUST keep them on the farms, size of your home-grow army is limited by number of people needed to raise food, which is at least half the population. If *all* the men are in army or dead the war is already lost, because the country is starving.

If your total war is industrial (WWI+ IRL), you mass conscript or re-purpose women for industry as well as farming, because each front-line soldier has to be supported by so much materiel & logistics.

Upon reflection, this is probably just a symptom of a general problem with books about the past: modern people have *no idea* how large a percentage of pre-modern populations worked in food production. *No idea*. Also in textile production!

The other thing that bugged me started when we learned more about how the war started. (ROT-13 spoilers begin) Gur Xvat bs Ynfpnaar unq gur ehyvat ahpyrne snzvyl bs Qraynaq xvyyrq naq gubhtug ur'q gnxr bire ... jvgubhg svefg yvavat hc fhccbegref sebz gur nevfgbpenpl bs Qraynaq? Ab-bar qbrf gung!

Naq vg vfa'g cbffvoyr sbe gurer gb or n Xvat bs Qraynaq jvgubhg n Qraynaq nevfgbpenpl/byvtnepul, jub qb lbh guvax vf *va* Cneyvnzrag? (let me know if there's a better way to do spoilers).

So I feel kind of like there are aspects of the world-building where I put my foot through the canvas scenery and had to hop around for a bit like that. But I can certainly see what people like about this, and elements that will later grow into more fully mature works: the Carboniferous Levant swamps, for instance, and the very Pratchettian soldiers. But for me it suffers from the feeling that it's a game setup more than a *world*.

nicky_gabriel

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

lessonsinescapology

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

tiny_ninja

♥ Edit and publish the Beauty & the Beast-inspired novella. I should have beta notes back for this one soon, and then I'll have an idea of how long it will take me to polish. It also needs a title... Shooting for late winter/early spring.

♥ Finish drafting and edit Haven's Point 3. I am so close to the end of Danger and Roxy's book, I can almost taste it.

♥ Finish drafting All My Exes Live in Texas. Do I think I can edit this one and publish it too? Probably not, but that's okay. I will settle for a finished draft and maybe start editing?

♥ Only write fics that bring me joy. Carrying this over from years past!

♥ Take care of yourself. Still don't have a new therapist, but appointments and shit are made, so that's a start, or whatever.

♥ GYWO goals. 300 days writing, with an unofficial goal of 200k words written, same as last year.

argentum_ls

And that's a wrap on another year of

hlh_shortcuts! This is my favorite exchange and the only one on my docket that's a "must do" every year.

This year, I wrote "Metaphorically Speaking" for

brightknightie.

Metaphorically Speaking - 3854 words - Richie & Angie - While enroute to start a new life, a roadside breakdown changes Richie’s plans.

As stories go, this is one of my odder ones ...( Read more... )

For my gift, I received: The Road Forward by havocthecat.

The Road Forward - 1193 words - Richie & Connor - On the cusp of the new millennium, Richie has been sent to New York for some training with Connor. But do you think these two are going to ignore a party this big? They're going to train. Really. Tomorrow.

This is a such a delightfully upbeat story, though it manages to weave in just enough melancholy that the optimism isn't immediately obvious. Richie and Connor celebrate the new millennium together (as they should, since of course the both survived to see it), and it's such a delight to see them meaningfully interact in a way that isn't about the Game. Since I was working with Richie and Angie in my own story, it was also wonderful to see another perspective on where they had ended up and why.

bearshorty

Book Meme 2025

I read 40 books this year, which is less than in the last few years. As I was reflecting on the books I read this year, I think part of it is that the books were just ok. There weren't really books that I loved a lot. I liked many of them - there are a lot of good and interesting books that I read, didn't like some, was disappointed in a few. Overall it was ok year but my reading is slowing down over the last few years.

( Book List 2025 )

( Book Meme )

Current Location: home

senmut

AO3 Link | In the Demon's Claws (2219 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Drizzt Do'Urden & Vierna Do'Urden
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Resurrection
Summary:

Things in the Hall went slightly different, but still Drizzt chooses the road, and learns of one more quest.

In the Demon's Claws

Drizzt Do'Urden gazed out over the lands, thinking about everything endured. If Regis had not escaped sooner — no, it didn't bear thinking about. What he knew had let them disarm the trap, though not without personal cost for Drizzt himself. He had caused his father's death, brought about the deaths of his House from afar, and now… personally slain his sister, both by dam and sire.

His only consolation had been seeing her less a zealot, more sane in her eyes even, as the light faded, letting him cast true blame upon Lloth once more. It had been Catti-brie who supposed the entire raid had been concocted as but one thread of a web, given how near it had been to losing Wulfgar to the yochlol, how strange that they had chosen to come for Drizzt inside the dwarven stronghold rather than upon the road some night when he would be alone.

Bruenor had thundered, and Wulfgar had pledged support, with Regis managing advice based on his studying Artemis Entreri while the human consorted with drow. Aid had come from the region, and it would be a long time before Menzoberranzan could stir from its cesspool of hate and anger.

Catti and Wulfgar needed to work upon their relationship. Regis still had much recovery to make from his ordeal. Bruenor had a much expanded clan to lead to prominence.

Drizzt?

He looked back to the road for salvation from that which ate at his soul. A passing remark from one of the Harpells had reminded him of unfinished business concerning a crystal… and a demon that had been defeated once.

There had never been any chance of an ending that led anywhere but to the Demonweb Pits, Vierna had known. Either she would arrive in favor, and become one of Lloth's own servitors in some form —

— or she would arrive in full disfavor to be tortured.

She had learned three things as she endured the torture, and then the bartering deal with the balor.

Her father was not in the Demonweb Pits. This had been clear while she was still tortured under the servants of Lolth. He would have been an instrument in those tortures, as she had, again, fallen into that strange emotion surrounding Zaknafein, on seeing how true to himself her brother had remained.

There was the fact that Lloth had never been worth her devotion. This point — she'd had sight of it in the fall of her House — had clarified when the religious madness fell from her eyes even as her brother was lowering her body to the floor. If she had only managed to learn it earlier, and used her power to protect the two males she'd felt strong emotions over!

And, somehow, this balor intended to use her against her brother. Errtu could not keep himself from alternately salivating over his plans against Drizzt Do'Urden or raging in a froth of madness over what the impertinent drow had done to him.

She would just have to help her brother beat the demon at his own game. Vierna was looking forward to his death at Drizzt's hands.

Drizzt's concerns about the demon had proven too correct. He finished cleaning Icingdeath, his mind turning over the words spit at him by the fiend before its death. The gloating, brash taunts of what Errtu meant to do with him — after Errtu finished rending the soul of one that Drizzt cared for — had been too in line with what he knew of the balors. They were incapable of getting over a defeat that had been meted out to them.

Only? Errtu had an advantage over him. The only person's soul that could possibly be at risk to the demon was his own father. Drizzt would no more leave the soul in peril than he ever would have risked the man in life, had he but been a little wiser.

He didn't dare not follow up on this, no matter the source. Since Drizzt had left Mithral Hall, burdened by the suffering, deaths, and his own actions, he'd been seeking a purpose. He would recover the damnable crystal, and trek to a land known to hold the knowledge of the ages. Surely he could learn what was needed to save his father and destroy both threats if he but tried hard enough.

With resolve etched in every line of his body and soul, Drizzt plunged into the frozen north once more, intent on his goals.

The Crystal Shard couldn't be tricked by Drizzt. Nor could it offer him what he wanted, not in a way that ever tempted the drow. The psychic effect of merely carrying it in a quiescent state was enough to make Drizzt constantly question his own mind as he traveled. Guen, on her visits to the Material Plane, also kept a watchful eye on him.

It was a necessary evil, bait for the demon that was seeking vengeance. After the not-so-minor trouble of getting back to it, finding it, Drizzt was just as relieved to find his next destination after a stop in Longsaddle. He'd kept the artifact's presence carefully hidden, indulged Harpell curiosity as some were in residence now that he had not met before.

"If you're dead set against leaning into the alliances you've made in Silverymoon," Bella began, the brighter eye rolling with what she thought of that and the dull one fixed on him, "you need to head for Tethyr, a small kingdom down there with a cathedral being built.

"The priest of Deneir, Chosen they say, will point you to the knowledge you need to deal with this demon you need to be rid of."

"It seems I should see if Captain Deudermont will aid me in my journeys, then," Drizzt said, not keen on going so far south once again, but he was no priest nor wizard, to be able to banish the demon for good… and with luck, this cleric might well know how to rid the realms of the Crystal Shard.

With the right tools, Drizzt Do'Urden would be willing to wager against the evil ones, and try to reclaim his father's soul from the Abyss.

"You could become a cleric of sufficient rank in the decades you have left. Or a wizard of strength," Cadderly mused at Drizzt, even as the wizened Chosen walked beside Drizzt in the garden, aware that Pikel and Ivan both were still keeping an eye on the solitary drow.

"They say time stretches in the Abyss, and I feel that taking the time to do so would further torment the one I seek to rescue. Likewise, I will make no bargain with a Power to become a warlock."

Cadderly looked at Drizzt then, leaning on his staff as they paused. "And yet you refuse your goddess Her offer?"

Drizzt flushed, looking down, and Cadderly knew the ranger had not expected that to be known. When he looked up, it was with an expression of sadness. "She has been good to me, and I will serve Her so long as She walks the path I view as right.

"But I do not trust myself with a spark of who She is."

"Which is of course why She would most want it to be you, for that very distrust, but. You have closed that door — for now — and having a pressing need to save one you care for. The vile artifact's destruction is what you seek, but not before you are able to barter with and defeat the balor.

"A complicated task you have set yourself, but I will set people to the research of it."

"Thank you; it is all I can ask."

Vierna felt something change in her captor. He was eager, close to success of some kind? She felt weaker than she had even in the moments after Lloth forsook the House. How could she aid her brother like this?

When the demon back-handed her for daring to spit in his direction, she lolled in her bonds, feigning unconsciousness and made the choice to reach out to a different power. Never again would she submit to the divine… but bargain with one? That she could — and would! — manage.

~Vhaeraun son of Araushnee and Corellon, god of drow,~ she prayed, all of her singular focus on inviting the Named One to take notice of her. Even now, out of favor and having renounced her former goddess, the names burned in her mind, invoking pain.

Pain that she further used to fuel her call to the one that could make her plans work — she would not fail! Her brother, the boy she had taught and raised, needed her, and this time, she was embracing that.

Little did she know that her very need to aid a male sibling was the right spark to bring the god's attention to her.

"As long as your darkness holds," Danica coached, "the thing will be destroyed."

Drizzt looked past her to the rather unassuming man with them, very little giving away his draconic nature.

"And Icingdeath will guard me from the flames," he reminded himself.

"Yes, a superb frostbrand," Vaeros said, having inspected the magic on the blade to be certain.

"The breach of magic has made it possible for the balor to come to a simple summoning," Drizzt recited. "I will offer the artifact, and then we will be 'attacked', at which point the crystal will burn while I hold darkness — and evade the enraged demon while protecting my father."

"Presuming that the captive is brought, and that it is your father," Danica agreed. "Should be simple for the drow that decimated Menzoberranzan's might."

Drizzt stared at her, then saw the twitch of her lips, and gave into the laughter at that outrageous elaboration of his part in the war of Mithral Hall.

"We will do this, Ranger, on our shared love of the Wilds," Vaeros said, once the laughter had worn off, with the effect of living Drizzt lighter in spirit.

"So we shall."

It was not Zaknafein.

That small fact half-broke Drizzt's willpower at first. He wanted to angrily decry that he didn't care about Vierna.

His heart knew that for a lie.

She looked mangled in the grasp of the demon, and trickles of blood had formed where the clawed hand pierced flesh.

She was conscious, and her eyes locked on his.

Distantly, he could remember the plan even as the sealed case with Crenshinibon hung from an outstretched hand, the demon gloating within the summoning circle.

His mind toured over early, harsh lessons. He recalled the gentle touches that had been rare and treasured. He remembered that someone had to have told Zaknafein of his speed and skill with both hands. He recalled the look of sanity in her eyes, at the end of her life, blood spilling from a wound he'd made in her.

Something in her eyes told him she trusted him, and that she was ready for whatever came next.

"Let her go, and you can have what you want."

"You think I am unaware of the treachery lurking in your soul, drow?" Errtu demanded, hand closing more —

— and Vierna uttered a quick phrase in formal drow, one that called upon Vhaeraun, god of the male drow. The next moment, she was small, transformed into a bat that eluded the demon's grasp, fluttering valiantly into the hood of the cloak Drizzt wore.

He prayed that was enough to protect her, as he gave himself over to the Hunter, Icingdeath more than eager to drink the blood of this balor once more. Errtu had no chance to evade, or even dispel the darkness, as Drizzt furiously fought for his life, the crystal's end, and for the daughter of his father.

Vierna awakened at the feeling of healing being pushed into her, the kind that traced fire in her veins, counter to her very nature but helping abate the last tortures' marks upon her.

She found herself looking into the purple eyes that had entranced her since his birth.

"We're in a small cave. I didn't want to impose on my allies," he told her softly. "You turned back to drow after the fight ended."

"I did not ask for it to be a permanent change," Vierna said, but she reached for his hand on her shoulder. "You can heal?"

"If my patron agrees, yes," he said, taking her hand and shifting so he could sit more comfortably and hold it. "Vhaeraun?"

"I promised Him I would become a potent cleric for Him, if He let me aid my troublesome little brother against the balor."

Her smile on those words provoked one from him.

"I thought it was my — our father."

"And yet, you still pushed through with the plan you had made." She squeezed his hand. "We will have peace, Drizzt. I swear it on my continued life."

He contemplated her words a long moment, then laid down on the bedroll, sliding an arm under her neck, tucking close to give her the warmth he had.

"Good. There's been enough strife for us both, I think."

She closed her eyes, shifting a little to be comfortable, and decided that he was still strange to her.

But she had become something different and wanted to embrace the strangeness with him.

teratornis

hlh_shortcuts has concluded for the year, and everyone's stories are live and no longer anonymous. This is my third time participating, and it was, as has been the case for me the past couple of years, a ton of fun. It's always exciting to see what people request, and what people come up with to write.( Read more... )

Had an excellent time with this event this year. As always, looking forward to the next one. ❤️

Current Music: Albion - Syr

annavere

I've been hearing about the AO3 art scam comments, and I always figured if I got one it would be for my Teen Wolf saga, because that's a big fandom it would make sense to target.

I did not think it would be for my TINY DEAD FANDOM story, right on the heels of finally fixing the html and posting chapter four.

Registered user with nothing on their page, joined the site today. Kudosed the fic, too.

Can someone with greater fandom knowledge advise me on what I'm supposed to do?

hafital

Happy

hlh_shortcuts reveal day! It was actually yesterday but I was out of the house and away from my phone the entire day.

This year, I wrote for

raine, which was a delight but also a challenge because Raine_Wynd has betaed for me for the last several years. :D

Follow The Gleam (21043 words) by hafital
Chapters: 12/12
Fandom: Highlander: The Series
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ceirdwyn (Highlander) & Matthew McCormick
Characters: Ceirdwyn (Highlander), Matthew McCormick, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Weird Immortal Happenings, Canon-Typical Violence, Historical Inaccuracy, K'Immie of the week, Literary References & Allusions
Summary:

"You are Matthew of Salisbury, and you are an Immortal."

* * *

The story of how Matthew and Ceirdwyn met.

( Some story writing notes below the cut )

annavere

As seen from *checks list*

brightknightie,

teratornis,

argentum_ls, and

rhi.

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Turn to page 126.
3. The 6th full sentence is your life in 2026

The nearest book on my nightstand was The Code of the Woosters, which seemed unlikely to deliver the Cassandra goods—but that being the assignment, I located the page in question, began counting down the highly detailed, robustly elegant Wodehouse sentences, each describing ridiculously specific situations and spirits, only to land on the instructed sixth full sentence (by this point halfway down the page), read it, and promptly started recounting.

There was no mistake. Here is the sentence:

"It was the same with me."

This genuinely made me laugh. I'll take the black comedy aspect of all of this. Not like it's telling me something I couldn't have guessed!

brightknightie

Picked up from

argentum_ls:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Turn to page 126.
3. The 6th full sentence is your life in 2026.

"Of course there'll be a lot of people." -- All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot (1972)

teratornis

Seen done by both

rhi and

argentum_ls.

01. Grab the nearest book.
02. Turn to page 126
03. The 6th full sentence is your life in 2026.

I'll be honest I mostly did this because I knew my D&D books were the closest to me. So from D&D 3rd Edition's Complete Arcane: A Player's Guide to Arcane Magic for All Classes:

"However, if the subject gains at least as many negative levels as it has Hit Dice, it dies."

. . . Cheery.

(From the lvl 7 spell Sword of Darkness.)

Current Music: Leverage: The First David Job

argentum_ls

Borrowed from

rhi

01. Grab the nearest book.
02. Turn to page 126
03. The 6th full sentence is your life in 2026.

From Guilty by Definition by Susie Dent ...

"Yeah, but—"

annavere

Write a love letter to fandom. It might be to fandom in general, to a particular fandom, favourite character, anything at all.

I already wrote an unprompted love letter to fandom on the first, so technically I already did this challenge in its purest form this very week and I'm gonna coast.

malinaldarose

Snowflake Challenge #3

Write a love letter to fandom. It might be to fandom in general, to a particular fandom, favourite character, anything at all.

( Read more... )

Current Mood: nostalgic

brightknightie

Over the weekend, I finished all of the spirit-orb-bearing shrines in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (120 base game, 4 DLC).

When I had Link bring the final four orbs to a statue of the goddess Hylia, I knew it was the last time. I knew that you can't have both full stamina and full life, and that there are no more spirit orbs. Yet I didn't have a clue that Hylia, speaking to her chosen hero's spirit in his heart at a site of her worship, would finally, finally, finally address him by name. Not, "You who have conquered the shrines and claimed their spirit orbs" but "Link."

Oh! ♥ I have wondered about that. The fansites I'd consulted in the past listed only the usual response, not this very last response, with its tiny but profound difference. What a rich point for interpretation! It's something about having completely recovered his power, his spirit, that makes her use his name at last. It might be that Hylia actually didn't fully recognize or acknowledge this Link until he repossessed all of the hero's spirit. But I think I'd prefer to believe that she knew him and was waiting until he knew himself, as of course he begins the game fully amnesiac. (Or of course, in reality, it's the most mundane explanation of all, and the dialogue writer/translator for this last bit, or for the DLC if that's what made the difference, was different, and the editor didn't catch the discrepancy. That would seem to be how we get the variation between "Goddess Hylia" and "the goddess Hylia" from the monks, for example.)

Neat!