Session 57 – With Time

Gar’s got nothin’ against the Gaze!

After deciding what to do with the Pyramid of Bodie, the Brandle’s Refuge site (location of M.M’s supposed “death”), the Saviours Institute for Displaced Children, the  group was taken to by economics leader Braldiann Ovverin to the the in construction Saviours District and went home through the guarded portal. Avon cast geas on the guards who monitored the portal. The gang then had some down time, up to a months’ worth.

Breadgar visited Priscillia, sharing anxieties about the name change request. Breadgar utilised Twain and sending to book an appointment with Justinian.

Drukkor visited Shurikan and promised to help get him out. Shurikan was in the magical holding facility with the new frontier members. They also came across Ruman Talhini who had lost their stoic posture for a more “done with life” attitude. While Ruman Talhini thought he would be remembered for his actions, Drukkor confirmed that “With Time, no one will remember you”.

During the Month, Bruce king hit Hala. While training with the once-cheerful young girl he saw how the cheerfulness had turned stern as  a teenager

The gang also developed a shopping list with Ko’viel, including buying healing points and restoring ki points for Bruce. At the sane time, Gar delt with the Circus in the Scatter Heights district. As reward for taking care of Bearmy, Gar gave Petra the bag of tricks. Along with Gar was Bruce, Drukkor, Avon and Breadgar.

The gang met Axia, a suave and elegant female dwarf nobility agent at the edge of the circus after Bruce had turned into a cloud to scout the bas. Axia told Gar to say the words “tulathee sinompa” to solve their problems. Gar decided to enter the circus with the gang into the main tent where a loxodon, tortodon and tabaxis were de briefing after the shower. Along the side were nobility agents. Gar said the words and instantly the leaders of the circus were put to rest by Axia and the other nobility, avenging Bearmy’s capture.

Juniper finished some potions for the group including a potion that doubles the consumers age, found with ingredients at milf money’s apparent death site and a potion that had bottled lava. Juniper was working tirelessly which Ko’viel noticed. Juniper explained it was in the time they were dead, Juniper had worked tirelessly to keep the milf legacy going. But Ko’viel managed to put her at rest and Juniper opted to go on a vacation to the resort district.

Avon had an awkward conversation with Bobo Nash and Martha, where Bobo Nash hinted at having an interest in Thopters. Avon proceeded to have another awkard conversation with Twain about leading the saviours district, with Avon wanting Twain acting as proxy/representative and Avon being in control. Twain was hesitant. Petra also asked Avon to help her at show and tell as her friends didn’t believe she knew the saviours of Boullini. They visited the school with the teacher Ms. Nightvis and the group went outside by a tree. As Gar solicited the teacher for the bank of orzhov, Avon gave the children seeds of summer which he had also been giving out regularly to the birds at the bird bath.

Gar then proceeded to get pranked one night by the duo Drukkor and Bruce. Emmanuel the treant was the first to catch wind and because of their fey nature, they approved of the prank and did not interfere. Bruce made a mud mould of Bearmy, Drukkor disguised it and added details to it. When they got to Gar’s room, Bearmy was awake. Bruce took Bearmy, although Bearmy was biting hard on his finger. They gave Bearmy the stone tablet which was a remanent of the tomb that had avon’s name on it and took Bearmy into Bruces room. Drukkor cuddled with Breadgar (big spoon). In the morning, Gar woke up to Mud Bearmy being sliced in half. Gar instantly ran out of Milf Money Mansion, followed by an eager Carl as Gar had his sights on the Circus, believing they had done it. Ko’viel woke up, noting to the group Gar is quite stupid and wouldn’t have realised it was a prank. Eventually, Breadgar also woke up and sent a sending to Gar to have him return.

One day, Avon received a message from Princess Titanaia mentioning dire threats at Giaza district Garden (where they met Dreriya) and at the base of the boulliian Spire. At the same time, Titania advised Avon to send Petra to her school by the tree they did show and tell at. As they left, they saw children’s toys litter the streets. When they arrived at the Giaza District, they saw three hags and a dozen or so children sitting in a patch of grass with a wintery portal. Drukkor ran up, knocking out a hag with black hair, Avon destroyed another with a tuff of white hair, Gar eviscerates another with brown hair. The one with black hair revealed herself to be Aunty Gladys, who was following the winter court’s advice. The children were freed, Gladys slayed and the group departed to the boullinian spire.

When they arrived at the central Control District with the boullinian spire, they noticed a weirdness to shadows that seemed as if they were moving congruent with their objects. Guards and animals were also frozen in place. A bright moonlight shone from the spires hole and the group flew down. At the base of the spire, an Archfey dressed in noble attire paced back and forth, revealing that the group weren’t supposed to be here, standing by a pile of toys and bones.

Previously on Milf$:

After deciding what to do with the Pyramid of Bodie, the Brandle’s Refuge site (location of M.M’s supposed “death”), the Saviours Institute for Displaced Children, the  group was taken to by economics leader Braldiann Ovverin to the the in construction Saviours District and went home through the guarded portal. Avon cast geas on the guards who monitored the portal. The gang then had some down time, up to a months’ worth.

Breadgar visited Priscillia, sharing anxieties about the name change request. Breadgar utilised Twain and sending to book an appointment with Justinian.

Drukkor visited Shurikan and promised to help get him out. Shurikan was in the magical holding facility with the new frontier members. They also came across Ruman Talhini who had lost their stoic posture for a more “done with life” attitude. While Ruman Talhini thought he would be remembered for his actions, Drukkor confirmed that “With Time, no one will remember you”.

During the Month, Bruce king hit Hala. While training with the once-cheerful young girl he saw how the cheerfulness had turned stern as  a teenager

The gang also developed a shopping list with Ko’viel, including buying healing points and restoring ki points for Bruce. At the sane time, Gar delt with the Circus in the Scatter Heights district. As reward for taking care of Bearmy, Gar gave Petra the bag of tricks. Along with Gar was Bruce, Drukkor, Avon and Breadgar.

The gang met Axia, a suave and elegant female dwarf nobility agent at the edge of the circus after Bruce had turned into a cloud to scout the bas. Axia told Gar to say the words “tulathee sinompa” to solve their problems. Gar decided to enter the circus with the gang into the main tent where a loxodon, tortodon and tabaxis were de briefing after the shower. Along the side were nobility agents. Gar said the words and instantly the leaders of the circus were put to rest by Axia and the other nobility, avenging Bearmy’s capture.

Juniper finished some potions for the group including a potion that doubles the consumers age, found with ingredients at milf money’s apparent death site and a potion that had bottled lava. Juniper was working tirelessly which Ko’viel noticed. Juniper explained it was in the time they were dead, Juniper had worked tirelessly to keep the milf legacy going. But Ko’viel managed to put her at rest and Juniper opted to go on a vacation to the resort district.

Avon had an awkward conversation with Bobo Nash and Martha, where Bobo Nash hinted at having an interest in Thopters. Avon proceeded to have another awkard conversation with Twain about leading the saviours district, with Avon wanting Twain acting as proxy/representative and Avon being in control. Twain was hesitant. Petra also asked Avon to help her at show and tell as her friends didn’t believe she knew the saviours of Boullini. They visited the school with the teacher Ms. Nightvis and the group went outside by a tree. As Gar solicited the teacher for the bank of orzhov, Avon gave the children seeds of summer which he had also been giving out regularly to the birds at the bird bath.

Gar then proceeded to get pranked one night by the duo Drukkor and Bruce. Emmanuel the treant was the first to catch wind and because of their fey nature, they approved of the prank and did not interfere. Bruce made a mud mould of Bearmy, Drukkor disguised it and added details to it. When they got to Gar’s room, Bearmy was awake. Bruce took Bearmy, although Bearmy was biting hard on his finger. They gave Bearmy the stone tablet which was a remanent of the tomb that had avon’s name on it and took Bearmy into Bruces room. Drukkor cuddled with Breadgar (big spoon). In the morning, Gar woke up to Mud Bearmy being sliced in half. Gar instantly ran out of Milf Money Mansion, followed by an eager Carl as Gar had his sights on the Circus, believing they had done it. Ko’viel woke up, noting to the group Gar is quite stupid and wouldn’t have realised it was a prank. Eventually, Breadgar also woke up and sent a sending to Gar to have him return.

One day, Avon received a message from Princess Titanaia mentioning dire threats at Giaza district Garden (where they met Dreriya) and at the base of the boulliian Spire. At the same time, Titania advised Avon to send Petra to her school by the tree they did show and tell at. As they left, they saw children’s toys litter the streets. When they arrived at the Giaza District, they saw three hags and a dozen or so children sitting in a patch of grass with a wintery portal. Drukkor ran up, knocking out a hag with black hair, Avon destroyed another with a tuff of white hair, Gar eviscerates another with brown hair. The one with black hair revealed herself to be Aunty Gladys, who was following the winter court’s advice. The children were freed, Gladys slayed and the group departed to the boullinian spire.

When they arrived at the central Control District with the Boullinian spire, they noticed a weirdness to shadows that seemed as if they were moving congruent with their objects. Guards and animals were also frozen in place. A bright moonlight shone from the spires hole and the group flew down. At the base of the spire, an Archfey dressed in noble attire paced back and forth, revealing that the group weren’t supposed to be here, standing by a pile of toys and bones.

Short Story This Friday – ‘The Wall’

A short story originally written in response to Trumps potential presidency. It will be released this Friday and can be read for free at christosfloratos.com

Here is an short excerpt:

Outside the wall, the press lined up tenaciously, all with smiles and pens that had run out of ink. Children licked their Mexican flavoured ice creams as they sat atop their parent’s shoulder’s. Those same parents looked happily ahead.

From Christos Floratos “The Wall”

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Year Reflections – Poetry

This year has provided an exciting opportunity to be able to share my writing at a official and published capacity. This is the first of my year reflections post, specifically focusing on me thinking about my poetry this year!

Autumn, That Bastard

‘Autumn, That Bastard’ is my first poetry collection that I have publicly shared. This has been a great opportunity to show and have my poetry be read by anyone at anytime. Not all my poetry will be posted like this, but I wanted something that could be read without having to pay because, like my last poem ‘Stagnation’ hints, ‘fuck capitalism.’

Some  notes about the poems:

  • Authenticity – this poem felt like a great introduction to how I feel about stepping into the world of pseudo-published writing. The structure is also different enough from typical poems to generate initial curiosity into the collection.
  • Leviticus – I keep going back to this poem as one of my favourite poems out of this collection. The last line “No questions? No Question.” is something so powerful that I am so happy I produced. 
  • When Winter is expected – Lily’s death is something that I oddly still think about, even though she was a dog. That sentiment of ‘she is more than just a dog’ resonates throughout the poem, as she was an unforgettable part of my life and the least I could do was immortalise her in this poem.
  • Grey House – This poem originally started as a simple song I tried to write in my early learnings of the Saxophone when I was very young. The points of high I capture in the poem (moving to a new apartment) and the points of low (realising it was for the worst) came from me testing the combination of high and low notes.
  • The Apocalypse Cometh – This poem was written way before I even knew who Greta Thunberg was but now that I am aware of so much more regarding climate politics, to the point I think about the state of our world ecologically every day, this poem only strengthens the warnings that our planet is vulnerable.

Check out all the poems here!

Bubbles

Bubbles was a great collection to help support an organisation I very much appreciated. It was interesting centralising six poems over theme that I did not set. This collection, unlike ‘Autumn, That Bastard’, is exclusively available for those who contributed to my fundraising efforts this year as an incentive and thank you in supporting my efforts.

I felt creating a publication for it was very rewarding but also was a big time commitment I did not expect. Dabbling my foot into this design area has given be a better understanding of what I should be doing in future self-publishing endeavours if I choose that route. If I do not end up doing this, it will at least provide a lot of appreciation of how much it must take for an indie author!

Other Poetry Dabbles:

While not posted, I did work on some other poetry not a part of these two collections. These usually were inspired by some worldly event. It let me reflect on how and when I actually start to write poetry – what my drive is and where I am most likely to come up with poetic prose. Not much of this was at home, in fact, a lot of poetry sprung to me when I was on the go or doing something. I found my poetry routine, of sorts, and doing poetry outside these collections reinforced that this art is something I can work on but also isn’t something to be forced.

However, this is a different with my fiction writing where I take a more structured approach, which was very evident in how I prepared for the Write It Fellowship. More about this on my next blog post, reflecting on my other writing endeavours!

Christoast Update – Honours, Poetry, Future and More! (Spooky Month Update)

It has been a hot minute since I’ve made a blog post, but boy has there been a lot going on in the last few months!

A poetry update:

  • Stagnation, the last poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection will be posted in November.
  • Bubbles, the poetry collection coming out of Pen to Paper, will be finalised and released during November.

Currently what has eaten my time at university has been my honours project. While doing this research project, I am also completing my regular social work degree which as given me limited time for this website and my writing interests. However, there has been interesting strides and currently working on an Ethics Application to conduct the study. The project is about ‘Social work students’ views towards same-sex parenting’ and is a very interesting space indeed!

Another commitment I have started working on related to my university degree is a project for Rainbow Families where we are aiming to express the voices of children of LGBTQI+ parents, in a creative booklet form.

If you follow my twitter, you may see my Dungeons and Dragons is still going strong, with my Homegame now on Session 45. You can check out the wiki I’ve got going for it here.

Road Ahead:

I finish this semester this week and will dedicate more time to my other writing endeavours.

  • Towards the end of November, I will be doing Extra Life once again, the 24 hour live stream charity to raise funds for sick children. All you need to do to support me is to visit the stream, share with your friends and if you are financially able to, support my fundraising efforts!
  • Another writing project after ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ is finished and all Authors Comment sections are done!

And there is still plenty more after that! So stay tuned by following this blog and following my social media below.

With Comfort and Ease (Poem)

By Christos Floratos

Website Version Here

 

How can you tell a gymnast to be careful?

Why, anything but danger would be a little dull.

Scamper up the rope, dribble the pole.

 

Feet ahead; toes curled ready for embrace

              (against the dirt blue).

Performance is our virtue; love is what they grimace.

 

What other purpose is the thrill than to be

Higher than God.

Mt. Olympus has dazed us with aromatherapy.

Oracles scatter seizing our souls.

 

We only commune with the Deadly Seven.

I do not expect the proletariat to understand.

What you share is a pillow,

My offering is more than a simple piggy-bank.

Our stake is within the riptide, wherever it may take us.

 

Perhaps through the vast oceans where the unknown lies;

 we lie.

Though we may ask above, what is below we may never know.

Throw away deaf ears for those bona fide will confide.

 

 

Don’t be afraid to gleam into the light above.

The water is our bed so scream into the pillow.

Vulnerability is our right swipe, fitting as a glove.

 

Though we are frightened of how it leaks,

I trust whatever agenda we both hide,

is so we can dance along the strings of mystiques,

for our skin may be as tough as hide,

and I do not fear the nails of Dominique.

 

Expectation is their gospel verse.

 

We won’t follow their structures laid before.

Abandon the billboards! Dust off their seeds.

A tight hand is laxer than an open casket.

Where we can laugh at our demise,

Sing obtusely and while impulse drives you up.

Sweet Fervour.

Why be afraid of daises, watch me grab them.

© Christos Floratos 2019

Toast Update – WHRA Blog Posts, Pen to Paper Poems Update and Other Things!

Being on a university break has oddly produced the same amount of business than being on placement for four days a week, who would have figured. Recently I have completed a secret project that I am not yet allowed to talk about, to literally like anyone! In the coming weeks I will be finishing and sending off the Pen to Paper poetry collection to donors. As a result of this, my author’s comments sections and What The Heck Am I Rambling About (WHRA) blog posts may have some changes.

Later this week I will be posting the 11th Poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection. Also some updates concerning the end of July.

What The Heck Am I Rambling About Blog Posts!

I will continue to do these and the Author’s comment sections. For ‘In Honour of Summer’, ‘With Comfort and Ease’, ‘The Apocalypse Cometh’ and ‘Stagnation’ these will be released after the last poem (Stagnation) is released. There are two pretty interesting reasons for this. Three of these poems are very interpretative and I love my readers to pull what meaning they desire out of these poems. Also, with my time limitations due to things I’ve been working on, after the collection is released will give me the time to fully write up these sections to write about these poems.

Pen to Paper Poems

The PDFs are on track to completion by Mid-July, where everyone who contributed to the Pen to Paper fundraiser towards my goal shall receive a copy! Those who contributed $50 or more will be getting a physical bound copy. I will be uploading these poems to my site at the start of August for everyone to share, with a link to Story Factory in case you missed out and would like to donate to their wonderful organisation!

Other Things and New Plans

There will be a blog post about some insights from the recent Supanova Convention I attended this last weekend. Also, I find out soon about the fellowship which as gotten me hyped. The end of July will bring the start of a new semester of uni, where I will revert to one blog post a week. I anticipate I will be covering things that have interested me from the units/subjects I am doing.

After August, I will be starting a new exciting fiction project, which will be different from the poetry of the first half of this year! At the end of July, I am also starting an Honours program that I will complete co-currently with my Social Work Degree! I am super excited for what’s coming in the next bit and to share my journey along the way!

In Honour of Summer (Poem)

By Christos Floratos

Website Version Here


After a day or two, it will be gone.

Catch it by the collar while you still can,

or it will wag it’s tail never ending at the thought…

 

The walk that will last forever.

We march on-

So far that you may choose to rest on a bench

-gaze at the incoming storm from the fire afore.

Volcanic ash permits the thunderstorm.

 

Smile, smile.

Remember that smile as

The lightening damsels in the cloud

Closing and closing in. It branches

-All reacting more of the same-

But as dreadful as ash in winter

 

Stand here watching, so it won’t be much of a shock.

Smile, for the road behind was worth it.

Gleam for your childhood and

be joyful for your sins.

 

They have no matter now

as the trees are shaken down

to the core, the root, the soil.

 

From green to blue,

as white as ash.

All colours matter to the sound of grief.

Silence is your virtue in the open as you

cower from the storm.

 

Still, you have marched all this way.

Enjoy the rolling thunder that rocks the dirt.

Aren’t you thankful for what summers brought?

This lighting circling you, appreciate the sky’s glamour!

Why, any other response would kill a god! Maybe two.

 

You’ve marched away from the fire,

Ordained in blacken char carpets are preachers, pillars and podiums.

For a life that once was.

A grotto that wasn’t just dust.

 

Ode to a memory of pollen filled forests.

 © Christos Floratos 2019

‘In Honour Of Summer’ – Poetry Sneak Peek (Autumn, That Bastard)

In Honour of Summer, the 10th poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ poetry collection, will be out Saturday this week!

Next week I find out if I have made it into the Write It Fellowship! I also have an article coming up for the Writing Community Newsletter!

Stay tuned for more!

Crispy Bacon – The Thought That Prompted an Hour-long Conversation

Recently, I worked with a Muslim child to develop a prescription poem in a creative writing workshop. This was one of the things I did in as a part of my social work placement. Prescription poetry similar to what a medical doctor does, prescribes something (medicine usually) to make a person feel better. The kids were tasked with writing lists of things that made them feel good, and you bet there was a lot of fortnite on their lists.

An example list of some eye-catching feel-good every day joys included the sensations linked with smell, spending time with someone they loved and my favorite, sleeping.

On this example list of the class’ feel-goods, was the listing of ‘Crispy Bacon’.

The Muslim child instantly reacted when he saw that listed, citing that he thinks it is disgusting and he’s not supposed to like that. This interaction made me think about whether or not such a workshop, which was presented to a pretty multicultural group of kids, should have had named Crispy Bacon. I sympathised with the kid by saying “Yeah, I can see how you wouldn’t like that. Don’t worry, this isn’t personally for you but rather something anther student wrote.”

This brought up a few interesting ideas, on one hand I thought this listing could be omitted so that cultural safety for the kid could be ensured in case there was offence. On the other hand however, the child will undoubtedly be exposed to this idea in multiple avenues in their life and will need to learn that other people life differently from their own culture. This also touches on issues of censorship within practice.

I came to the conclusion in a school that had a higher percentage of Muslim students, omitting Bacon would probably make a more relatable list. However, omitting it from a group of student’s might make assumptions on their cultural practices. While I myself am not Muslim, I know some aspects about Islamic beliefs and cultural practices. With that said, I am no expert and would always treat whoever I am working with in a social work/human services space as the expert, and I simply the facilitator of their knowledge.

This goes with a workshop like this, which specifically focuses on what the children most enjoy in their lives. This inherently is subjective and even though not eating bacon is a collective cultural practice, it still occurs on that individual level that I should not ever assume. But if they didn’t take part, knowing that others do is a powerful tool to help show diversity of cultural practices in small, every day ways. Since my supervision session and after the workshop in particular, I think it ultimately helped showed a different way of living life, although briefly.

Yes, that supervision session was an hour-long. As a social worker, I feel like being able to unpack micro-interactions like that are a powerful tool in critical reflection. Focusing on a whole interview in reflection is just too much, but focusing on one particularly moment in a client interview helps inform the rest of the interactions and shows how little mirco-skills inform client dynamics. This is something I wish to further explore, how to really think critically for potential other social workers reading.

If you’re interested in more, you can subscribe below and check out some other posts!

Grey House – What the Heck am I Rambling About? #9

‘Grey House’ takes on the persona of a young child who eagerly goes into a new home, an apartment complex, with their mother. Rather quickly, the child becomes exposed to harsh realities and becomes disillusioned with the excitement of moving to a new place, and the conditions that led them there.

What the Heck am I Rambling About is a series of blog posts where I breakdown a work I have created and shared. You can read the poem here if you aren’t caught up!

Someone has commented that these series of blog posts and the Author’s comments section are going to be useful tools for HSC students in the future. A very flattering comment and I think when I did the HSC I would have loved it if the people I was writing about how done a blog series like that. Alas, the prescribed texts were all mostly dead white men.

Set out – almost barefoot. Along my journey

on the cigarette path, I met Crystal, Molly,

was tracked by a Dragon and became BFs with Mary Jane.

Stanza 5

There is only two stanzas that have the optimistic tone, perhaps misguiding the reader due to the child’s curiosity. When the child’s life starts to break down, she becomes systematically disempowered, first starting with the bare necessities such as electricity and then at school by teachers who punish them for being late, not at the fault of the child. Those who the child meets on the way aren’t people but the code names for different drugs. The child being Best Friends with Mary Jane (Marijuana) is a comment of how this unregulated use for people in such fragile states can act as a gateway drug. The reader can take away what that type of relationship would be for a young person. Is Best Friend also someone for life in this instance, denoting a pessimistic point of view that they cannot escape? Or, like a fleeting childhood friendship, will the child escape it eventually?

I had to leave that woman when I came of age.

For she said we’d be home by autumn’s end.

Stanza 6

When I Came of Age” is subjective. Does she mean when she became an adult? Or when the child could legally move on from her mother at the age of 16 (in many western countries)? Or perhaps when she realised when her mother wasn’t good for her. The term Autumn’s end is meant to symbolise that this move was supposed to be a grace period in the mind of the child. The excitement of a new place perhaps shadowed the permanency of such a living situation the child was not ready for. The line also shows that there was a desire to return to the past life, before the Grey House. However, like a great number of cases, this return isn’t always as conceptualised. Referring to her here as that woman is the last time she is given a gendered identity. When the mother becomes labelled as parent at the end, it is revealed that the child still conceptualises somewhat of a caretaker role, but not in the typical narrative of the maternal bonds.

She was neither the executioner nor the criminal

but the wife of the bread-thief.

Stanza 7

Throughout the poem, there’s no direct attack against the mother, just comments about the unruly life. As the child ‘grows up’ they become more aware of her mother’s context. The child expresses sympathy for her mother, which is captured in this line. The metaphor of the bread-thief alludes to their situation, which suggests that her previous father did petty crime to support their family, which has led to the current life. The mother was responsible for the situation or the person who created the situation. In the same way, the child is linked to her mother as they are not responsible. Although neither are deserving of the ‘Grey House’, they both end up in that life, a sad common tragedy experienced by people with similar hardships.

This poem has been heavily inspired by my social work experience. This is perhaps the most tangible of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ collection. To leave you with some thoughts think:

  • What happens now to the girl? What happens to the mother?
  • Is this a cyclical life-event, like the season of Autumn? Or has the child realised their predicament and overcome it?

I hope you enjoyed this rambling and you can find some more ramblings below.