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Botanical Names Part II

Names you can choose for your characters. Taken from the little signs in a botanical garden. So they are names of plants.

Nemophila

Artemisia

Phacelia

Tamarix

Luzula

Alliaria

Wisteria

Actaea

Carlina

Lilium

Inula

Aralia

Prunella

Larix

Magnolia

Daphne

Alyssum

Jacaranda

Achillea

Rosa

Camellia

Nymphaea

Victoria

Acaena

Crassula

Elodea

Adonis

Narcissus

Bellevalia

Calathea

More names!

how do you write a liar?

How to Write Liars Believably

Language

The motive of every goal is the make the lie seem plausible while taking blame off the speaker, so liars will often project what they say to a third party: "Katie said that..."

Referring to third parties as "they" rather than he or she

In the case of a deliberate lie prepped beforehand, there will be an overuse of specific names (rather than pronouns) as the speaker tries to get the details right.

Overuse of non-committal words like "something may have happened"

Masking or obscuring facts like "to the best of my knowledge" and “it is extremely unlikely," etc.

Avoiding answers to specific, pressing questions

Voice

There's isn't a set tone/speed/style of speaking, but your character's speech patten will differ from his normal one.

People tend to speak faster when they're nervous and are not used to lying.

Body Language

Covering their mouth

Constantly touching their nose

fidgeting, squirming or breaking eye contact

turning away, blinking faster, or clutching a comfort object like a cushion as they speak

nostril flaring, rapid shallow breathing or slow deep breaths, lip biting, contracting, sitting on your hands, or drumming your fingers. 

Highly-trained liars have mastered the art of compensation by freezing their bodies and looking at you straight in the eye.

Trained liars can also be experts in the art of looking relaxed. They sit back, put their feet up on the table and hands behind their head.

For deliberate lies, the character may even carefully control his body language, as though his is actually putting on a show

The Four Types of Liars

Deceitful: those who lie to others about facts

2. Delusional: those who lie to themselves about facts

3. Duplicitious: those who lie to others about their values

Lying about values can be even more corrosive to relationships than lying about facts. 

4. Demoralized: those who lie to themselves about their values

Additional Notes

Genuine smiles or laughs are hard to fake

Exaggerations of words (that would normally not be emphasized) or exaggerated body language

Many savvy detectives ask suspects to tell the story in reverse or non-linear fashion to expose a lie. They often ask unexpected, or seemingly irrelevant questions to throw suspects off track. 

“If you tell me, it’s an essay. If you show me, it’s a story.” — Barbara Greene

Day X

CyP

Like anything involving the government, it took forever for he corpos to gain the necessary power to properly influence the government. However, because the government was structured quite solidly, it never became a puppet. Still, what the corpos wanted, the corpos (usually) got, sometimes with caveats, sometimes without. When they wanted a monopoly, the government said, "Keep the prices reasonable." When they wanted children back in the workforce, the government said, "Keep the place safe and clean." When they wanted cheap resources, the government said, "Make it sustainable." But when the corpos said, "Let's make robots," the government turned a blind eye. It seemed they didn't want to have to govern another set of individuals, so they let the corpos handle it.

Of course, the corpos did just that, and the results were unsavory, to say the least. Then the government stepped in because the people started to say something. So the government said, "These androids are sentient beings." And they were, a small part of why the masses had united to relieve their oppression.

But that was it. Classic government blunder. Not clearly defining something and then it gets loopholed to high heaven. That's when the people stepped in. Even if they couldn't stop the corpos or the government, they could control themselves. So they made clubs and special apartments and parks specially catered to androids. Now not all of them were exclusive to them, such as LOVE.EXE.

But some of them were. One such establishment was The Ring. The makings of a corpo, but run by androids and humans, it was special. It was a setup of fighting, winners and losers alike getting paid by enjoyment from the fans. The Ring was funded entirely by donations and tips, trying to remain nonprofit the best they could in the capitalist hellscape they called home.

It was a place HCTR-1770, better known as Itto, frequented. A heavy machine, he was 12 feet tall and three and a half tons, built to haul hundreds of tons on his own. It was a quirk of EGGS. They over-engineered all their products to maximize efficiency and strength and longevity.

He shuffled his feet like he'd seen on TV. His opponent, Boris, was also a mid-weight machine, designed to protect from military encounters. Itto came in close, waiting for Boris to initiate. Boris started with a body shot. Unlike with a human, an android didn't have as many limitations, and thus could fight freely. Replacement parts were cheap.

Itto returned with a blow to the face, knocking Boris' arm down and smashing his knee into his chest. Most fights ended with a concession, but select few ended with shut downs or death. It was to be expected if you went in there and the corpos weren't going to fuss. They'd just make more. For every android that got destroyed in The Ring, hundreds more were made to do that job. It wasn't too big a deal.

Boris grabbed Itto and slammed him into the ground, straddling him and pummelling him without letup. No breathing meant no needing to stop a flurry. Itto kept his face covered, then reached his legs up and flipped Boris over by his head.

Based on this post.

decided to put these in a bit of a chronological order as i can’t help but form a story behind the scenes. it’s a storyteller’s habit. and yeah i do have an idea i would genuinely like to explore with gail simone as a crossover comic. 

i don’t want to be the writer for this. but at the same time i always found diving into these things and exploring the character chemistry was the best way to get an artistic feeling for it.

this is also how i usually develop my own stories.

anyhow, while many think this is me drawing some shipping, in fact this a proof of concept for an adventure story  featuring lara and diana. Gail simone at some point asked if they would kiss and i gave it some genuine thought. i am a character first kind of a writer, myself, so i contemplated this. then i decided, yes, probably.

after all, romantic subplots have been the bread and butter of adventure writing since its inception and i always liked that aspect of adventure stories.

 i hope this puts some things in context from my end XD

and while there will probably be a few more of these, there will be no nsfw pics. after all, camera pans away from indiana jones in those moments as well  XD

okay… there may be a chance of a kiss… but that’s about it. 

Do you ever just start writing and then it's a few thousand words later, and you're just like, 'Where the hell did any of this come from? This was not the plan. Wtf?'

Your parents listed Hades as your godfather as a joke, That would not be an issue if it were not for the 3-headed puppy delivered to your doorstep by Persephone and Hades themselves, planning to protect you from the Olympian’s shenanigans due to Zeus’ bulldickery

Black!Fem!Venom!Reader

Y/N laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't get to sleep, so instead of doomscrolling for the nth time this week, she did what any bored 24 year old would do with a flashlight and comics on the brain. She decided to go solo and investigate the abandoned factory just outside of town.

She peeked over the railing just inside, shining the light at the bottom. She frowned. The ground was not close enough to jump. She pointed the light around, locating dilapidated stairs that led down into inky blackness. At the end of the stairs, Y/n fell, narrowly avoiding tetanus as she grabbed the unstable metal, yelping.

Somehow, in her flailing, she'd kicked the flashlight back into her hand after dropping it. After the shock of not being dead subsided, she pointed the light down. There, the ground looked up at her, almost mocking her with its proximity. She dropped to her feet, the tired stairs creaking, a mere jump away from escape.

Down a hallway glowed something green. Like a horror movie protagonist, she walked toward it. But she did so quietly, keeping the light trained on the darkness ahead. The glowing goo below lit up her walkway, letting her eyes see in the darkness. She turned off her flashlight, having watched too many plots where the flashlight died right when it was needed.

She went down the hallway, the green goo now behind her. A hole let the faint light of the moon in, bathing everything in a twilight blue.

In the corner of her eye, she saw movement, but kept moving, slowly pivoting around the room, flashlight at the ready.

A (black?) goop plopped onto the ground and made its way towards her. The moment she realized it was moving, she bolted, saving her screaming energy for running.

She jumped up to the stairs faster than she would've thought possible. Whipping around a corner, she slipped and dropped the flashlight. She reached for it, but had no time to dwell on the loss as the black goop was right behind her. She bolted up the stairs, hardly keeping her footing on the old stairs, willing them to get her to the top faster than the goop.

She dove through the hole in the wall she'd come in through, barely sparing a glance at the hole to see that the goop had stopped at the concrete.

She gulped in air, watching the goop, before heading home. Y/n would need to get another flashlight. Oh wait, her dad had bought her one when the blackout had happened, giving her a spare. And worst case, she kept her phone charged. She glanced back through the brush, but saw no unusual movement.

When she got back to her apartment, its dark, quiet atmosphere was comforting. She took a shower and noticed a scratch right under her boob. She cleaned it as thoroughly as she could in the shower. Once out, she got some rubbing alcohol, gritted her teeth, and stuck the cotton ball on the wound. Pain threw stars in her vision and she could swear she saw Orion. After about five seconds (which felt like an eternity) she soaked her cloth with warm water and patted the cut before drying and bandaging it.

She put on her pajamas and went to bed.

have you guys done that “what kind of reader are you” quiz and if so what did you get