[Caelum's Scrapbook] Use Your Words.

[Legion]

I can, but I’d have to kill you.

[Caelum]

Disclaimer: Reposting first and second examples with a brand new third example at the bottom. Scroll down if you want the freshest. (So fresh and so clean, clean.) How To Give An ST A Moderation Request Reach Around Example the First: You want a gnosis thread! The Wrong Way Hi! Jane needs a gnosis mark from Ivak. Will you mod the thread for me? The Right Way Hi! Jane needs a gnosis mark from Ivak. Do you have time to mod the thread for me? I am leaning toward making her a Zaital due to x, y and z reason, but I understand that is ultimately the mod’s call which Azenth family she fits best. Below I have included links to applicable threads which demonstrate why Jane would attract Ivak’s attention. The summary is that Jane has done x, y and z. Jane’s character goals are liberating the rats in Ravok and, of course, Ivak Himself. (If applicable -) This will be Jane’s second gnosis mark from Ivak. Here is a link to her first Ivak gnosis thread as moderated by ST Awesome. It has been over a year since that thread was begun and you may peruse the attached links for the required ten in the interim proving she has been a faithful and active Azenth. Thank you for your time and consideration, Jane’s Player. In Conclusion You need to take as much time and effort in your mod request as you expect the mod to take in it. - - - ST Reach Around: II Example the Second: you want a training thread! The Wrong Way Hi! Bill needs training in long sword. Can you help me out? The Right Way Hi! Bill needs training in long sword and as he is already at Competent level with 42 XPs, an Expert or higher in Long Sword is required to teach him. I am aware that we are not allowed to write NPCs with an Expert or higher in any skill without ST permission. May I self moderate the NPC John Doe at Awesome Armory for training purposes in a thread? OR Do you have time to moderate an NPC long sword expert for me? Thank you! Bill’s Player. In Conclusion We do not have an abundance of STs and, as such, those we do have are often overloaded with modded threads. There are things that require a modded thread, but of those that do not require a modded thread are: training threads job threads Training Threads – An NPC must have a higher skill level than your PC in order to teach them. However, most STs do not require you to gain permission to self mod your own training thread unless the NPC is an expert or higher in a skill or the NPC you wish to use is city-owned instead of made up out of your head. In those circumstances, you have options other than asking your local ST to mod. They are: Gain permission to self mod Ask a friend to apply to the HD for permission to guest mod for you Job Threads – It is not required to have a job thread in order to obtain employment. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule from city to city and job to job; however, ask your DS if you need a modded thread to gain employment. A lot of the time you don’t. Yes, I’m stressing minimizing the number of modded threads you request from STs. This is because there are plenty ST modded threads which are required and necessary and not enough STs to go around. Of course, it’s flattering that you want to write a thread with an ST because so many of them are awesome; but don’t make the ST feel bad when, because they have a zillion modded threads going already, others to grade, plots to build, development to develop, they have to put you off or turn you down. - - - ST Reach Around: III Example the Third: You want to go on an adventure! The Wrong Way Hi! I’m bored and Lola needs something exciting to do. Will you mod a quest for me? The Right Way Hi! I’ve been struggling with getting Lola’s primary character plot off the ground/furthered. Her ultimate goal is to become the Pressorah of Ahnatep which leads to her secondary goals – presently the acquirement of what I would love to be some snazzy political secret buried in the catacombs beneath Dira’s temple. I need help figuring out the details what she can potentially learn that will, hopefully, result in her having leverage to blackmail Sinister Dude. Do you have time to help me figure out the best way to go about this? Your ideas are welcome. Thanks! Lola’s Player. In Conclusion STs do not, for the most part, have time to do a modded thread for you just because you’re lacking in entertainment. That’s what PCs are for. Frankly, it’s kinda rude to ask an ST to mod a thread for you because you’re bored rather than asking them if they have a PC they might want to thread with. Us STs, we love our PCs, but they are often sorely neglected. On the other hand, if you have a character goal and/or plot idea (the first translates into the second, remember, class?) and part of it requires moderation due to whatever rules (NPCs, acquired goodies, etc) and/or you need some help solidifying it and require a soundboarder, yes. Absolutely. Talk to an ST. I am happy to help with such things. Just remember that in order for an ST to help you make something awesome, you first have to give that ST something to work with.

[Caelum]

My co worker suggested I document my insanity in case I ever have to so plea in a court of law. This is the best place to do so for “Exhibit A – Katie’s Gamer Madness”. Documented Proof : What My Puppy Thinks of This :

[Caelum]

That is all. - k.

[Caelum]

This is not my day. My husband has pink eye and this has resulted in me discovering a deep and intense phobia for eye infections. I had this epiphany when I realized I was knee deep in scrubbing out my bath tub with comet while still in nice work clothes within five minutes of learning about the pink eye. It was like biological warfare in reverse at my house. My husband finally asked me if I wanted him to wash the pets too. I responded the only acceptable way to this, which was: fuck off. I have issues, apparently. Who would have thought? Last week every single one of my deadlines that matter got moved due to a situation beyond my control. They were not moved out, but in. I had to wipe my entire calendar and rebuild it. This has resulted in many changes, up to and including the sudden necessity of rewriting the entire second act of one of my manuscripts and me just now having to turn down a content editing job from someone whom I admire a great deal because their timeline in no way meshes with that of my prior commitments. In the words of a friend and fellow author, “From there, I dunno. Die Hard.” The yogurt I brought for breakfast this morning was sour. This was sad. On the bright side, I’m time juggling like a pro AND I get to go see the Avett Brothers in concert this weekend. That means there’s some more Mizahar stuff I need to handle before disappearing for most of the weekend. Again. But Avett Brothers, y’all. I heart them. I will cease my bitching now and get back to work. - k.

[Tabarnac]

I have a rash on my hand. The doctor can't make it go away. I hate working with the public! But Avett Brothers? Boom! Backflip. Hopefully you will not be making passes at them with the pinkeye. That would be both sad and gross.

[Caelum]

Rattled. This morning I left early for work when the fog was still thick skinned and stubborn on the marsh. There’s a coffee shop/art gallery downtown that has outstanding breakfast sandwiches and I thought to treat myself, it being a Friday and all. Usually I turn on the car radio, catch a morning show or crank up my music. I had a favorite poem stuck in my head, however, crawled out of some dream of my coming trip to Chicago, maybe, as it belongs to Carl Sandburg. At a Window kept replaying in my head so I let it – Give me hunger, O you gods that sit and give the world its orders... I was thinking it was a Caelum piece, thinking about using it in a flashback idea I’d been toying with for awhile; but I wasn’t thinking orderly, no linear lines or even encompassing nets. It was a morning mental drift on the islands expressway I’ve driven ten thousand times; and for a nameless reason my memories fell into a dark place years back, a car accident even the police were amazed I survived. Gravel on the side of the road, inexperience at driving cat and a high speed swerve, a railing and a flip and I landed upside down in a ditch. It was a long time ago, but I could taste the smoke and blood and air bag dust. The sound of a crash brought me back to the present. My first wild thought stabbed at the idea I had managed to cause an accident by being in a car daze over a long dead one. How fucking foolish I thought I was; but then I realized it wasn’t me. It was the car in front of me and I had seen it, of course, in the way you can watch the world with your eyes while at once peering at an unraveling thought in your mind. A motorcycle had cut in front of the car ahead of me, but not too close, no. Only the car in front of me was being captained by a high schooler, probably reaching for her phone or flipping through music. They collided and I had reacted with air bag dust still in my throat, slamming on the breaks, jerking over to the side of the road. Staring, then, blinking the world back into sense. My airbag hadn’t gone off. My car hadn’t hit anything. The driver of the car was running out, other cars were pulling over, and that highschool kid was freaking out, bloodless and panicked while standing over the crunched up form of a motorcyclist and his bike. I shoved out of my car, intent on helping, doing something, adrenaline flushing. Only so were other people, people already on cell phone, dialing 911, people bending over the motorcyclist, looking like if they didn’t know what they were doing they at least knew more I would, people sort of gathering up the flipping out kid. So I stood there, useless, wishing I had medical training, faith hailing, a pocketful of hapchance or God knows what until the sirens came. He wasn’t alright, that motorcyclist. He really wasn’t alright. I got back into my car and finished driving to the office. I forgot to get my breakfast sandwich and I feel weird. Rattled. Like I need what Sandburg was saying – Give me hunger, but leave me a little love. Anyway, I’ll be gone this weekend as of tomorrow. I’ll see if I can’t get a few more things done on Miz before I leave. Y’all take care of yourselves. - k post script: Dani, no pink eye. What have you been doing with that hand anyway?

[Rhuryc]

"Let me sell you my dreams. Take these dreams for whatever you want to pay me. You shall never be tried till the sea is tired. You shall never go weary till the land and the wind go weary. You will be hard as nails, soft as blue fog. Man is born with rainbows in his heart and you will never read him until you consider rainbows."

[Legion]

I’m back from out of town. This weekend can be summed up with: four wheelers, wine, woods, Avett Brothers, packed stadium concert. So, yes: awesome and much needed mini break. I’ve been told its Valentine’s Day. In its honor, I give you all Sandor Clegane.

[Caelum]

A note on serious writing. Years ago I decided to get serious about writing. This was, notably, not the first time I made that decision, but it was the first time I was in a place in life and maturity to make it and then stick to my guns. At the time I did this, I was already published. I don’t equate serious writing with being published. For me and my goals, serious writing is being paid enough to do it that I don’t have to have additional jobs to pay my bills. For any number of reasons up to and including my own ability/skill/talent, time, the present state of the publishing industry and always, always marketable genres, there is a very good chance I will never obtain that goal. A close friend asked me yesterday why I spend time writing for a free game and being involved in free and only sometimes serious writing projects with friends when that time could be better spent working more on one of my marketable manuscripts. “Writing is writing,” she said. “Do it where it will take you somewhere.” This friend is not a writer, but she is a very good friend who is trying to understand something about me that both eludes and frustrates her. It frustrates her, she explained to me, because since we were thirteen and staring down the terrifying excitement of freshman year of highschool together, the only thing I have ever wanted to do was write. I was monumentally uninterested in persuing any alternate career path or devoting any time and effort to other scholarly realms. Oh, sure, for a minute when I was six I wanted to be a ballerina kitten (possibly a hognose snake) and I gave serious consideration to growing into the leader of the free world when I was thirteen; but the only alternate careers I have turned to as an adult in the working world were done ultimately because I needed cold, hard cash and the writing gigs just weren’t cutting it. Did I/do I enjoy some of these jobs? Sure. There are aspects to all of them that I have enjoyed, discovered an unexpected talent at and/or found interesting. I sometimes think if I did not love writing with as much depth as I do, I might have space inside me for contentment in one of these other careers. But I have learned that while I can be happy in these other careers, I cannot be content. Knowing this, my friend asked what she did. And, knowing this, I told her that without those so-called useless projects with friends, without Mizahar and the outlet for “unserious” writing they provide, my love for writing would become unrequited. It would become just another job or another thing that frustrates and time devours. The shine would be gone, the inspiration left for Bali leaving me with just a bunch of bags to unpack and life’s worth of dirty laundry. I write because I want to write. I write because I think in people shapes and they talk to me when their stories need told. I write because words compile in my mind trapped behind a someone’s teeth and set to poet beats. I write because I’m not someone’s elses idea of normal or maybe because like Gaiman said I was born with a compulsion to make everything truer than true. I don’t ever want that to change and if all the writing I ever did was for deadlines and paychecks it would. I couldn’t stop it. There’s no deus ex machina, no second act rewrite in real life. Writing this way, serious and not-so-serious hand in hand, is the only way. Pretty sure my friend thinks I’m crazy now if she didn’t already. Does anyone else face these questions? Or are trying to figure out what the way is for you? Time to go do a little work. - kate.