Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope you like it.
Anecdoche // a conversation in which everyone is talking and no-one is listening
in the open darkness of the house in which he used to live, the silence is
oppressive. He’s never been an enemy of silence; used to find it comforting, in
one way or another. In Hurtfew, silence was companionable; in London, silence
was his only chance to breathe. Here, in this house, in the cellar room,
silence was tense and tight and grieving, but powerful for all that. A silence
after which Black Joan Childermass would open her mouth, swear in a language
she never taught him, and then tell him everything would be reet. They’d manage.
They’d carry on.
he can think of, now, as he drifts up and down the staircases and in and out of
the rooms like a black ghost is the silence he had come back to on the day that
things weren’t reet. How badly he had needed her to say it, how painful the
knowledge that she never would again.
he’d stood in their cellar room in front of Hannah and all the other children,
and he swore in a language he’d never learnt, and he said it would be reet.
They’d manage. They’d carry on.
wrapped himself up in his mother’s name and he’d walked away from this house,
in the end. At sea he had been so silent they’d thought he was dumb. He hadn’t
spoken more than fifty words from the day he left this place to the day he
walked out of the Hurt and into Norrell’s life, not fifty words in five years.
sits down on the bottom cellar step, feeling the echo of his own footsteps in
the stone. The air is colder than he remembers, even through his coat and
greatcoat; he’d not always had a shirt, in those days, and so it bemuses him
that it’s only now he feels the chill.
he remembers the look on Norrell’s face. The last expression he would ever see
of his, the last words he would hear. He can’t even remember what they were – he
had been too angry, too hurt, to listen.
wonders now if Norrell felt, perhaps is feeling, the same. If his own last
words had fallen into a deep unlistening darkness, if they had been lost in the
thunder and the roaring of the rain, if Lascelles had, at the very last,
drowned him out.
Childermass stands up, swears in a language he’d thought he’d forgotten, and
walks back out into York’s winter-darkened streets. He’ll manage. He’ll carry
i just got tloz breath of the wild and literally the first thing i did was die from fall damage after i accidentally dove head first off a cliff while waving around a stick 10/10 would definitely recommend
it really bothers me that people think that once you’re away from the abuse, you’ll instantly start recovering. in the times i had spent away from abuse, i had more panic attacks than i’d ever had before. that was because i was in a safer place to experience the feelings i’d repressed my entire childhood. it, unfortunately, really really doesn’t just stop or get better when you’re out.
I’ve been playing games since I was a little girl and I’ve played a fair number of open world games. But one thing that always keeps surprising me in Breath of the Wild is the physics and chemistry.
Like…I’m used to “oh there’s a wall so there must be a door or a Specific Place to climb over” or characters who can’t get over knee high fences because of invisible walls. But here its “no just climb any part of the wall and keep going.”
I’m used to weather that looks pretty and makes for great screenshots. But in BotW it actually affects your gameplay. Rain makes rocks slippery and harder to climb. Lightning will strike you if you wear too much metal during a storm. Walking through snow actually hurts if you aren’t wearing good clothing or have a meal buff.
Arrows arc and drop off when you fire them. Square bombs fly differently then round ones. If you drop your weapon enemies will pick it up and use it. Horses can be tamed but will ignore your commands if you don’t feed and reward them. You can cut down trees for firewood or use them as bridges. Fire not only spreads realistically but will get blown in the direction of the wind.
There are so many small details and great touches its an amazing game and a refreshing new open world to explore.
It’s important to me to talk about how long I spend on art because I used to constantly feel like art “took me too long” and the things I did didn’t look like they should have taken the amount of time I spent on them, and while I’m not going to say there’s no way I could learn to get faster, I feel it’s too easy for new artists (and people in general) to get the impression that artists have a special power or “talent” that
lets them create finished pictures almost with a wave of their hand.
I would look at other people’s work and think it looked so easy,
so effortless that it must not have taken them very long, and I would
want to quickly create the same effect and get frustrated when I found myself stuck on it for hours. While there are ways to speed up the process and some artists just seem to have a knack for churning work out quickly, I’ve now come to realize that in many cases and for many people there is a long grind from concept to color to refining that just plain takes a lot of time. It’s pretty normal for a single picture to take me 8-10 hours to complete.
I wish I had known when I was younger that it’s okay to take the amount of time you need. Your art will be worth it.