Tak! quoted City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky
It’s always the uprising tomorrow. Only when tomorrow becomes today, the uprising stays tomorrow. Convenient that way. It’s like always having the dinner but never needing to wash the dishes.
I like to read
Non-bookposting: @Tak@glitch.taks.garden
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It’s always the uprising tomorrow. Only when tomorrow becomes today, the uprising stays tomorrow. Convenient that way. It’s like always having the dinner but never needing to wash the dishes.
She didn’t care about the turkey, but she did mourn the lack of extra money; 1994 was going to begin on a downward spiral.
ahahaha nice en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Downward_Spiral
Never let fear control you: rage will be your shield. Forge an armor out of anger and bile.
daily affirmations
An engorged, yellow moon painted the sky a sickly amber hue, illuminating a solitary figure.
Blade of Dream is a very good sequel to Age of Ash. Instead of continuing the events from the previous book, it tells the story of different characters during the same time period. There are only a few points where events overlap, so it doesn't give that "ugh, I'm just reading a different flavor of the same story again" feeling that you can get from this approach.
I found it especially interesting that one of the main characters in Blade of Dream was a very marginal character in Age of Ash that one of the narrative characters had dismissed as a silly girl with no real agency (and thus the reader implicitly seeing her that way as well), and seeing the stark contrast here.
I think there was a papermakers’ brotherhood once, but it got folded into one of the larger guilds
ahah. hahahaha.
Strict etiquette was that she should take a hand carriage or palanquin to save people in the street from having to bow.
…huh. That never occurred to me, I wonder if that was ever a consideration IRL in feudal times.
Based on the company it keeps hachyderm.io/@molly0xfff/113766219774899936
I’m hungry for something, and I don’t know what it is. I want. I want badly, and I don’t know what I want.
oof
In the course of a single life, a man can be many things: a beloved child in a brightly embroidered gown, a street tough with a band of knifemen walking at his side, lover to a beautiful girl, husband to an honest woman, father to a child, grain sweeper in a brewery, widower, musician, and mendicant coughing his lungs up outside the city walls.
I checked twice during the prologue that I hadn't opened the wrong book by accident.
Welcome to the Grand Abeona Hotel: home of the finest food, the sweetest service, and the very best views the …
Mostly, people were liquid; great bags of pulsating liquid held together by a perilously thin membrane of skin, electrified with just enough thoughts to provide the illusion of sentience.
A dagger of exposed bone sprung from either temple.
when the author has never seen a cow
Carl was twelve years old the first time he laid eyes on the Grand Abeona Hotel.
This is eldritch horror without the Cthulhu. It is weird and obscure and extremely obsessed with architectural minutiae. It rambles quite a bit in the middle, but that's honestly consistent with the tone of the world.