Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts

31 May, 2019

Horvat's at it again

Under the heading Is the Popular Video Game Fortnite Sinful? (and...what? I mean really, what?), came this:
The video game, Fortnite Battle Royale, is disrupting many a household: Parents tell horror stories of young sons who play it non-stop and suddenly turn violent toward those who oppose their playing.
Okay, so...yes, I have heard of a growing number of cases of "digital addiction", but in nearly every case, it's been kids whose parents pay no attention to them otherwise or young adults, usually in Korea, who have little other social life and get pulled in and sucked down. I am not saying net addiction, game addiction, is false; what I am saying is, if someone has an addictive personality, and games hit them fir st, they're going to be addicted to games. It doesn't matter whether it's Fortnite, PUBG, or Maple Story--the addiction is real.
Each game involves one hundred players who are dropped on a virtual island and shoot each other until a single winner or a team of players has eliminated the other players. The game is offered free of charge, but players can and do buy plenty of helpful accessories in the course of the battle.
Let's define "helpful" here, at least in terms of Fortnight. No item players can buy in the store is anything game-buffing. People who paid for certain packs for the game, or who made certain achievements, can start with a small amount of items that may help in the game-changing sense, but the items actually for sale in the main Fortnight store are all cosmetic. There's a few other arena games that do this too, and I think it's a great trend away from pay-to-win.
Fortnite has been attacked from many angles: Some simply say it is bad for children. Others claim it is highly addictive. The game wastes countless hours better spent in more constructive ways—like homework. And the shoot-and-kill game is undeniably violent and employs profanity.
Sure. It's bright, colorful, simple, and if a child's parents aren't involved in that child's life enough--as in, if they aren't interested in actually parenting their child, listening to their concerns, being open and honest with them--then, sure, Fortnite is an easy out. It doesn't mean that everyone who plays it gets addicted to it.
However, few ask the thorny questions: Is Fortnite sinful? Does it lead to sinful acts? Can playing it be sinful?
You aren't serious. Look, even if someone believes in the base concept of sin, Fortnite doesn't qualify. Note all Christian mortal sins listed in the Bible are sins of covetousness. I want that man's wife. I want that man's cow. I want that man's fine clothing. I want the money that man has. The major, overarching sin in the Bible is wanting a thing, or a person, or a status, deeply enough to steal, lie, injure or kill for it.

Fortnight isn't sinful by that definition.
Someone should be addressing the moral issue.
Why? Or more to the point, why, if, say, a priest hears of a couple who has a digitally-addicted child, why doesn't he find a family counselor for them? Why doesn't he get involved in that family's life and see if the parents are overworked, overwhelmed, just too stressed to cope in any effective way? The game is not the problem. Societal and familial neglect is the problem.
It should at least be the subject of sermons and religious commentary.
Again, why?
And yet the silence surrounding the moral problem of playing Fortnite is absolute. No one wants to touch it.
Because you, Horvat, seem to be the only one who feels this game is sinful, and that the poor kidlings must be protected by almighty faith. Pay attention to the lives of the community, not the games they play, and you'll be much better off.

He followed that up with this: Under the heading What’s Wrong With Video Games?, he wrote:
Are video games harmful in themselves? Do they tear down or elevate our culture? Should they be avoided altogether?
No for the first question. Sometimes both, depending on the game, for the second: Postal comes to mind for the former, and Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice comes to mind for the latter. And no, for the third question.
Most people will agree that “too much” gaming is harmful. Many more will acknowledge that Grand Theft Auto, which glorifies crime, or esoteric and violent games such as The Last of Us, Bioshock Infinite, or Fallout are bad. But the question still stands: How much is too much? How bad is too bad? And what about apparently innocuous games like Angry Birds?
Again, are you kidding? Horvat's blaming Angry Birds for a sinful corruption of society?
Video games are designed to give the player a sense of instant satisfaction. Whenever a virtual goal is achieved, the player gets a rush and tends to want more and more. Gaming presents an imaginary world detached from reality and offers an easy “escape” from the natural limitations humans encounter in this vale of tears. In real life, accomplishment is tied to reality, hard work, effort, sacrifice and talent. But in the make-believe world of video games, you can pretend to be and do things that are completely unrealistic.
Sure. They're called endorphins. You can get them from running, gardening strenuously, working out, hiking, or conversely, by playing games (board and video), discovering new things, and in some cases, even learning--a new language, a new process, a new way of thinking--all of these can potentially be causes for that dopamine rush.

More to the point, though, Horvat, if you're talking about getting rid of everything that causes that endorphin surge, you're going to have to ban all sporting events; all dances; playing music in front of a crowd; READING...And that's just mental on a ridiculous level.
This is further complicated when the person faces problems such as a broken family, depression and addictions. Take the case of Elliot Rodger. This 22-year-old student lived a frustrated life. He despised social interaction, did not have many friends, and became obsessed with World of Warcraft. Rather than overcome his shortcomings, he withdrew and filled the void with gaming and pornography.
Hollllld up there, happy. You sound like you feel sorry for him, the poor waif turned astray by the evils of digital sin. He had problems off and on since he was eight years old, all right? Did you know that, Horvat? Did you even bother to look into it before picking Elliot's name out of a hat?

Elliot Rodgers was broken before he found video games. He was broken before he found pornography. He was raised in wealth, had every benefit of white privilege, was conventionally attractive, and had entry into the upper echelon of his local society. His own personality drove people away. If he'd gone into therapy, maybe he wouldn't have felt he had to try and torture and kill everyone around him. But his family didn't think counseling was appropriate, he probably thought he was better than anything therapy could give him, and deep down, he was a repugnant, bitter, elitist sexual sadist who fantasized about gutting women and men because it would give him ultimate power over them. This was a person who might have been saved if he had reached out and started the process. Don't blame Elliot's descent into despotic madness on video games.
Another problem with video gaming is the tendency to spend inordinate amounts of time doing absolutely nothing meaningful.
Define "nothing meaningful". The Path taught me about the dangers that can lurk in the most innocuous of places. BioShock taught me that the most gentle, soft words can be used to whipscore a programmed mind. Hells, BioShock Infinite, which many fans deplored, taught me the dangers in organized fundamentalist religion (a lesson, to be fair, I already knew), and how easy it is to treat anyone different from ourselves as both Other, and non-human. Minecraft taught me building as meditation.

And there are so many other examples. Are there big, sprawling MMORPGs whos only point is grinding for levels and achievements? Sure. But there are also little games, thought experiments, and again, do you think anything that is not work for hands or worship in a holy house useless? Because if you do, there goes sports again, gardening for the fun of it, amusement parks, reading, book and poetry clubs, wandering rose gardens, English gardens, tea gardens... what is of value to our lives? What brings us joy? For some people, gaming does that. There is nothing wrong with choosing joy.
But what is the point of engaging in a pastime that has no palpable goal, no real accomplishment and no deeper meaning? Since the purpose of gaming is undefined, players often find themselves compelled to play more and more.
Figures Horvat would be the type to view ever treading upward on the Apollonian path a good thing. Not everything has to have a goal. Hells, not everything has to have a beginning, in terms of activities, or an end, we can just pick up in the middle and carry forward. What's wrong with that?
According to a study featured in Neurology Now, a publication of the American Academy of Neurology, nine out of ten American children play video games--about 64 million. The study found that "excessive gaming before age 21 or 22 can physically rewire the brain."
You're not wrong, early studies do seem to indicate that, though more research is needed before it's a firm conclusion.
"Playing video games floods the pleasure center of the brain with dopamine," says David Greenfield, Ph.D., founder of The Center for Internet and Technology Addiction and assistant clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of Connecticut School of Medicine. That gives gamers a rush--but only temporarily, he explains. With all that extra dopamine lurking around, the brain gets the message to produce less of this critical neurotransmitter. The end result: players can end up with a diminished supply of dopamine.
As I mentioned earlier. If one is predisposed to addiction, or in some cases, depression, where dopamine is naturally reduced, then sure, gaming could prove a 'fix' that is similar to some drugs. And the more someone in that state plays, the more they want to play, because they want that same rush. Here's the important point: this doesn't describe everyone. Should peanut farmers stop growing peanuts because a portion of the population is sensitive? Should wheat fields be short because celiac disease exists?
For the welfare of children, South Korea has regulated the use of video games, treating them like drugs or controlled substances.
True, but South Korea has a radically different culture from ours. First, they have a huge gaming industry, from consoles to computers to smartphones. Games are quite literally everywhere, thick on the ground. Second, Horvat, do you know abut net cafes? Over here they're mostly Starbucks that offer WiFi, but in South Korea, someone can walk in, pay for eight hours, and play the game of their choice for that entire time. One man played until he died from dehydration; he payed for something like two weeks and the cafe let him do that. So who do we blame then? The man who booked that time? The owners of the cafe who never cared to stop him? Or the game? He would have been just as dead if he'd gone down some back alley and purchased a week's worth of black tar heroin, and shot it up all at once. We can definitely blame him for buying the time to game; we can definitely blame the owners of the cafe. But we cannot blame the game; at best, it was a contributing factor to an existing addictive personality who was already descending.
There are countless cases of violence and crime connected directly or indirectly with video gaming. Grand Theft Auto, for example, has created a long death trail in its wake. However, few have had the courage to call its designers and promoters to task, halt its production and reverse the severe damage it has unleashed. Here are only some of the many crimes connected to Grand Theft Auto:
  1. A man was stabbed and his copy of the game was stolen;
  2. A college student stole a car, kidnapped a woman and slammed into nine parked vehicles. He said he wanted to play the game "in real life";
  3. A teenager in Thailand killed a taxi driver in a copycat crime from the game (Thailand banned the game afterwards);
  4. An 8-year-old boy in Louisiana shot and killed his 90-year-old caregiver minutes after playing the game (this was ruled a homicide);
  5. Students as young as six acted out drug and rape scenes from the game.
How very hyperbolic. Let's take these incidents in order.

The first one, that is theft. That is less about playing the game and needing to commit violence because of it, and more because that individual did not have the game and wanted it. By your own holy book, that's covetousness again. That's nothing to do with gaming. Same man could have been robbed and killed for his watch, for his cash, just because someone hope he'd have something worth selling for drugs.

Second, that story was turned into an episode of Law and Order: SVU. Again, the characters inspired by that story, and the actual man that the story was based on, had both lost touch with reality. If he hadn't had the game to give him the sick thoughts to enact 'for real', it would have been something else. Do video games explain every school shooting, every assassination attempt? Tell that to Lincoln.

Third, Thailand. Thailand takes a very dim view of gaming, or anything that does not directly benefit the culture. Gays are still beaten just for being gay there. I have no problem with their banning the game, as they are a strictly controlled society. I would have a problem in a culture that had more permissive rules.

The eight-year-old. Absolutely, this was a crime. A crime I think hinges on the "intentional" mention. Where did he get the gun? I'm assuming he already had it with him, or hidden nearby, which means this was premeditated. Again, the playing of the game made the death fantasy easier, but by no means caused it. That boy wanted to kill someone. Any trigger could have set him off.

And the last one is just incidental as well. Children who have never played video games have gotten the awful idea to rape their friends, or random little girls; to beat a boy's head in with a pipe and set the body on fire; hells, we can even bring up the Slender Man attempted murder in this light. In all cases these were people mentally unstable enough to consider it, decide on it, and bring it to fruition. No game needed.

There is a chapter in an excellent treatise on horror in literature and cinema by Stephen King, Dance Macabre, that goes into how often murders were committed by people reading his books, where the assailants said they'd gotten the idea from his books. Again, no games needed. And also again, no books needed--they just happened to be what the killers picked up before they decided to kill. It could have been a breakup letter that drove them off the edge. A phone call that went wrong. Something they didn't like on TV. The smell of the air. Unstable people don't really need a cause--they need that one last thing, that last straw, to hit them, before the rampage begins. We can't guard against people like this without being much more invested in mental health, and de-stigmatizing mental health. And that's nothing you want, is it, Horvat, when you can just blame video games instead?

I'm done with this. He's wrong, and shrill, and becoming repetitive. I'm done.

21 February, 2018

I got a brand new house on the roadside, made from rattlesnake hide

This is a bad idea. Making it easier for spammers to include malicious code in emails is never wise.

This was a worse one--in the middle of an opiod epidemic, paying advocates to push opiod deregulation would easily lead us where we are now.

There is now a Tomb Raider Barbie. I'm...honestly not sure how I feel about this. But on the plus side, yay for non-blonde, non-Aryan Barbies! Woo!

This is the best apology I've seen this year. Kudos to them.

Finally, if anyone plays Grand Theft Auto V, just log in before the 29th of February and receive a tidy amount of in-game cash. It won't make anyone rich beyond dreams, but hey, it could ease the way a bit.

14 May, 2008

if life won't wait, I guess it's up to me

I first knew there was a problem when I couldn't take my AO box back, from where it sat (and still sat, up to nearly half an hour ago) on the ground of our Morgaine sky studio. An hour and a half later, of frustratedly trying to take my AO back, or attach another AO, or in fact retrieve any prim I'd set out or made...

At this point? I was waiting for the Lindens to tell us what we already knew--that the grid, in particular the asset server system, was failing again.

[21:22] You: Oh....drat.
[21:22] You: It's saying, it can't reset the scripts now, there aren't any.
[21:23] Fawkes Allen: You're missing one
[21:23] Asset server didn't respond in a timely fashion. Object returned to sim.
[21:23] Fawkes Allen: The Interface is there
[21:23] Fawkes Allen: Not the core
[21:23] You: Hell
[21:23] You: We're having asset server issues again
[21:23] Fawkes Allen: And there it is
[21:23] Fawkes Allen: Now try
[21:24] Asset server didn't respond in a timely fashion. Object returned to sim.
[21:24] Fawkes Allen: Well now...
[21:24] You: This?
[21:24] You: Not good


And it wasn't. I couldn't attach any AO I owned. I couldn't attach *any* version of an AO; I couldn't even change my shoes.

[21:30] Asset server didn't respond in a timely fashion. Object returned to sim.
[21:31] You: Ooookay.
[21:31] Emilly Orr glares at the AO on the ground
[21:31] You: Bastards. They *said* they fixed this. They LIED!


I mean, okay, maybe they genuinely felt the two-hour total grid shutdown and reset would fix the problem. I have no way of knowing.

All I know is, when it failed, it failed. Things stopped rezzing. One woman was stuck, unable to transport; a friend tossed her a port to get her free; she ended up one thousand meters up, with nothing underneath her but air.

And her flight scripts failed. She had the wonderful experience of plummeting from great height to the ground.

[21:36] You: Right, then.
[21:36] You: No AO for tonight.
[21:37] Unable to create requested object. Please try again.
[21:37] Unable to create requested object. Please try again.

[21:37] Fawkes Allen: No nothing for tonight


And then the confusing drop-down messages started. This was the first one:

[21:41] Second Life:

I'm not kidding. A blue drop-down system update that just said: Second Life:.

No, really.

Photobucket

Then, not that far later:

[22:02] Second Life:

It said it again.

Eventually, someone at the Labs got the notice system to work, and nearly an hour later, we got this message:

[22:57] Second Life: Logins are Linden-only while Operations repairs the asset system. Please do not attempt valuable transactions, and watch http://status.secondlifegrid.net for updates.
[22:57] Fawkes Allen: An actual message!
[23:01] You: Hmm
[23:01] You: Is this an improvement?


I wasn't entirely convinced it was. But this is a measure of addiction, or devotion, or insanity...maybe all three...many of us stayed in. Gritting our teeth the entire time, but we were hoping they'd find a way to fix things.

Then came something I don't think I'd ever read before--a message from the Lindens, unsigned, that sounded rushed, panicked, and apologetic. Interesting...

[23:30] Second Life: Ok we think we've figured out what the problem was that was keeping the asset cluster from coming back up after crashing. We're gonna check a couple more things and reboot the cluster one more time to make sure it's stable; please continue to refrain from transactions until we shout the all clear.
[23:32] Emilly Orr laughs hysterically


And, not very long at all, all things considered, after that--they called the All Clear:

[23:47] Second Life: [ALL CLEAR] Logins are open and the asset system is stabilized.
[23:48] Emilly Orr tries to take her A0 back


Well, I was able to take my AO back. That was the good news.

The bad news? What I spent the next ninety minutes of my life doing: namely, completely rebuilding my AO from scratch with a new case, new scripts, and the remaining poses and animations I was able to transfer over.

That's two AO losses I've suffered when the asset server section went tits-up.

But they say it's fixed now.

We'll see how long it lasts...

10 September, 2007

I wandered through fiction to look for the truth, buried beneath all the lies

((RP MODE))

Valruna is dying. We can feel it. As the phouka rests and I walk in her skin, still I can pick up on her emotions, her ties to this land. And as I walk here, it makes even me shudder at the change.

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The spell wrought by unknown forces has now changed the very ecology of the land, in frightening ways. Where there was earth, pale sand is seen now. Where there were arching canopy trees, dotted with small homes of the fluttering fae, there are palm trees, split leaves fluttering under the brilliant blue sky.

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This body is tired, but I force it climbing. There must be something here, some magic left, somewhere...in all this...this...mundanity. I ascend to the summit, pass a group of stones and a spell barrier that means less than nothing, and find home, for the little shifter.

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Only....it's not...what it was. The trees feel...disconnected, impossible, I walk through them as if they're not there, or touch them and feel nothing. Even as deeply asleep as I am fighting to keep the phouka, she is wailing at the loss of the trees.

This is not good.

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There is water through the land and I disbelieve it. There are trees and glowing fungus and I doubt my eyes. I push the phouka down and I begin to doubt my own sanity.

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It is manifest, this understanding in me. We no longer belong here.

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But now the hard decisions come. I am not the phouka, I cannot live her life for her, and for all that I wanted to, at one time...my demon lord is gone, as is hers, and the sithen is missing, and the Court is scattered beyond repair.

When there is no hope, I have been told, go to the place where hope died last.

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I never thought I'd say this...but it's good to be home.

If my chosen hell cannot break this addiction in her...cannot bring her back from the madness she finds herself in...then at least she'll be in good hands.

Well.

Maybe not good...

19 July, 2007

is there anything alive now, this darkness is what I hear (part II)

((RP MODE))

So it started with the girl.

A while before I'd all but fallen onto her porch, I'd reacquainted myself with the young man from the Eastern lands I'd met, before I'd been locked away on the dreaming isle. In one sense I was astounded he remembered me at all; but in the other sense, I always had to remember that as long as it had been for me, it had been a very much shorter time for everyone else.

I searched for the Captain of the Ravens, my lost half-Drow love, and received only intermittent mental contact, no sense of place, not a thing that could aid me in cleaving to his side again. Plus, I wasn't entirely sure I wished to, because for me, it had been so long...

Then came what, to me, was the crushing blow: I went to Valruna, stood in the village square, and called for him, and...he would not see me. That night, I needed to see him, I needed to, hard-edged in me, the resurgance of succubus drives after long trial, and...he refused. He refused. He turned me aside with a cavalier amusement and an invitation to come see him anon.

I did what I felt I had to--I fled to the young man from the Eastern lands, and he proposed an...alliance, of sorts. He would feed me, feed every desire in me--surging energy, sensual bliss, blood--and in return, his demon within would feed from me.

I thought I looked at every angle. I thought I understood. I thought I was making a rational, reasoned decision.

I was wrong.

He'd mentioned addiction, this young lad. I'd been addicted once, previously, to the demon within the third incubus. I thought--hard as it was--if I really needed to rip the addiction out of me, full-formed, I could. And in the meantime, I'd have what I want.

Right?

Maybe not so.

The morning I'm thinking of, I was spending time at the fire of the gypsies' camp, and there was a very worried damsel, worried over her friend in the tent behind me. In general, I'm not a gypsy, I don't look in their tents--but she started screaming for the healer, and I had this vague impulse I might be able to help. So I rose from the fire, walked over to the tent--and was struck dumb by febrile red glow.

It was the girl in the red dress. But now trembling, shaking, and fairly completely unaware of her surroundings.

It had been some few days since the last time I was fed. I hoped to see the lad that evening, but--I couldn't turn away. As they screamed for aid, undressed her, drew a cool bath in the large wooden tub--I drifted over, lifting the woman's arm, thumb rubbing over her pulse, thinking. I tried sending my consciousness out, around hers, into hers, and was blasted by unheard-of levels of pain, rage, anger, outright hate. What in all the hells was going on here??

Her friend leapt into the bath, holding her out of the water so she wouldn't sink to the bottom and drown. She wanted to die; that much I'd gotten. I didn't know how much I could help freeing her of a death wish, and I began to ask her for permission to help. The healer arrived, took one look at her, sneered at the 'demon' in the midst, made some harsh comment about the vampire in the camp, and I knew two things, with clear surety:

1. If I bit the girl, to help her heal, it might get me staked; and

2. If I used any of my succubus skills, she might very well kill me anyway. Just on general principle.

I admit, I was frozen. And hungry, and getting hungrier. And it didn't help that it would have been so easy, so easy, to lean down, open a vein, and drink...

I shuddered with it, watching as the woman of the Rom debated various things, the healer obdurately proclaiming she needed more time to come up with a solution. Finally, a healing circle was called, and again, I felt I couldn't turn away.

I joined it, but rather than send my energies out in link with the other women, I sent my energies into her, trying to draw out that pool of red anger, black loathing, I'd felt in her. It nearly overwhelmed me, and the pull of her was riptide--so much of my energy sank into her, trying to free her from emotional pain, even as the others tried to purge her of fever.

I shuddered as the circle fell, staggering to the fire, spending enough time to know I could walk off on my own, and then realizing, if I did, I'd just find the nearest warm body and drink them dead. And I...couldn't. Not now. Bad precedent, I'd told the healer, to start a day by killing, and I still agreed.

I worked my way high into the hills to an abandoned keep, finding a crack in the wall and crawling into the mountain, slowing my breathing and pulling in everything I could...and spent several hours trying not to think.

The first contact I had from the Eastern lad I nearly leapt on him, mentally--and he agreed to see me. I crawled out of the riven cleft in the land, at that time, I thought, scraping my back, causing odd pains and shivers through me, as I went. I fled to his side, begging him to take me, feed me, and--that's when everything skewed.

He threw me on the bed, the demon within him, and while I was struggling, the odd pain in my back getting worse, he tied me down. I was too distracted to fight him, and he plunged into me without a further word, offering me his neck. I nearly tore it open, feeding as if I'd die without him, and thought never another thing until a savage pain tore through me, tearing down the length of my spine, drawing screams that were anything but pleasure cries. I begged him to turn me over, because I hurt, it hurt, and I couldn't understand--

He untied me, the lad from the Eastern lands, the demon receding, and turned me over, stroking down my back--and it split under his hands, thick, pale tendrils forcing themselves out, glistening, waving in the air. I didn't know this then--I knew it later, when he placed his hands on one, moving it down into my range of view.

Now, my succubus has always had an odd manifestation--invisible tendrils, thin as reeds, able to entice, skin to skin, able to drain energy, sinking through skin, but all intangible, unseen. These were not unseen. These aren't unseen, though I can hide them.

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Even hidden from open view, those who can see energy can see them, trailing from me. They are with me always.

The lad from the Eastern lands...says I'm evolving.

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By all the gods and all the hells...into what?!?

is there anything alive now, this darkness is what I hear (part I)

((RP MODE))

It started with the girl.

I can't start there, really, I should tell more of the tale, but...for me, it started with the girl. Everything before was just...what happened before, the days in the life, turning into months, and years, and decades...

You see, when I left Lumindor, my heart was broken. The lands I loved had changed; the rulers I'd tacitly obeyed had turned their back on anyone not mortal within their purview. It felt...hopeless, and endless, and...lost.

My Queen knew I was unwell, and took me to a lovely island. It truly was, a stunning place--flower-bedecked pathways, an underwater grotto for swimming, a quaint and ancient graveyard, a dark brooding cathedral. She pointed out the elegant details, room after room of fine attire, and bid me stay and heal.

What I did not realize was when she left...I couldn't. And I couldn't for many, many years.

At first I raged against it...I mean, really, how dare she, ruler or not, take all my choice away? I was not her servant, I was her courtier, her phouka, on occasion her chosen emissary, consort to the Captain of her Raven Guard...

...the rage lasted a good ten years. And I was still stuck.

I swam in the grotto, experimenting with various forms; I explored the shoreline, the cathedral, the graveyard. I discovered secret passages and sunken gazebos and dark towers and meditation spaces. I tried on all the clothes.

That took another ten years.

After that, I started thinking. Why had things gone so bad in Lumindor? Oh, I knew the base of it--political upset, human-first thinking, a score of backbiting back and forth, a traitor in the high court--sure, that much was obvious. But my end of it, you see...I wondered if I had made life harder for my Court, and my Queen...had I made life harder for those who cared for me, like my half-Drow love, like others I cared for? How did my behavior affect them?

That took twenty years, twenty long years, thinking every day, trying to learn, testing out my behavior, going a little mad from hunger, from personal pain, from doubt, from confusion...day after day after day of had I been wrong?

The last ten years I spent on the island were easy, by comparison. Thin as a wraith, eyes haunted, focusing on a set few shapes instead of the multiplicitous profusion I'd favored before, but soul...if one counts the Sidhe as having souls...mostly at peace. I'd forced the fledgling within to reach an accord, and we mostly operated in concert; Lilit and I as a unit, not two fighting spirits trapped in the same flesh.

And fifty years to the day that my Queen had conveyed me to the lovely little aisle...the spell lifted and I was free. I took a ship I'd built in my spare time and ferried it to the nearest section of mainland I could find, and set out to discover how life had changed for all those I'd left behind.

The second surprise was waiting. Only a few months had passed in the world, while I'd been locked far away, wrestling with my ethics and my inner demon. Startling, the realization; somehow worse, to note that few noticed my absence. Fifty years of my days, fifty long, eternal nights; every face I saw still remembered mine, who'd known it before.

And Lumindor still tottered on, though in my absence, Valruna had flourished, the lands now belonging to my former employer, and once adviser to Lumindor's King. She'd extended me--all of the Unseelie Court--an invitation to her realm, but I hadn't taken it...though I did begin to think about it.

I heard from the Captain, his mental voice febrile and unnerving. I heard from a gentle soul I'd nearly forgotten, possessor now of a demon of long-ago acquaintance; he also bid me come to Valruna. I heard from a monk I thought had long forgotten me, urging me to come to the land.

What could I do, so many voices tugging at me? I went. And I wandered, and looked my fill, and....it was so very like my lost Lumindor, the wilds I'd treasured so fiercely...I was not guardian of these lands, but they accepted me, and I walked where I willed, learning, exploring...watching.

I found the camp of the gypsies, and it felt like home. It felt more like home than the Court did, nearly more like home than my lost tree next to the little pond in the wilds. I spent many days there, talking with Rom I'd known and those I didn't, learning about the land, its rulers, the factions, the people.

One night, I told myself, I would wander corner to corner, shoreline to swell of hill, and see what could be seen. I'd climbed for an hour up the very steep side of a mountain sharp as dragons' teeth, when I slipped, half-sliding, half-falling, down the incline to the tower keep below. I quickly hid, hissing over scraps on my arms and legs that already beaded with blood, when I saw a dark figure, and a bright one, move within the structure.

The dark one swirled with an energy alien to my perceptions, but also one I'd known before--the third incubus I'd ever met, he'd felt like that, he'd nearly...looked like that, and I watched him, confused. But if he with his black skin and tendrilled wings was a sight to see, the woman stalking past my position was enough to make him look plain in comparison.

It wasn't that she was pretty; of course she was. Of course she was a vision; pale skin, cloud of pale hair, a red dress cut close to every curve she had. But more than that, she glowed; and by that, I mean she radiated her own scarlet light, throwing rose shadows on the walls of the keep, glittering from her skin, the strands of her hair, her dress.

She stalked past me, and I could barely breathe, watching her, and they both left for the village, and I...I followed. I followed as they went to the castle of the Queen, and I snuck as close as I could to where they stood, to listen. I was so intent on what they said, it was only the sound of swords leaving scabbards that drew my attention away.

And it was a lovely bit of confusion, explaining my actions to four suspicious wood elves, and then all over again to the Queen above, as the argument had attracted her attention...but all was sorted, and off everyone went. And I thought that was the end of it, until two days ago, when I saw the radiant one again.

So...as I said, it started with the girl...

(to be continued)

it's just your shadow on the floor

(This section was written on July 11th...) Great. Sat myself down today after oversleeping, and told myself sternly I was not going to log...