Snippet Saturday [2]

Snippet Saturday [2]

From: The Moon, Wolf, and Rabbit

It didn’t seem as if time was even moving inside of the Tsumi’s study, Cassie—after finding nothing of note in the room—asked him something.

“How long have we been in here?”

“Probably a few hours by now. I’m sure it’s nighttime.”

Cassie sighed. “Then I guess I need to head home. I don’t want my parents worrying something happened.” Cassie paused. “Speaking of that, what about you? Didn’t you have work today?”

“I did, but I actually quit.”

“What? Why?”

“Would you really want some deity checking out a book for you?”

“I would assume I wouldn’t know.”

Tsumi chuckled. “I’m kidding. I really quit because there’s no need for me to work a job anymore.”

“What about food or money? How are you gonna do anything anymore?”

He smiled. “I know you have to get home, but mind if I show you one last thing?”

She shrugged. “I guess, what is it?”

“The answer to your question.”

He took her hand and even though Cassie wasn’t sure why he kept doing that, she made no effort to tell him to stop. She was guided to the strange door she noticed when they arrived. Thinking it was decorative, she ignored it; but Tsumi brought her to the door and opened it.

If Cassie could explain what she expected to see, it wouldn’t have been anything like the sight before her. Not even in the shows she indulged herself in had a location quite like this one. It was an ambient room with soft lighting from a moon lamp hanging from the ceiling. The roof of the large room had other astrological figures; the one she recognized was the Libra symbol.

As they went further into the room, what appeared to be star dust filtered through the air. In the large room there was a couch with a big table right in front of it, along with a few items scattered on the table the room appeared immensely cozy. Above them was a short staircase that seemed to lead to a nook Cassie couldn’t see all the way inside.

Her amazement got the better of her and she once more took in the room, losing herself in its appearance. Tsumi watched her like he did before finding her interest entertaining to watch.

“This place is apparently where I lived at one point. I believe you and the mysterious boy we have yet to meet may also have something like this.”

Cassie scoffed. “Like a family home or something?” She mumbled to herself. “I can’t believe that. Why wouldn’t my family know about it?”

“Like I said, we’re not actually blood related to our past selves. As far as I found, my past self didn’t have children.”

“Then maybe someone in my past did. It just doesn’t make much sense that we’re related to our past selves, but we’re actually them. Almost like some kind of broken reincarnation.”

“Or a rewrite?”

She looked at Tsumi’s, taking in his point. “Yeah, that is the only way this would make sense.”

“If that is the case, then it makes sense why my past self felt I was different. That things would turn out differently.”

Cassie crossed her arms. “I still can’t get over this. It’ll never make much sense that any of this is real.” Cassie looked around. “But I guess it is.”

Tsumi chuckled at her and stepped closer to her. “You know how I like to view it? I like to say this was inevitable, but we were blissfully unaware of it. However, the world knew we had something to do with one another and stuck us together somehow.”

“Sounds like some kind of video game.”

“I know. Hard to believe that stuff could be based in some kind of reality.” Tsumi promptly moved on. “But, I’ll take you home now.”

“Oh, if you quit your job, did you move out of your place?”

“Yes, I did. Again, I had no need for it. Especially when I have this place.”

Cassie looked off. “Then how are we supposed to meet?”

He looked at her and grew a look of fondness. “Don’t worry about that. I can find you anywhere you are in the world and if you ever want to find me, it’s as simple as just calling me.”

They stared at each other, and Cassie still couldn’t adjust to the way Tsumi was now. His behavior was something vastly off from his normal and while she wouldn’t say she hated it; she didn’t really know how to respond to this version of himself. She wanted to say something, but she kept it to herself—like always—and instead just nodded to him.

“Alright, that’s simple enough.”

“Right, then let’s get you home.”

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

It makes me happy to see this as someone who writes a TON of fantasy. I think another way to look at this is to say that you can't be racist to a dog and to apply that to your story. Most people feel it's inhumane to put a human in a cage, but not a dog.

The best way that I avoid this is to think how are my species related. One really specific example is a story where my characters are suppose to be "born by typical human means, but because of when they were born they ended up with special powers lol." I call these guys blood borns and always refer to them as a different species.

I've never even considered referring to them as a race because they're too different from "normal" humans in my story to be considered one.

Funnily enough, because of that, that story isn't my metaphor for racism despite having a plot close to it. The one that is has all the creatures under the same species, but they have differences between them and are put in a caste system referred to as 'classes' that order their importance and the whole plot is that their system is flawed assuming that [superior race] x [anyone else] isn't a true blood. When the caste system simply states that anyone who has two of the same blood type is a true blood.

I just think it's easier for people to use races because in our own world that's how it's used. We treat different "races" as whole other beings, which is really ridiculous.

Fantasy """races"""

We should stop calling fantasy races that. Normalize calling them "species" or "kinds" or "kin", or just anything other than "race".

A "race" is a matter of non-meaningful differences like skincolor and maybe average penis length. There is no evidence that different races are more intelligent etc which can't be explained by differences in opportunity or culture.

A """race""" is not living four times as long, and also they can read people's minds, and they are an anthropomorphic cat, and get +1 to DC saving throws against fire because why not, and have completely different origins to other """races""", also they're genetically predisposed to mindless lawful neutral rampages. That's something else.

High elves and dark elves and wood elves could probably be considered races of each other (if all any stat differences are due to culture or magic, not blood). But not in relation to humans.

I'm just saying; when Tolkien established the concept of fantasy races the word "race" meant something very different than it does now. Not to accuse Tolkien of anything, I have no idea what his stance on that matter was, but still.

Having an entire intelligent species that is inherently evil is one thing, but calling that a """race""", and especially if it gets used as a metaphor for actual races or racism, is another entirely.

The metaphor doesn't work because in real life all races are the same in ability (except for shit like +1 to cow juice digestion or -15 to not combusting in the sun like a vampire).

But racists don't know that or choose not to, they believe some races are better than others and there's a genocide-or-be-replaced situation when there just isn't. Racists often hurt their own race if it means hurting a different race because they believe it's that or their race will cease to exist, like how you might sacrifice a bunch of Gondorians to defeat Mordor, but since that isn't going to happen in real life they are actually just hurting themselves and others for no reason.

The irrationality of racism is crucial for all allegories of it because it's more likely to convince evil people to not be racist than the moral argument.

If in your setting """races""" are as different as they often are in fantasy, you have created a world where replacement theory can actually happen and where there could be some strictly practical arguments for racist policies like paternalism or even genocide which aren't completely imaginary.

Speciesism is also an interesting and valuable concept to explore, since unlike racism it may be practical but still unmoral (being distrusting of or genociding Tolkien or 40k orcs is still genocide but, like, they're orcs. Mindflayers even more so, they can literally only exist by parasitizing and torturing other intelligent species, it's the lesser of two evils). But sometimes speciesism might not be practical either. There is never a reason to discriminate against hobbits, they're just perfect little guys. They just wanna hang out and maybe sell cheap produce, without them the price of turnips will skyrocket! But speciesism should definitely be kept separate from race.

The words we use change how we think to some extent. Especially when in so many settings the "human" ""race"" is invariably Just White People™, then people will start thinking of all non-white races with the same brain pathways we use to conceptualize Orcs and Klingons. They become part of the same "other" as POC, which probably isn't going to improve the othering situation.

I've seen friends of mine (not racists) slip up and say "Humans" when they actually just mean "Europeans" in the context of talking about actual IRL history which is a mistake writers should probably stop priming our brains to make.

Could you imagine if all our crime media did the same thing and made people associate criminals with people of color??? oh wait

Not many people talk about how deep emotional neglect hurts you.

I’m afraid to want things. I’m afraid to ask for help. I’m afraid to tell someone something if they seem in a bad mood. I can’t process when someone is nice to me. I can’t handle rejection, but my brain literally short circuits if someone gives me a compliment to the point where sometimes the rejection is better.

There are lots of overlap with emotional abuse, but emotional neglect hurts just as much. And it’s even worse that it usually goes undetected, so a lot of people can’t tell they’re being neglected until it’s too late.

Snippet Saturday

from Kingdom of Bumalia

"...you and I share a different relationship. You have given me a job that… I want to fulfill as best as I can; however, that entails working closely with you and being sure anything you do doesn’t affect what I have to do.” She paused. “Think of it this way, it’s true people my age don’t view you as a major authority, we see you as someone we can relate to and with that comes a level of dismissal.”

Leigh looked off. “So my words will never hold against you? That seems to be true for everyone around me; if not this, then it’s my age and if not my age, it’s my standing.”

Cassie’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to be rude, but can I say something?”

“Go ahead.”

“You keep up such a bright smile, but have feelings like this. I think it’s completely fine that you’re sometimes upset or hurt by the words of others. I feel you should embrace those feelings and grow from them, because that hurt you’re feeling is a part of who you are.”

He looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard tales of you being bested in battle or screamed at for an inability to work and yet in those moments your smile never wavered. This shows those problems don’t phase you, but these do. Working to remedy these problems should be at the forefront. Above all else, you should think, how am I going to make myself feel better?”

Leigh’s eyes watched her face intently, so much so that Cassie had to avoid his gaze. She reached to adjust her book below her and when she looked back up Leigh was sitting upright again.

“How do you have such wise words?”

“Because I have lived my life instilled with fear from an early age. My nature dictates I am very fearful of anything that comes my way and instead of allowing it to control me, I found a way to cope with it. Writing, reading, drawing and painting; anything expressive has helped me to mitigate my feelings and develop a fondness for what I do now.”

Leigh then looked to the top of her head. “I always forget what you are because you hide your bunny ears. However, maybe that bias should be avoided and I should learn this look of yours.”

I tried to ignore my urge but... Fuck it, I saw this and my writer brain was like

So, here it is...

Peaking out from the foliage, the young boy saw what he knew as a predator. His perception of the world that was shaped entire by the tales of his parents led him to assume the midnight feathered man was someone to fear, yet his stomach told him something else.

Yes, his stomach let out sounds of hunger and that pervaded his mind more than any perception of the man before him. The sounds must have been loud as the crow looked up and just managed to catch the mouse trying to hide himself.

Now worried, the mouse hoped he wasn't seen. He thought to move and escape from his range, but he didn't know if that was smart. He wasn't as skilled as his parents in escaping death, so he instead remained hoping that their gaze meeting was just a coincidence.

That's when the boy looked out again and saw the crow crouched near where he hid. The food he was eating was in his hand and the sent of whatever it was found its way to his nose.

The crow had left food for him.

This was something he didn't understand. Weren't birds vicious predators that attacked and even killed their kind?

It seemed even his thoughts could be heard, because the second he thought that, the crow spoke up.

"You can eat that, it's not a trap. I have no need to eat creatures of your kind."

The mouse was still frozen in fear, so the crow went on.

"We don't usually eat your kind you know? That is saved for those barbaric hawks or those listless vultures."

That did line up with what he knew and it was only then the mouse realized he wasn't anything his family had even spoken poorly of. In fact, he hadn't heard anything bad about the collected bird before him. Was this because crows were actually kind?

That didn't line up with what he understood about other birds but...

Once again, his stomach growled.

Unwilling to think more on it, he reached his tiny hand out and dropped to retrieve the food. He looked back at the crow finding him enjoying his own lunch without a concern in the world for him.

The mouse stared for a bit and the crow smiled. As much as he wanted to thank him, he didn't know if he should. So, he instead took the food and ran off leaving the crow in amusement.