Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

Mom just texted me about a post on facebook from a friend of ours, where he was saying something about very stiff neck and sore throat. That post was three hours ago, and he got several people telling him to go get medical attention immediately, but there’s been nothing else since.

I’m worried, and until there’s something saying he’s still alive, that he’s ok, that he’s getting better, I’m going to keep worrying, because those symptoms? Can be symptomatic of meningitis. (There may have been other stuff in the post that also made that interpretation of the symptoms likely; I don’t do facebook, so I haven’t seen to be sure.)

Edit: And good update, there has been medical attention, and the diagnosis is a pinched nerve. *relaxes some* Did not need that worry today.

(Leaving the post as is otherwise, because while more than one lesser thing probably has those symptoms, the potential of lethal consequences if there is brain inflammation/meningitis are high enough that if someone sees this and gets medical care promptly which means they are alive and not dead? Yeah.)

Mini Nano Day 2

morgynleri:

A continuation from yesterday’s, because Margaret is stubborn and Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to not poke the cranky misplaced people.

Fandom: 15th Century RPF, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
AU: Blade of the Force
Word Count: 459
Characters: Margaret of Lancaster | Margaret Princess of Wales (OC), Owen Tudor, Thomas Beaufort, John Holland | Earl of Huntingdon, Richard Nevile, Obi-Wan Kenobi

“Hello there.” His words hold an accent that is unfamiliar, and another reminder that wherever they are, it is far from home.

“Good day to you.” Margaret sheathes her sword with a small grimace for the blood still on it. That will be an unpleasant chore, to clean the scabbard as well as the blade, but better than to have an unsheathed blade when speaking in what she hopes will remain peace. “What is this place?”

A small frown crosses the stranger’s face before it is swiftly replaced by a bright, charming smile. Margaret tenses, her shield coming up slightly as if she might defend herself against whatever might come next with it.

“I don’t know, other than somewhere on this miserable planet, near one of the few settlements of scum and villany.”

The horses are well-trained, and only Owen’s stamps a hoof as their riders tense. Margaret narrows her eyes at the stranger, clenching her shield hand in a tight fist a moment before forcing herself to loosen it before her horse does more than twitch under her.

“And your name, priest?”

“Obi-Wan.” His lips twitch a moment, his eyes bright with some amusement that Margaret suspects is at her expense. “What is yours, vod?”

“Her Grace, Margaret of Lancaster, Princess of Wales, and your better.” Thomas’s voice is harsh with annoyance, speaking before Margaret can answer.

“Peace, my lord Beaufort.” Margaret glares at her cousin, though she doesn’t take her attention entirely off Obi-Wan. A strange name, to be sure, and she’s not sure what he called her, though it could as easily have been a complement as an insult with as pleasant a tone as he had used. Or so she’ll assume, if she can use that possibility to keep her cousins and Owen from doing something foolish.

“Perhaps he is unfamiliar with the arms of England, and thus could not have known.” She keeps her voice low as she continues. “And I’ll not have you perhaps starting a battle when we know so little about the terrain and the people who may be here. There could be very many men-at-arms within that thing, and we are few and strangers here.”

“And your companions, your grace?” Obi-Wan’s smile hasn’t faded, and it’s beginning to make Margaret’s skin itch.

“Beaufort, Holland, Neville, and Tudor.” Margaret can see no recognition in Obi-Wan’s expression at the names of her companions, though as she’d not seen him so much as glance at the shields which bear their arms, it is unsurprising.

A chirp comes from Obi-Wan’s belt before he can do more than nod, and Margaret’s eyes widen as he takes something from it, and speaks to it, as if it might speak back. Too quiet to carry to her, but at least whatever is being said makes his smile fade away. He has a brief conversation before he puts whatever it is back into a pouch on his belt, smiling at them once more.

“Your Grace, may I offer you and your companions the shelter of our ship?”

Margaret is already becoming uncomfortably warm in her armor from the suns, and they are still low in the sky. Shelter from their light would be good, for them all.

“You are gracious, my lord Obi-Wan, and I accept.”

“Just Obi-Wan, please, your grace.”

Historical Note:

I’ll need to relocate where I’ve seen this, but the use of “Your Majesty” for kings and queens and “Your Highness” for princes and princesses isn’t in fashion in the early 14th century, and the most useful and likely address is “Your Grace”, at least for the monarch.

And even if I’m not recalling things entirely correctly, “Your Grace” still works better in this context than the more familiar “Your Highness”. Especially once we get into multiple royals in one room, and no one is using their names to address them.

Next day reblog

Mini Nano Day 2

A continuation from yesterday’s, because Margaret is stubborn and Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to not poke the cranky misplaced people.

Fandom: 15th Century RPF, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
AU: Blade of the Force
Word Count: 459
Characters: Margaret of Lancaster | Margaret Princess of Wales (OC), Owen Tudor, Thomas Beaufort, John Holland | Earl of Huntingdon, Richard Nevile, Obi-Wan Kenobi

“Hello there.” His words hold an accent that is unfamiliar, and another reminder that wherever they are, it is far from home.

“Good day to you.” Margaret sheathes her sword with a small grimace for the blood still on it. That will be an unpleasant chore, to clean the scabbard as well as the blade, but better than to have an unsheathed blade when speaking in what she hopes will remain peace. “What is this place?”

A small frown crosses the stranger’s face before it is swiftly replaced by a bright, charming smile. Margaret tenses, her shield coming up slightly as if she might defend herself against whatever might come next with it.

“I don’t know, other than somewhere on this miserable planet, near one of the few settlements of scum and villany.”

The horses are well-trained, and only Owen’s stamps a hoof as their riders tense. Margaret narrows her eyes at the stranger, clenching her shield hand in a tight fist a moment before forcing herself to loosen it before her horse does more than twitch under her.

“And your name, priest?”

“Obi-Wan.” His lips twitch a moment, his eyes bright with some amusement that Margaret suspects is at her expense. “What is yours, vod?”

“Her Grace, Margaret of Lancaster, Princess of Wales, and your better.” Thomas’s voice is harsh with annoyance, speaking before Margaret can answer.

“Peace, my lord Beaufort.” Margaret glares at her cousin, though she doesn’t take her attention entirely off Obi-Wan. A strange name, to be sure, and she’s not sure what he called her, though it could as easily have been a complement as an insult with as pleasant a tone as he had used. Or so she’ll assume, if she can use that possibility to keep her cousins and Owen from doing something foolish.

“Perhaps he is unfamiliar with the arms of England, and thus could not have known.” She keeps her voice low as she continues. “And I’ll not have you perhaps starting a battle when we know so little about the terrain and the people who may be here. There could be very many men-at-arms within that thing, and we are few and strangers here.”

“And your companions, your grace?” Obi-Wan’s smile hasn’t faded, and it’s beginning to make Margaret’s skin itch.

“Beaufort, Holland, Neville, and Tudor.” Margaret can see no recognition in Obi-Wan’s expression at the names of her companions, though as she’d not seen him so much as glance at the shields which bear their arms, it is unsurprising.

A chirp comes from Obi-Wan’s belt before he can do more than nod, and Margaret’s eyes widen as he takes something from it, and speaks to it, as if it might speak back. Too quiet to carry to her, but at least whatever is being said makes his smile fade away. He has a brief conversation before he puts whatever it is back into a pouch on his belt, smiling at them once more.

“Your Grace, may I offer you and your companions the shelter of our ship?”

Margaret is already becoming uncomfortably warm in her armor from the suns, and they are still low in the sky. Shelter from their light would be good, for them all.

“You are gracious, my lord Obi-Wan, and I accept.”

“Just Obi-Wan, please, your grace.”

Historical Note:

I’ll need to relocate where I’ve seen this, but the use of “Your Majesty” for kings and queens and “Your Highness” for princes and princesses isn’t in fashion in the early 14th century, and the most useful and likely address is “Your Grace”, at least for the monarch.

And even if I’m not recalling things entirely correctly, “Your Grace” still works better in this context than the more familiar “Your Highness”. Especially once we get into multiple royals in one room, and no one is using their names to address them.

Next snippet

Mini Nano Day 1

morgynleri:

So, sometimes I write very odd crossovers, and this one was sparked by conversations with @theotherguysride about an alternate early 15th century AU and Star Wars in close proximity, and the observation that one OC from the former and Padmé would get along terrifyingly well. It kinda snowballed from there, and now I have the kernal of a crossover AU to add to my list of WIPs.

Fandom: 15th Century RPF, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
AU: Blade of the Force
Word Count: 459
Characters: Margaret of Lancaster | Margaret Princess of Wales (OC), Owen Tudor, Thomas Beaufort, John Holland | Earl of Huntingdon, Richard Nevile, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Margaret wheels her horse around with reins and knees, bringing her shield up to block a blow that makes her teeth rattle. The man-at-arms who had landed the blow lets out a scream a moment later, and she gives Owen a grin from behind the visor of her bascinet. He’s been the best of the knights who make up her personal household, and she’s glad for her father’s decision to place him with her.

The others close around her – Thomas, John, Richard – to give her a reprieve from the battle, though she feels not winded at all. Though when the air seems to turn to stone and sunlight around her, she’s glad they are close. More so when she can move again, and around them is not the battle they had been fighting, but sand and bare rock, and something crafted of metal that gleams as burnished armor in the low light of the sun.

No. Not sun. Suns.

Margaret feels her jaw drop as she looks away from the quick glimpse of a pair of suns she’s seen when trying to use the sun to judge time.

“Your Grace.” John has his hand on her shoulder, and Margaret draws in a swift breath, shaking her head. Swaying in her saddle is not acceptable, not when they are lost through some sorcerery, in a place she cannot even begin to imagine.

“I am well, my lord Holland.” She reaches up with her shield hand to push the visor of her bascinet up. “Though I do not know where we are, or how we came to be here.”

“Some sorcerery, I expect, though I did not think those French bastards had such a cursed sort among their employ, for all their faults.” Thomas’s voice is a growl from behind his visor, and Margaret smiles a little. He has less love for the French nobility than the rest of them, after the news his brother had been killed along with her uncle.

“Peace, my lord Beaufort. Your anger keep for later, when once more the squabbling princes of France are within our reach.”

Movement catches her attention, and Margaret looks toward the gleaming structure she had noted before, seeing some ramp lowered from the bottom. The others note it too, and she finds herself neatly surrounded by the four she has kept with her through the strange sorcerous travel, tense and waiting to see what might come.

It is a single man, no older than Owen, dressed in robes in a style Margaret has not seen before, with hair cut short as a common soldier’s save for a braid on the right side of his head. He is watching them with the same wariness Margaret knows her knights are watching him.

Historical notes:

Thomas Beaufort is the son of John Beaufort, and nephew to the Thomas Beaufort who was Duke of Exeter. He was made Count of Perche in December 1427, so a good six and a half years after the initial point of this snippet, and thus is currently without title.

John Holland is eventually the 2nd Duke of Exeter, but at this point in time, it wouldn’t work very well for the AU, and I’m uncertain of when he gained that title. He does, however, have the title of Earl of Huntingdon by 1422, thus it’s important to his character, at least in the listing.

Richard Neville likely married Alice Montacute in 1421, though he is not yet Earl of Salisbury, as Alice’s father dies in 1428, another six years from this snippet. So, no title for him yet.

Margaret is the oldest daughter of Henry V in the AUs she exists in. This version of her is pulled from the AU of Mistress to Queen, an AU which is currently untitled, and in which her older brother is killed at Agincourt. She is the Princess of Wales, and her younger brother is to be Henry’s heir in France.

There isn’t, as far as I can tell, actually a battle between the French and English in June 1422 in history, however, I needed a battle for the beginning of this, so. There is one for the purposes for this AU.

Evening reblog before posting today’s snippet.

How entertaining. My insurance provider is spam-texting me about a flu shot I can’t get, and telling me that it’s good for anyone no matter their health status.

*thumps head on desk* Damnit.

(On the other hand, if you are able to get a flu shot, you should go do that as soon as possible.)

Mini Nano Day 1

morgynleri:

So, sometimes I write very odd crossovers, and this one was sparked by conversations with @theotherguysride about an alternate early 15th century AU and Star Wars in close proximity, and the observation that one OC from the former and Padmé would get along terrifyingly well. It kinda snowballed from there, and now I have the kernal of a crossover AU to add to my list of WIPs.

Fandom: 15th Century RPF, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
AU: Blade of the Force
Word Count: 459
Characters: Margaret of Lancaster | Margaret Princess of Wales (OC), Owen Tudor, Thomas Beaufort, John Holland | Earl of Huntingdon, Richard Nevile, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Margaret wheels her horse around with reins and knees, bringing her shield up to block a blow that makes her teeth rattle. The man-at-arms who had landed the blow lets out a scream a moment later, and she gives Owen a grin from behind the visor of her bascinet. He’s been the best of the knights who make up her personal household, and she’s glad for her father’s decision to place him with her.

The others close around her – Thomas, John, Richard – to give her a reprieve from the battle, though she feels not winded at all. Though when the air seems to turn to stone and sunlight around her, she’s glad they are close. More so when she can move again, and around them is not the battle they had been fighting, but sand and bare rock, and something crafted of metal that gleams as burnished armor in the low light of the sun.

No. Not sun. Suns.

Margaret feels her jaw drop as she looks away from the quick glimpse of a pair of suns she’s seen when trying to use the sun to judge time.

“Your Grace.” John has his hand on her shoulder, and Margaret draws in a swift breath, shaking her head. Swaying in her saddle is not acceptable, not when they are lost through some sorcerery, in a place she cannot even begin to imagine.

“I am well, my lord Holland.” She reaches up with her shield hand to push the visor of her bascinet up. “Though I do not know where we are, or how we came to be here.”

“Some sorcerery, I expect, though I did not think those French bastards had such a cursed sort among their employ, for all their faults.” Thomas’s voice is a growl from behind his visor, and Margaret smiles a little. He has less love for the French nobility than the rest of them, after the news his brother had been killed along with her uncle.

“Peace, my lord Beaufort. Your anger keep for later, when once more the squabbling princes of France are within our reach.”

Movement catches her attention, and Margaret looks toward the gleaming structure she had noted before, seeing some ramp lowered from the bottom. The others note it too, and she finds herself neatly surrounded by the four she has kept with her through the strange sorcerous travel, tense and waiting to see what might come.

It is a single man, no older than Owen, dressed in robes in a style Margaret has not seen before, with hair cut short as a common soldier’s save for a braid on the right side of his head. He is watching them with the same wariness Margaret knows her knights are watching him.

Historical notes:

Thomas Beaufort is the son of John Beaufort, and nephew to the Thomas Beaufort who was Duke of Exeter. He was made Count of Perche in December 1427, so a good six and a half years after the initial point of this snippet, and thus is currently without title.

John Holland is eventually the 2nd Duke of Exeter, but at this point in time, it wouldn’t work very well for the AU, and I’m uncertain of when he gained that title. He does, however, have the title of Earl of Huntingdon by 1422, thus it’s important to his character, at least in the listing.

Richard Neville likely married Alice Montacute in 1421, though he is not yet Earl of Salisbury, as Alice’s father dies in 1428, another six years from this snippet. So, no title for him yet.

Margaret is the oldest daughter of Henry V in the AUs she exists in. This version of her is pulled from the AU of Mistress to Queen, an AU which is currently untitled, and in which her older brother is killed at Agincourt. She is the Princess of Wales, and her younger brother is to be Henry’s heir in France.

There isn’t, as far as I can tell, actually a battle between the French and English in June 1422 in history, however, I needed a battle for the beginning of this, so. There is one for the purposes for this AU.

Next day reblog.

Mini Nano Day 1

So, sometimes I write very odd crossovers, and this one was sparked by conversations with @theotherguysride about an alternate early 15th century AU and Star Wars in close proximity, and the observation that one OC from the former and Padmé would get along terrifyingly well. It kinda snowballed from there, and now I have the kernal of a crossover AU to add to my list of WIPs.

Fandom: 15th Century RPF, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
AU: Blade of the Force
Word Count: 459
Characters: Margaret of Lancaster | Margaret Princess of Wales (OC), Owen Tudor, Thomas Beaufort, John Holland | Earl of Huntingdon, Richard Nevile, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Margaret wheels her horse around with reins and knees, bringing her shield up to block a blow that makes her teeth rattle. The man-at-arms who had landed the blow lets out a scream a moment later, and she gives Owen a grin from behind the visor of her bascinet. He’s been the best of the knights who make up her personal household, and she’s glad for her father’s decision to place him with her.

The others close around her – Thomas, John, Richard – to give her a reprieve from the battle, though she feels not winded at all. Though when the air seems to turn to stone and sunlight around her, she’s glad they are close. More so when she can move again, and around them is not the battle they had been fighting, but sand and bare rock, and something crafted of metal that gleams as burnished armor in the low light of the sun.

No. Not sun. Suns.

Margaret feels her jaw drop as she looks away from the quick glimpse of a pair of suns she’s seen when trying to use the sun to judge time.

“Your Grace.” John has his hand on her shoulder, and Margaret draws in a swift breath, shaking her head. Swaying in her saddle is not acceptable, not when they are lost through some sorcerery, in a place she cannot even begin to imagine.

“I am well, my lord Holland.” She reaches up with her shield hand to push the visor of her bascinet up. “Though I do not know where we are, or how we came to be here.”

“Some sorcerery, I expect, though I did not think those French bastards had such a cursed sort among their employ, for all their faults.” Thomas’s voice is a growl from behind his visor, and Margaret smiles a little. He has less love for the French nobility than the rest of them, after the news his brother had been killed along with her uncle.

“Peace, my lord Beaufort. Your anger keep for later, when once more the squabbling princes of France are within our reach.”

Movement catches her attention, and Margaret looks toward the gleaming structure she had noted before, seeing some ramp lowered from the bottom. The others note it too, and she finds herself neatly surrounded by the four she has kept with her through the strange sorcerous travel, tense and waiting to see what might come.

It is a single man, no older than Owen, dressed in robes in a style Margaret has not seen before, with hair cut short as a common soldier’s save for a braid on the right side of his head. He is watching them with the same wariness Margaret knows her knights are watching him.

Historical notes:

Thomas Beaufort is the son of John Beaufort, and nephew to the Thomas Beaufort who was Duke of Exeter. He was made Count of Perche in December 1427, so a good six and a half years after the initial point of this snippet, and thus is currently without title.

John Holland is eventually the 2nd Duke of Exeter, but at this point in time, it wouldn’t work very well for the AU, and I’m uncertain of when he gained that title. He does, however, have the title of Earl of Huntingdon by 1422, thus it’s important to his character, at least in the listing.

Richard Neville likely married Alice Montacute in 1421, though he is not yet Earl of Salisbury, as Alice’s father dies in 1428, another six years from this snippet. So, no title for him yet.

Margaret is the oldest daughter of Henry V in the AUs she exists in. This version of her is pulled from the AU of Mistress to Queen, an AU which is currently untitled, and in which her older brother is killed at Agincourt. She is the Princess of Wales, and her younger brother is to be Henry’s heir in France.

There isn’t, as far as I can tell, actually a battle between the French and English in June 1422 in history, however, I needed a battle for the beginning of this, so. There is one for the purposes for this AU.

Next segment

And for the umpteenth time – why the fuck do people think that playing their music very loud, with the bass turned up to the point of thumpy enough to feel, while they drive through a residential neighborhood where people might possibly want to listen to their own fucking music, IS AT ALL AN ACCEPTABLE THING TO DO?