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A Random list of your favorite things??

Books

Language in general

Dated words (attonce, hereupon, thence, hither, hitherto, ere, erstwhile, anon, wight, redoubted, etc.)

Poetry

Comic strips

Symbolism and motifs

Irony

Double meaning and loaded sentences

Literary analysis

Windy weather

Earrings and rings

Really salty foods (prosciutto, chorizo, french fries, muenster cheese, manchego, olives, sardines)

Knights, especially when they are upon their horses, flying their colors

Closed endings/cadences in music, 3/4 time signatures, staccato, orchestral swells

Evenings

The concepts of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) and the scientific method

Germanic fairy tales

When Death is personified in stories

When the devil is outwitted (one of the best tropes ever!)

Art Deco

Gilded or damascened things, including frames, mirrors, weapons, etc.

Polished surfaces

Ink

Rapiers (or espadas roperas)

Gothic/Medieval/Renaissance art and architecture

Psychology—consciousness, abnormal psychology, a little Freud and Jung

Fate intervening in fictional contexts

Birds

Italics

Monologuing

Theatricality and perversity (I'm usually keen to watch it go on in the context of fictional plots.)

It’s rare that I find a completely instrumental song that reminds me of Rafal (forewarning: this is an entirely subjective interpretation), so I present to you: "All Night" by Parov Stelar. To me, it seems to track his character progression, Rise through Fall.

It starts out quick; Rafal doesn't spare anyone a second glance aside from Rhian, generally.

A certain part, in which the music speeds up, the tension mounting, conveys a sense of urgency, reflecting the speed of his return, his overpowering need to get back.

It's got creeps of emotion that are ruthlessly quashed, like how Rafal cuts his ties with others, as he suppresses and denies his humanity the right to interfere in what he does for his own sake (and sometimes the balance), and the recursiveness just feels obsessive. The song always returns to the regular and methodical, the walking pattern.

Then, it slows around the midpoint and deepens in pitch, as he genuinely starts to struggle in Fall as his powers start to fail him, while he has a limp, and he obliterates any attachment he feels to almost everyone, only to not win.

Slightly niche Modern AU Rafal headcanon (Does anyone agree or have a different take?):

I had a random association and now, I'm almost certain Rafal would enjoy Russian doomer music, even solely for its vibes (assuming he is the fantasy equivalent of a Westerner who only speaks a Germanic language because most fairy tales in SGE are the Germanic ones. Honestly, one thing I wonder about, even if we have evidence of Spanish and other accents' existence, is how the Woods as we've seen them are rather monolingual, probably for plot convenience, but that depiction just strikes me as a little strange, like, too deeply suspect that their world is that unified, all by itself—unless the Storian is to blame as usual—maybe we're not meant to allot it any critical thought...), although I've looked up some English translations of this genre's lyrics and they are rather dark, so that fits him fairly well—unless being silent with his thoughts would be preferable.

Yet, one clarification to make: Even if the music might resonate with him, I think he wouldn't be a fatalist until much later in whatever character progression he'd have. Instead, I see him as a doomsday prepper, in probably a more I-will-live-against-all-odds, Western, literally every-man-for-himself, individualist sense as that might be more in line with his character in canon. He'd be obsessed with survivalism and TEOTWAWKI (The End of the World as We Know It) as a concept.

Here is an example of the music I found—I'm not sure if this is actually representative of the whole and I don't know much about it or the historical context though.

Also, here are some English lyrics from various songs under the cut that I just happened to like:

Again the spring has come, And warming rays of sun Are looking in my cell through window-panes Again the heart will ache The feelings will awake And memory recalls auld days

Those days will come to me And I shall feel and see The girl whom I loved so long ago That girl came and left That girl I can’t forget Her image’s always in my soul.

Vladimir prison-house Сold northern wind My transport came from Tver And all my evil deeds Lie on my heart like heavy weights

⸻

Stab me with that stare as i walk by It's like poison in my blood It trips me up just like a stone I'm just sick of people, and they're sick of everything

⸻

My ship is sailing straight ahead, avoiding the land The captain drunk and stubborn He'll protect it till the end Drowning to the right, drowning to the left Not enough lifeboats, there isn't help for everyone Swimming away, I'm swimming away somewhere straight, somewhere away

How's your love life?? (This isn't meant to be taken seriously) Do with it what you will.

I’ve never had a love life and currently don’t want one. It sounds like too much work.

How much time are you usually on your phone for??

I'm not sure, and luckily, I don't seem to get eyestrain. Probably, I'm on it for far longer than is advisable. And still yet, it's convenient. To be fair, I don't often carry books around with me, and my laptop is often unwieldy in a public setting. So? Phone it is.

@anobody277642 Here is Rafal's "routine." I tried to keep him in character. You can tell me if anything's off.

⸻

Rafal: I haven't had the chance to take my alarm clock in for repairs, so Rhian has been waking me up these past few weeks. I just wish he wouldn't do something as hare-brained as feigning a state of emergency. It's as if he wants me to die young from a heart attack before I finish torturing M-Z of my students. I'd just gotten up to the Q's when Rhian visited Evil. If only Quintana were still under my authority, putting her in a straitjacket would've been the perfect revenge. [He sighs exasperatedly.]

Wait. [He narrows his eyes with suspicion.] I'm sure Rhian's given you some sort of account. And no matter how accurate or misleading it is, why should I give you intel you could use against me? [cloyingly sarcastic] Tell me, would you also like a written timetable to monitor my every move with, pest?

What are some clothes that you tend to wear pretty often??

Interesting yet an oddly specific question—

A black jacket with a zipper and a high collar—it's not a track jacket or it could be, but I don't use it for that (I'm not sure what to call it? Any ideas as to what its name actually is?), and I'm not sure what type of fabric it is, but it seems smooth and slightly elastic-like.

Second, my white windbreaker has become a given, no question about it. During summer and spring, I bring it everywhere.

Pajamas are a frequently recurring outfit, usually because I don't go out extremely often.

I have a thin, grey sweater with a broken zipper by now, and I still wear it every winter in the house, especially if I've caught a cold.

Quintana: You should be locked up! You are a danger to humanity!

Rafal: [seething with rage] That will never happen.

⸻

200 years later:

Rafal: [indignantly to no one in particular] Hmpth, I chose to lock myself up!

Agatha: [through an air vent, rolling her eyes] You must've gone stir-crazy. Even locked up you still endangered us.

⸻

Post-TLEA:

Dean Sophie: Oh, this old thing? Yes, I renovated everything in the tower—couldn't possibly live in a musty, old cell like Rafal did. I have standards.

is there a question that you just can't get the answer or try to comprehend

No, not necessarily. Sometimes, I don’t have an answer in mind right away, have plans to write something else, or am busy. Besides, I still have two anons from February, so I’m generally always a bit “late” with asks that require more thought. Also, there is no guarantee that I will answer every ask. I do appreciate the questions though.

Favorite season and why??

I would say the fall since it’s more moderate in temperature. And while it can be cold at times, I enjoy windy weather.

If you don't have classes, what are you usually doing??

Coursework for the classes, of course.

Also—remembering I have a corporeal form when it’s inconvenient. And not-sleeping. Quite a lot of not-sleeping, as, to an extent, I feel like I read 24/7, but a lot of it is lowbrow procrastination reading, so one way or another it’s some form of media consumption.

Oh dear, I have multiple color feelings but if I must do math this late at night, I suppose they would add up to a general lilac. Perhaps with a bit of space because I am generally an anxious person, but lilac definitely.

Thank you! I'm likely not intimidating in person at all, but I know just telling you without proof probably won't automatically change any perceptions you might have, so I also thank you for responding anyway in spite of your anxiety. You didn't have to and I appreciate it.

Plus, to anyone: you can always correct me or tell me if I've offended anyone.

I feel like a lot of what holds me back from DMing you is my own social anxieties (I much relate to the "default to basic pleasantries" thing). I feel like you'd be a nice person to be around, though, even if we only talk about basic pleasantries. You seem to have good taste and good takes.

Maybe when the idea of DMing people doesn't scare me, I'll DM you. For now, I think I'll pop in and out of your asks every now and then. It stops the conversation from being "one-way", at least.

- space anon

Thank you! I appreciate the discussion.

All right! By the way, you have entire, selective control over how you present yourself over text, and I wouldn't mind it in the least if you were to send a dm and never tell me you were this Anon. You wouldn't even have to interact in real-time if that contributes to your social anxiety. Not everything anonymously done has to be "confessional," if that's the internet stereotype.

Either way, I will be transparent: I don't expect you or anyone to communicate with me verbally or personally at all, to necessarily view me as "real" since you only know the facets of myself I decide to show you through a screen, and realistically, I expect that the only reason I was followed initially was for my value as a commentator than an as an individual, which I'm fine with. (However, thank you to anyone who has taken interest in me as a person and not just as a concept. That was very nice of you to have done.)

And, remember: the stakes are nonexistent if you chose to remain anonymous! So, it would never matter, if you chose to move forward in communicating or decided not to. Even if Anons always appeal to my curiosity, I wouldn't ask you to tell me who you are, and once again, the decision is entirely yours.

French rose.

I'm kidding. (Tell me I'm funny.)

Fern.

You are funny.

You also win a prize for responses that always seem to make me do a double take or rethink things!

I, uh, don't know if you meant in relation to sfgae (somehow) or yourself, but you've been very fern (in relation to this post)

you're, like, super cool

Thank you! (I meant in relation to myself.)

I highly doubt I’m as cool as you think, but I will take it as a win! Unless perversity and being an all-around contrarian is cooler, in which case, I’ll say: I’m uncool and I know it.

space

https://www.tumblr.com/liketwoswansinbalance/760015235513991168

Wow, I’m flattered that you consider me intimidating, Anon. Though, I suspect that if I met anyone from here irl without knowing it was them, I’d either eventually bore you (it’s happened, alas), or I’d be more awkward than you and the conversation would go no further than basic pleasantries (a frequent result of seeing people I already know and discovering I have nothing substantial to say to them and that I’ve what little I knew about them decayed).

That said, if you ever want to dm me, in the near or far future, I’m willing to talk! I am nice, hopefully. (Sometimes, I forget to start with small talk. My fault, no one else’s. Don’t worry.) There’s a chance that stating all this outright probably makes you less inclined to believe me, whatever I say from here forward. Or, this guess could be incredibly contrived and I’ve anticipated nothing in this one-way “conversation.” So, I will just leave it up to you to judge me.

And if this is any help, I am actually cowardly—despite the fact that I write about murder and torture on occasion.

Send asks? Only if you want to, no pressure.

Also, I won't have any posts for either several days or longer—I've been busy since my classes started.

MOOTS ASSEMBLE.

You've done Rhian's morning routine, so what's your morning routine??

My routine varies based on the time of year, or where I am, but generally, I wake, dress, wash up, otherwise groom, etc., have breakfast (and often, read while I eat), arrange hard copies for that day, if there are any, and go to class, if I have a class that day. It’s not that narratively compelling, so I hope I haven’t disappointed, haha.

Rhian, drop your morning/night routine!

Rhian: In the morning, I don't "wake up" like most do. Instead, I simply get out of bed since I'm usually up all night attempting to fall asleep. Repose rarely overtakes me, and my mind's always reeling. I may have to commission a sleeping draught from a witch one day.

At this stage of the morning, Rafal is usually still out cold, and it doesn't matter how loud I am, so I listen to the morning Kingdom Council spellcast reports from a mirror I've ensorcelled at full volume and review the Putsi market trends as I start on my routine.

The Gillikin Gazette's updates about its ongoing cathedral construction are my favorites though—its flying buttresses rival Camelot's dated, heavier Romanesque designs. I only manage to catch those reports on Saturdays though since I have to be out of the tower and on my way at an early hour most days. Oh, and I tend to cast a spell, so my bed makes itself while I busy myself with more important tasks.

Firstly, I need my ermine slippers and silk dressing gown. I shower and usually start with a facial, rosewater, or whichever magical cure-all I'm currently using to remove my under-eye shadows with.

Though, Rafal's been a bother about the cucumbers I go through. He thinks I'll drain the Woods' supply and that he won't have any left for his sandwiches. Mind you, that isn't true in the least.

I use charcoal imported from Akgul to remove impurities of the skin, and that's been rather effective as of late. I also ice my pores, page through Maxine's progress reports, and keep tabs on the lackadaisical performers. Tracking's very important at a School like ours, you know.

On some occasions, I do my own makeup, but really, it seems to me that only the Evergirls care if they notice at all. These days, I've been fond of whipped beetroot tinctures and orchid cologne. Then, I arrange my hair, dress suitably for the day's activities in whichever clothes I pressed the night before, and polish my boots. I polish Rafal's too. He doesn't notice or care—thinks we're immune to disease and scrutiny—but he's missing the point. It's about image, of course. And I worry that he'll bring bird mites from his Stymphs indoors, and that would not only be unseemly for a School Master, but a disaster of inordinate proportions, even if our health isn't at risk. Think of the parent complaints we'd receive, if we had an infestation. The picket-lines would never end!

When I head out, Rafal's almost always still asleep, so I bring us back breakfast, and wake him then.

Well, I say "wake him," but rousing him isn't as simple as I've likely led you to believe. By now, it's turned into an awfully elaborate burlesque. I switch mirror channels to the Jaunt Jolie Music Hall's Cricket and Brass orchestra production of the day. If that fails, I bang a ladle on our breakfast's silver cloche over him. And if all else fails, I shout "FIRE," "INVASION," or even "PIRATES" if I'm desperate and running late, and that does the trick. I still haven't figured out if he's been deluding me though, or if it's his dreams that leave him with those horrid little grins.

Yet, this particular song-and-dance of sorts has been more of a recent development. His clarion-belled alarm clock from Geppetto's broke last month, and he hasn't had the time to replace it. The flight's a day's trip, and this new class of Nevers cannot be left alone for more than a day because he's sure there'll be either an outbreak of some pox or of some general pandemonium since he doesn't think I'm capable of maintaining order. I'm more than capable in truth.

We eat then, he in his pajama shorts and shirt and black stockings with the runs I chastise him about throwing out everyday, and me in my typical smart attire.

At the end, I wash up, sit, and wait for him to set the dishes to scrubbing themselves, comb his hair, and dress. After that, we split off to our respective sides for the day, and I see him again at dusk.

"Bye." or "Morning, brother." is as talkative as he gets at this time of day before he vanishes into the Tunnel of Trees or crosses the Halfway Bridge into the smog, unless he has a storybook victory to congratulate himself over or another point to bolster his side of an argument with—arguments I naively believed we'd already put to bed the night before.

After a full day of overseeing classes, Rafal legs it over the window sill when he returns and showers immediately when he gets back. Then, he grades papers and exams. On days when he's exhausted by puppeteering mock battle raids or Storian knows what he subjects those poor children to, he passes out in bed fully-clothed without showering, and showers in the morning.

All the while, I perform my nightly skin- and hair care routines, snuff out the candles, and get in bed with an eye mask, in my attempt to get a good night's sleep, often sooner than he goes to bed because he reads news updates and whatever musty tome he's tearing through late into the night.

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of a night terror and realize he's still up marking or reading or scheming, so I confiscate the candles at that point and force him to sleep. Rarely does he listen, and I've stopped bothering most of the time as he reads by the light of his fingerglow instead, contrary to all sound advice. He doesn't view sleep as necessary seeing as the Storian sustains us, but he has no sleep troubles, so I suppose that's an easy conclusion to form if you're him. The latest remedy I've resorted to is tucking lavender into my pillowcase, but I've had not a drop of luck.

Best part of your week??

I’m not sure, but overall, I’ve had a great, uneventful week, aside from the fact that I had a cold and a fever over a few of the past days. I’ve nearly recovered though. And it’s a relief that I’m almost done with an application for something course-related.

EDIT: I possibly should have included “Calculated, devious, or seductive” and also “Apathetic” somewhere, so those are two further options. The poll only allows twelve options in total.

POV: Rhian and Rafal go ice skating

Rafal: Keep up, Rhian. [he clips as he glides past Rhian as if in flight, posture ramrod straight, elbows out, hands tucked behind his back.]

[Rhian stalls at the edge of the lake from where he hadn't yet moved since lacing up his skates.]

Rhian: I still don't think it's a Good idea to skate over the Wish Fish. They're hibernating at this time of year, and the surface is thawing. It may not be safe.

Rafal: [scoffs from afar as he turns round a bend, completing his first circuit.] Safe? That's why I froze it over again.

Rhian: You could've harmed the fish!

Rafal: Don't be daft. I didn't. How could they sense our presence if they're dormant? You told me you wanted to skate, didn't you? Well then, wish granted. [He spun on his heels to skate backwards in a shower of ice chips, flung out both his arms to gesture at the lake below, and leaned into a passive-aggressive, obsequiously low bow, before straightening up again.]

Rhian: [firmly] But not here, not over their rightful home. Besides—you can grovel before me [he pauses] and them for forgiveness, another day. [he snipped primly.]

Rafal: You can't be scrupulous about everything in this world, or you'll never get anything done. Now, are you joining me? I gave my undeserving Nevers and that miserable Humburg a holiday today, so we could get out of the tower. [snidely] Or will I get the pleasure of watching the coward slink away from a challenge once again? It's not a good look for Good, you know.

Rhian: [mutters offhandedly under his breath] Wish you'd learn your lesson...

Rafal: What was that? [he calls back as he approaches Rhian at the edge, beginning to skid to a stop.]

[The ice beneath Rafal gives out in that instant and he falls through, into the pitch dark water, with one last gurgled shout, the fish shimmering under the surface, twinkling back at Rhian, dimming as Rafal kicks up sediment.]

Rhian: Nothing. [he said wide-eyed and guilelessly.]

[Rafal resurfaces, coughing up clouded, brackish water, dragging himself back over the edge of the broken ice, and glares up at Rhian.]

Rafal: [menacingly] Tell me, brother. Whyever would that happen, hmm? [he pressures. Yet, the effect is spoiled as he pulls a wriggling, silver-scaled fish from his jacket pocket and tosses it back into the gaping hole.]

Rhian: [hesitates, lips curling for a moment before he gloats:] Told you as much. The ice was bound to fall through. You never listen.

Rafal: [waves a hand dismissively.] Bah! My spell would've held if it weren't for, for—well, I just know you interfered, somehow.

Rhian: [grins, beside himself with mirth, having swallowed a laugh.] Let's get you inside. [He holds out his gloves as a peace offering to Rafal.]

Rafal: [bats them away into a snowdrift.] Don't need them. I'm cold no matter the weather.

Rhian: Inside and out. [he sighs.] Just when I thought you'd grown out of temper tantrums, you double back with twice the force...

Rafal: Can't expect any better from Evil. [he grins and yanks at Rhian's scarf, causing Rhian to stumble forward. Then, he takes off before Rhian can grab him out of the sky by his coattails, flapping stiffly in the chill like tail feathers.] Last one back's got to deal with the pots! [he crows.] And, they're on strike, again, so you ought to polish them.

Rhian: [breaks into a fervid sprint] RAFAL! YOU OLD CHEAT! I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FIG ABOUT WHO'S BACK FIRST—AND YOU WILL POLISH THEM IF I HAVE TO DRAW MY LAST BREATH TONIGHT!

Rafal: NOT A CHANCE IN THIS CENTURY!

Rhian: THEN I'LL WAIT A MILLENNIUM FOR YOU TO ACT YOUR AGE AND LEARN TO KEEP HOUSE!

Rafal: LIKE I SAID, NOT A CHANCE. [he cackles at the prospect in the distance.]

Rhian: IF YOU THINK THAT'S AMUSING, YOUR EAR CANALS MUST BE FULL OF WATER!

This photo from Pinterest provoked a thought in me:

Light is traditionally characterized as good and celestial while darkness is not. And yet, people find refuge in the darkness, how it can be comforting, as an excess of searing light can be blinding. And that reminded me again of Rafal turning into a shadow and Rhian turning into light towards the beginning of Rise and the subversion, of course. (This is sort of an offshoot from my flame versus non-existent shadow/Pans/eternal youth symbolism post and its companion post.) And of how James reacted to each of the brothers' souls: the reassuring, probably less volatile, unchanging quality to Rafal's and the deep-rooted instability of Rhian's.

The reaching motion in the photo also reminded me of a line from TLEA and how Rhian was foiled in being both extreme, strait-laced Good and extremely and throughly Evil—partly because he expended too much effort every time, and never allowed himself the chance to inhabit a natural state of being.

"The more you chase the light, the more darkness you find."

This also happens to relate to an idea I once heard in a class, that people (in general, not the Woods denizens themselves necessarily) consider Goodness the default state of being because Evil cannot produce any Good of its own, nor can it be anything more than the hollow "ape of Good" (or God, in some contexts). All it can do is imitate Good because it lacks all that Good has (the heavenly virtues? Perchance, think: patience versus restlessness?). And thus, Evil is the perversion of being. It is (was, in Rhian's case, as he had no "healthy" outlets for emotional release or catharsis, unlike Rafal's seemingly instinctual violence) deprived of being and parasitic toward the Good.

Also, have more photos from my Pinterest because why not?