water dialogues

Story Shard 376

“I hate Halloween. Instead of dressing up and getting free candy and cavaties, I have to grab bottles of sacred water and a blessed sword and go make sure the barriers between our world and another remain as they are. Every year. The same thing. Dammit I want candy.”

“I will buy you 100 bucks worth of candy if you will just shut up.”

When I was younger, my mother would always tell me one particular thing right before I would leave the house: she would request that I tolerate others. To hold my tongue and not speak out or fight back if anyone spoke badly about where I am from or the religion I practice. This especially became a concern after 9/11. “Always remember the colour of your skin,” she would remind me. “This country looks down on us. They always have. They always will.” And if it was my word against that of someone with lighter skin, I would easily find myself out of luck.

For that reason, I spent the majority of my youth walking around with clenched fists in my pockets. As I matured, I began to realize the cruel truths of the world, the horrible injustices done to people by other people. It was hard to accept, and sometimes, for some strange reason, it still is.

A great part of my being wants to believe that people are good. That they are still good despite everything they have done and continue to do to one another, and all the lives they have destroyed. This is perhaps extremely naive of me, and may be what eventually destroys me. Or perhaps this is the only thing that has kept me alive.

I find people to be a mix of horrible, fascinating, and brilliant. I think it is a rather dangerous combination. Lines are almost always crossed, because limits do not exist to us. We possess the ability to love and hate without any restrain, and not surprisingly, both inevitably lead to our ruin. We are idealistic, foolish, and stubborn. We pursue those things which we cannot and should not possess. We pursue ideas of permanence which themselves have changed through the course of time. We chase after ideals which are made to sound great in theory, but are often (read: always) treated as mythology and enforced as such.

One such myth is multiculturalism. If it truly exists, or if it ever has, it should be understood that multiculturalism has failed us. It has taught us nothing but to open ourselves to new culinary delights. But we are not some sort of ethnic buffet! Multiculturalism has done more for domestic economies than it has for its foreign-domestic populations, the products of immigration. It has not made us more amicable towards one another. It has not dissolved racial issues and concerns. It has not brought communities together. And it has not rid of preconceived notions of other races, religions, genders, or sexual orientations.

In fact, multiculturalism has been, at best, just a tease. A little show of skin; sultry legs, a dipping neckline, some cleavage. Something to excite the exotic in us. Something to make us feel like we are accepted, that we belong. That years of historic violence, abuse, and oppression can somehow be looked past without an apology. And no, multiculturalism is not an apology. It is not even a welcome, or a thank you. It is a bone. A pacifier. A lollipop for the crying child. A pathetic excuse.

Multiculturalism has failed us. Because it was never fully intended to work. Because tolerance is not the same thing as acceptance. Some of western society’s favourite occupations are to confuse tolerance for acceptance, acceptance for apology, common sense for liberalism, civic duty for charity – all on the pretense of some kind of profound form of enlightenment. Yet our names, languages, ethnicities, religions, and “cultures” all become subject to western fetishization. Somehow, for some reason, it is still okay to portray the non-white individual as the “other,” as something to be fascinated by. As if fundamentally altering the course of our history, and ultimately our existence, was alone not enough. But contrary to popular belief, we are not here for handouts or charity. But our struggles and sacrifices will be acknowledged. All the buzz words mean nothing to us. We are more than our food and our clothes, more than the languages we speak. We are more than our skin.

I do not want for future generations to have to worry about the colour of their skin, or to be told that they should change their names to something more “Western” and “easier to pronounce.” I do not want to see another PhD mopping floors or driving taxi cabs to ensure their children have a glimmer of hope in the West, only to be cheated into the lower rung of the ladder despite their efforts.

I do not want another immigration watch organization handing out anti-immigration literature to every door in our neighbourhoods, and then claim that they are not racist. I do not want another man to fear being called a terrorist for his beard or turban, or because he carries on his Prophet’s name, or another woman to be targeted for her hijab, her faith, and be told to go back to her country. Remember this: you cannot justify stealing bread from someone, and then becoming angry when someone else asks you for a piece.

The word diaspora translates from Greek to mean “the dispersal of seeds.” An immigrant is such a seed, planting him or herself into alien soil, dreaming to flourish as others have. But a seed cannot grow if the soil will not provide the nutrients it needs to survive. More and more of our seeds are failing, deteriorating, eventually dying. Or are just beginning to grow and then finding themselves to be cut down. Torn from their roots. Discarded.

The approach to this collection was not only to quell but also to cause qualm; to provide both a source for one to heal, as well as a brief glimpse into hell; to both remedy injury as well as rouse anger; to disturb those who have been pacified; to momentarily disrupt the course of Western thought; to trace back our own roots; to serve as reminder of our customs and traditions; and to recall all that has been lost and left behind.

The intention has been to incite discussion, to invite one another into a sense of acceptance, so that generations that follow can be inspired by us. It is not only a matter of racial differences, but also learning to put aside those differences which divide even communities of similar racial backgrounds and ethnic origins.

We must, for the sake of that which is left of our humanity, maintain the fact that we are each a body of water. We are each a fragment of ocean, a force of nature. We must learn to coexist alongside one another so that we may thrive. So that our collective force may become that of the ocean as opposed to minuscule drops of it.

—  Naveed Abdullah Khan || “After Word” from By Bodies of Water
damen pov vs. laurent pov

@josselinkohl asked me about writing damen’s pov vs. writing laurent’s pov and I think instead of subjecting you all to lengthy-post reblogs, I’ll make a whole new one. it’s interesting, I never intended to use damen’s pov, but when I was thinking about a sequel to lines on palms I realised pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be able to set up the entire disguise thing without using damen. 

AND DO NOTE: I set that up by making damen’s pov slightly laurent…ian? in that he recognises laurent but keeps it from the narrative for a while. this universe I’m writing shows the two of them influencing one another fairly explicitly: damen learns a bit of dissembling, laurent learns that recognising and sharing his emotions is not, in fact, going to bring about the end of the world.

but in general, thinking about how I approach writing the two of them, there are some absolute points of difference:

  • what they notice, and how they describe it. in lines on palms, laurent gets distracted by a gorgeous bedspread. he admires mosaics. he’s grown up surrounded by ornate decoration and he likes beautiful things. the only thing that gets that level of description and lingering detail, in damen’s narration, is laurent himself. 
  • laurent is much more critical when it comes to his internal monologue about people. he’s super bitchy. and he’s always thinking about motives and alliances and weaknesses. 
  • and his mind is busy. he is a lot more prone to tangents; damen follows lines of thought in a direct fashion.
  • this is something that should always be considered if you’re writing in first or tight third person, but: the metaphors and similes that they use are quite different. damen is a soldier-prince. a lot of his metaphors relate to weapons or fighting. like handling a freshly sharpened sword. laurent’s a scholar and a strategist; his are more varied, but usually artistic. like a man picking a lantern-lit path through mist. light falling onto damen’s shoulders like gilding powder. tense uncertainty like a splash of cold water to the face.
  • damen’s dialogue is more likely to reflect what he is actually thinking and feeling at any given time. laurent’s dialogue is often layered, or minimised, or masking something else; from his pov this becomes more obvious because you can see the workings of his mind behind it, and see exactly how much he keeps back.

I talked about this a bit in the other post, but: when I think about laurent’s pov, the emotions are more likely to be obliquely rendered. cs pacat is very good at doing this even with damen. she doesn’t tell you that laurent in a short chiton is driving him mad with desire. she tells you in GREAT DETAIL about how the pitcher shatters on the floor, and that the chiton is even shorter sitting down. obviously, my style is different to pacat’s; I’m not trying to mimic her exactly, when I write fic. but this particular technique can be very effective to give the impression of a character who is reserved and guarded. 

on the other hand, half the fun of writing laurent is showing that beneath all the reserve is a BEWILDERING RUSH OF FEELINGS, or showing the racing thoughts and actual sensations that happen in between those lines of calmly delivered dialogue. it all depends on the scene and what you’re trying to convey.


So my girlfriend is the best in the entire world, she’s done a whole crap ton of cool word art but this is her biggest! She made it for our year anniversary! Almost every character is made from their dialogue.
The Flowers Frisk are on are made from the story of the beginning dialogue and Chara’s story
Grillby is made from all the dialogue that happens in his bar.
The Waterfall is made from all the dialogue in water fall
Gaster is made from the dialogue from his entrys and his followers
The core is made from most every monster’s dialogue in the core.


30 Day Avatar the Last Airbender Challenge

Day 19: Random dialogue that amuses me; Katara and Toph handle the mean girls.

“I know it doesn’t matter but you’re really pretty.”

“I’d return the compliment but I have no idea what you look like. Thanks Katara.”


pokeshipping in every episode: EP061 - The Misty Mermaid

Note: some further commentary about this episode that was hard to convey through gifs of individual moments can be found in this other post (which might make it clearer why I chose to include that scene with Daisy).

Some dub edits in this episode: Ash’s line while looking at the poster in the original is “What a weird gym. First it was synchronized swimming now it’s a water ballet”; while the dialogue at the end is  “But why isn’t the Cerulean gym just a Pokémon gym?”/ “Don’t be so insensitive!” (thanks anon!).

"Did you forget?" – a brief visual recap of the end of episode 1

Alright, so I lazily stumbled upon this gifset and, and savingrinmatsuoka ’s tags actually reminded me why this is among one of my favourite scenes in the whole show. I have addressed this in passing in the past as well, but I figured I’d go through it point by point to illustrate how I feel like exchange between Rin and Haruka –in the first episode of the series no less– is by far the biggest indicator of what’s to come regarding Haruka’s future character development and feelings towards Rin, as well as their special brand of mutual misunderstandings.

Now, I know there’s always alternate ways of interpreting every scene and this is probably simply the most Captain Obvious one, but I genuinely feel that this is the moment where the past and the present first collide in a way that tells you everything you need to know about their future.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Honestly all Bella Dona drama is pitting Latinas against each other and its so stupid. I am Latina, but I am also half white and very white passing and very hyper aware of that privilege. Not only from being "more accepted" by gring@s but also by

[cont.] Being NOT accepted by the Latin@ community! bella dona DOES use diverse models. Who knows that those girls backgrounds are. When I fill out any paperwork I do check white but that doesn’t make me less Latina.

It’s unclear whether you’re writing this as a disgruntled fan or are a part of the “Bella Donna” camp. What is clear, however, is that you have managed to take an important, must-had conversation on colorism, representation, and cultural exploitation and reduced it to simple “drama.” What needs to be understood is that voiced concern from brown, dark skinned latinxs–especially poor-working class latinxs from the hood who have been notoriously and historically criminalized for being part of the chola subculture–should not be minimized not even because it uncomfortably forces you to consider any harm you may perpetuate. 

But instead of taking a moment to leave your ego at the door, listen, and reflect, you arrogantly centralize yourself within the dialogue.  Your self-described victimization within this latinx community is hyperbolic, melodramatic, and unnecessary. Truth is that you are indeed accepted just like every blue eyed, blonde who is disproportionately  plastered on every inch of Latin American media, so this claim that you understand and are “hyper aware” of the varied, multitude of benefits afforded to light/white individuals in a white supremacist/anti-black/anti-indigenous society holds absolutely no water, 

This dialogue doesn’t “pit latinxs against each other” colorism as a structure has made the division way before any brand used the culture of the marginalized as a profitable aesthetic, So we can either hold ourselves accountable and grow or we can continue to pretend  that these concerns are fruitless and act like true divisiveness derives from the very people who have to struggle continuously against the structure that you contribute to. 

The Waters of DeadMoon is one of those stories in Heavy Metal that still holds a lot of influence on a lot of readers twenty five years later. I think a lot of that has to do with the amount of world-building that got inserted in the story from the artwork alone. Details that aren’t remarked upon, but there they are.

An excellent example is the bottom panel on this page. That’s very clearly one of the bridges across the Seine in Paris, clearly establishing quite a bit about the setting. It’s set in Paris and the river has dried up, which supports the importance that water has in the dialogue.

(Heavy Metal issue #126, May 1990 - Page 18 The Waters of DeadMoon by Adamov and Cothias )