“Revivafy” or something. And Time Travel. x2.

If you’re here, you should probably go read the latest chapter of my novella instead…or start at the beginning? Either way >:3 it’s far better than this piece!

Chloe Pen - Copy


Recognize anyone?

1 “You would give her up for me?”
2 “Time travel is a very simple thing. Safely shifting timelines however, is not. In fact there is a Servant; a deity whose sole domain is affecting timelines safely.”
3 “Tendrils”
2 “Right. Anyway, he doesn’t want to talk to me, or your friend for that matter, which means he is likely against what we are about to do.”
1 “Is that bad?”
2 “Usually, although he doesn’t seem to be directly opposing anything, otherwise we would likely be dead already.”
1 “Unless we are valuable individuals.”
3 “I’m not.”
2 “Not yet. Maybe in the future.”
1 “So you are really okay with this?”
2 “Yeah. I don’t think warping masstime is a good foundation for a relationship anyway.”
3 “Yeah.”
1 “Well, I just captured the antiservant; how difficult could this be?”
2 “You will not be aided by your Servants. They will be aiding the “selves” that are already present. You do not understand now, but being godless; as the demons are; is extremely difficult.”
1 “If you could manage it, I can too.”
3 “Yeah, no problems. I predate Tendrils anyway. I’ve known a world with much fewer Servants. I remember when there were only two. Father. Mother.”
2 “Fair enough. As long as the Servants don’t notice that there are more than one of us in that timeline we should be fine.”
1 “Well, all we have to do is stop your younger self from saving her life?”
2 “Yeah…that’s it.”

I wrote this a good two or three years ago and found it recently while stalking my own facebook feed.

I think I know who the characters are here, but it’s very hard to tell.

1: likely Janna Rhye. It may be Jin Sing Resz though.
2: Almost certainly Bradley Jeremy, although there’s an off chance it’s Azure Death.
3: Yaska Rheya May Däwngale.

The Solune Prince: The Aftermath of Thought; (or The N’Tariel Talent)

The Solune Prince

Novella 1

Chapter 10: The Aftermath of Thought; (or The N’Tariel Talent)

“Ah, hello Alexandre. You have not left?” Chloe sat down across from her.

Alexandre shook her head softly.

“Did you want a curriculum vitae?”

“A CV? Like a resume? No, I know about you from the professors I trade information with.”

“A demo perhaps?”

“I, ah, don’t think that…what is a demo?” Chloe knew the word, but not the context.

“A demonstration…of my ability as a researcher?”

“Oh, well, sure I guess. When?”

“Now.” Alexandre’s expression did not change.

“I don’t, ah, I don’t…” Chloe confused herself, “I don’t think so.”

“Then, let’s go.” She stood.

“Ah!” Chloe exhaled.

Alexandre Jutt smiled, and for the first time Chloe noticed that the woman’s teeth were metal—a silvery metal. They looked heavy.

I wonder what happened?


They walked down Mash road, named because it was made not of cobble, but of mashed stone paste, hardened in the sun.

“I probably already told you this, but I study hormones. My research isn’t much in demand, so I have not private funding,” Said Alexandre.

“Oh. So who funds you?”

“The crown.”

Chloe blushed, “I thought you did not want to work for the castle.”

Alexandre’s pale complexion brightened to match Chloe’s. “So did I.” She moved to change the topic.

“Most of it has been journal padding.”

“Journal padding?” I thought I knew all the academic jargon…

“It’s…padding the scientific journals. Adding—er, expanding on known ideas. Most of it is braindead or obvious, it rarely becomes useful unless someone is exhaustive about the process like Ar…A…Ari…” She physically grasped at air.

Chloe said, “Aristotle?”


“Anyway, aside from that there’s one thing I’m working on in secret.”

“Secret from even the crown?” Chloe gave an unpracticed, mischievous simile.

Alexander smiled back. “We have an arms-length relationship.”


“—But I guess you will find out soon enough.”


Chloe fidgeted, which made her almost trip. Alexandre caught her, but the neck and waist. “Err, sorry.”

She let go.

“Ah, thanks…”


They made it to the Academy, and Alexandre led her to the Kemia building. Chloe looked at the schools bell tower clock. It is nearly the eighth day-hour. So, two hours before dark. We should have time.

They made it to Alexandre’s office; a tiny room that Chloe assumed was once a supply closet.

“What, ah, what is this research then?”

Alexandre let them in and shut the door. It was black as pitch for a moment, and then Alexandre lit an oil lamp. She opened a drawer, extracted a notebook, and casually launched it at Chloe, who reflectively caught it.

They were standing in a sort of individual’s lab. In fact, out of all the times Chloe had seen Alexandre, she had never looked as comfortable, as at home as she did when she entered the office.

Chloe opened the book and read the title on the first page. Epinephrine. She considered the word, surveying her brain for its meaning. She stared around the room. It was small enough that it likely couldn’t fit more than three people; not comfortably, but it seemed to be fully equipped. There was an oven-sized blacktop (acid and burn proof) table in the centre, and a counter running along the far wall. That, ah, Alexander’s back cupboards are really tall… There were two chairs, tucked under the counter. On top of the counter, there were large metal cylinders marked “biohazard,” as well as needles, tubes, measurement tools, a doublelens, and a cage with—”



Chloe pointed.

“Oh,” Alexandre mumbled, “Yeah, I borrowed some…rats.”


“I’m trying to extract epinephrine—”


“—from them.”

Chloe, excited to finally learn what she was here for, said, “So, do animals have the same sort of adrenaline as us?” She had a wild thought, “You’re not running on rat adrenaline right now, are you?!”

“No! Eww! I haven’t even successfully pulled from them yet! Eww! I’d be putting, oh my Con! Eww! What kind of weirdo are you to say something like that!”

Alexandre flushed.

Chloe shrugged. “What do you mean by pulled?” I thought I knew all the jargon, and yet, here comes Alexandre Jutt confusing me.

“Sorry, extracted. I kind of just say what makes sense.”

“Ah…so what have you come up with?”

“Well, I’ve extracted adrenaline in fluids from myself, but uhg, these syringes are so heavy and stupid. I can’t do anything complex or precise with them.” She stopped, and thought.

Chloe said, “What about your secret!”

“Hmm. Well, it’s really tiring, and I’m not consistent. Plus, it’s…so numbing.” Alexandre sighed.

“What! What is it!” Chloe did not like dancing around a subject.

“You know the talent of the East Metch? And the North Metch; the N’Tariel moreso?”

Chloe frowned, “And the…Elken?”

Jutt nodded. She stood straight and breathed. Nervously, she said, “Poke me or something.”


“I can’t do it if I’m not stressed!” Alexandre yelled.

Chloe reached over the workdesk and poked Alexandre in the face.

“Your face is soft.”

Alexandre frowned. She and Chloe locked eyes for a couple of minutes. Then, Chloe spoke.

She looked away and said, “I know someone who could do what you are attempting.”

Alex sighed. “Solune Legend Salt Resz. Of course, he was N’Tariel. It’s far easier for them.”

Chloe said nothing. She studied the bits of paper and cardboard that littered the floor. She saw fabric poking out of one of the bottom cupboards.

“The Legendary Event was what inspired my research,” Alexandre continued, “I’ve been in correspondence with an N’Tariel Æsthetician about this. Controlling their adrenaline is taught from a young age there, so for him, explaining it was like explaining basic maths…”

Chloe sighed, “It also comes more naturally to those of Metch descent. I have never seen someone who did not have that ancestry take control of their adrenaline to the degree necessary to evoke any meaningful change!” She was starting to heat up, and she didn’t like it.

“What about the eldest prince Zealott? He claims to have achieved stable self-injected adrenaline rushes.” Alex countered.

Chloe stepped away, hitting her back on the wall. “My brother?”

“Wait, I forgot—”

“What if he is just deluded? He is blonde, could you really tell the difference? He’s been exiled for years! His words are never to be trusted!”

As Chloe spoke, Alexandre got an awful idea. She said, “What’s so bad about this Zealott then?”

Chloe’s eyes widened in rage. Her pupils opened; mydriasis. “Why do you think my sister left the kingdom? For fun? Abandon me? Nothing? Hate? Chase? Brother!”

Her words came out in abstract stream-of-consciousness. Alexandre rode the wave; she made a smug face.

What is she doing? “What is wrong with you?” Chloe said, “What are you trying to do?”

Alexandre Jutt’s metallic-black smile widened, “Induce a stress response! You know I get anxious when I make social missteps!”

Alexandre Dirge exhaled sharp and her hair burst white.

“Ah!” Chloe tried to jump back, but she was already against the wall. She reflexively took up an unarmed marital pose.

“Ah!” She calmed, “You—you did it! Look at you!”

“Alexandre stood in place, her eyes darted around the room, just a little too fast. Chloe leaned in.

“Amazing, your hair has lost its colour. Look, ever your eyelashes, and” she looked Alexandre up and down, “even your body hair. Your almost glowing, Dirge!”

“I—I can’t…” Alexandre burst out of the small office and turn around. Chloe followed.

“Let’s spar. Come on, I saw that back there, you made a military pose, you’re trained, aren’t you?”

“Ah, my mother made sure of it; but here?”

Chloe looked around. The University hallways, with all its deep green floortiles, was empty, but it was only afternoon, so people were still there. Classes were in session.

“For research Chloe, come on. I have like seven more seconds.”

“Seven seconds…six. Fine!” Chloe grounded her feet and leaned back. She threw a kick from the side, shooting her leg up and across, toes stiff. Chloe was four-and-a-fifth-cubits tall, 6.3 imperial feet, and a majority of it was legs. The strike it light, a calibration. Chloe wound her calf all the way back. She immediately followed with another kick, in the same location.

Alexandre, taken off guard by the movement and confused by the first hit, was launched into wall. Alexandre grabbed it and rolled to the ground, landing on one knee and launching herself to her feet.

She breathed, then ran beside Chloe, twice as fast as she should have, and threw a punch. It connected and, due to where Alex was standing, pushed deep into her opponent’s gut. Chloe moved her hands inward to stop it far too late, but she kept going anyway to try and grab the arm. Alexandre pulled back and hit Chloe again, three times in a second; so fast Chloe saw only one movement.

And then, Alexandre’s hair faded back to normal, near-black. Chloe grabbed her with ease.

“I win!” She laughed. “Alex?”

The bell began to toll, the eighth hour of the day.

“Oh it’s been so long since I heard the academy bell’s toll.” She listened to the sound, counting the hours. Then, she let go of Alexandre—or, she would have if the woman hadn’t gone limp.

“Alex?” She is unconscious. “Ah, she said it was draining but…ah, wow.”

Chloe pulled Alexandre into the room, laid her on the ground, and exited. She shut the door behind her. “Ah, I think that it will be nice having her in the party. I will, ah, I’ll be right back.”

Daniel Triumph.

Table of Contents

Info on Alexandre:

The Modern Syringe.jpg

“The modern syringe was invented by Alexandre Dirge because, “The syringe is far too heavy, clunky, and archaic for use on smaller organs or on smaller animals.” (signed, A. Dirge, 4001).



Passive Regressions 2


Come into my empty body,
A rotting corpse that once was proud.
Ate alive by my depression,
Abandoned ’cause I am a coward.
Emotion systems overloaded
Neck got smashed ‘ the way back down.

Possibly I’ve had too much,
But never did you give too much.

I lost my fingers to your hungers
I lost those fingers to my hungers
I cannot feel a thing
I’ve killed myself
I’ve run away
And on the other side they say

Suicide is cowardice
An act of selfishness.
Fuck you get out of here
Medallion noose
Snaps my neck
Snaps itself
Neck got smashed on the way back down.

Possibly I’ve been too weak
But never have I given up

I return to the Hangar
I know too much
I open my eyes, skull in a brace
I open my mind, what will it take
I take the world, my fucking world
I’ll have your life

Coward no more
Run into my fears
It is the cure.


You were like sand,
Slip through my hand.
I cupped my fingers,
So part of you lingers.

Now we are closer,
I want you more.
Sandstone in holster.
What am I good for?



Talk to me!



You’re supposed to say,


No, not “oh”!
try again.


What is it?




I wait outside the gates,
And it is not safe.
I invite you out here,
But it will not take.

And so I give up.
It is not safe.
Do not leave you bedchaimber.
Do not leave your safe.


Resentment and revenge
Both punishable by death.


I see dead people in my dreams
They all have my own face.
Will I die unfulfilled?
What do you dream of?
A plant?


Shower away
my skin
Touch the
nervous within
be nice to me
don’t be mean
i just want
love me.

Head Crusher Ballad

If you are a Condor


Than I am an Ostrich

No flight!

Or a Troodon

Greek for “wounding tooth”!

I am very smart


And I love you

Do I love you?

You do.

I do love you.

Of course :3


And you fly through the window Outside and you
told me to search for you there
Among these fools, you do not belong.
Among your peers, you may carry on,
And I will lose contact
But I will win battles
And then I will see you
Through the mystery.


Is it a poem
just a link to a video?


Woman will explain nothing, and expect you understand.
Man will explain everything, and still not understand.
Either way, man will know nothing.


I take your morality hostage.
Now what, bitch?
I’ll have your emotions too.
They are subject to me
Your mind? Keep that
Tyrannies aren’t worth it.

You asked for it, hun,
We’re in love!


Collect these tears;
Little memories,
Cute like you
I like them lots.
They remind me just
How much
I Love you.


I am so hungover
You poisoned me
I’m addicted to you
I don’t like the withdrawal
But next time
You will be good for me
And I’ll be good for you.


I have a trembling love.
I want to stabilize it but she says,
Don’t look, just touch.
I will do what I must.

Daniel Triumph.

Daniel Triumph.

Passive Regressions
Active Impressions

Alice and Finch – Update 2

Happy too am I!
Where is Lvsa, my love?

Hello. I am Alexandre Dirge.

And I dub Alice and Finch’s life to be an Archetypal Comedy, and therefore eternal.

Now I digress from my memories of their love story to bring you evidence with the help of Northrop Frye.

Elements of Archetypal Comedy

These are the elements that occur in nearly all love stories (and realities) across nearly all cultures. (Sorry barbarians, you are hardly romantic.)


Two lovers. Two lovers who are destined for each other, often both secretly of noble blood; prince and princess. No explanation needed here.

(I will add, however, that the connection to royalty is a very Jewish tradition. For more, read,Song of Songs, which may or may not have been written by King Solomon, or contact your local Rabbi.)


Flawed Society. The society is flawed; even if the only flaw is that it does not approve of, or actively denies the love of the heroes.

  • Angry Father. The father represents society itself. Thus, often the father directly manifests the society’s disaproval of the heroes love. The father, usually the maiden’s father, but it could be as distant as a grandfather or even another member of the society, becomes a blocking character.

You can see conflict and excitement, and even longing on the horizon by now, surely.


Instant Love. There is nothing in between the lovers. It is as if they have known each other forever. They slip into each others’ lives as easily as they slip into each others’ arms. Love at first sight may be something only found in the realm of fantasy, but surely love at his words must be real.

This is, of course, how I fell in love.

I have esteemed the words of his mouth more than my necessary food.
(Authorized King James Version, Job. 23.12 2, emphasis mine, italics in original)


Separation. How tragic! The lovers mus separate. It is either caused by a chaos or double chaos (brigands are a chaos. Water is a chaos as well, so pirates, thieves of the sea, are a double chaos.) Usually, however, it is the society’s failure in tandem with a chaos that sets it off.

  • Society. The society did not approve of Alice, the little monster, except for the other outcasts such as Finch the bookworm, the Metch priest, Prince Chloe Rhye, and myself. The guard were the final straw, urged by Ilias, and caused by…
  • Chaos. Alice is a chaos, because we don’t know (at least we didn’t know) what she was, what a Plainkind was. Plus, she was coming into puberty at the time, another chaos from within.

(The chaos being internal instead of external is, of course, very intriguing to me.)


Struggle to find oneness. Often this process brings out the woman’s beauty and desirably, as she longs for her husband-to-be. In the man, it brings out the same longing, and in some cases, even suicidal thoughts; “If I cannot be with her, I do not want to live!” (Infamously, Chaereas from one of the most ancient novels, Chaereas and Callirhoe, tried to die at least three times.)

  • Longing. Most of the wishes for death and disparity comes from longing. The pair are soul mates, and without each other, the world is but nothing, they are broken.

Fuck it all and fuckin’ no regrets
I hit the lights on these dark steps
Medallion noose, I hang myself
Saint Anger ’round my neck

And I choke… on the cross
As I hang… as I’m hanging
I just wanna die today
I just wanna die
Will tell you why

I’m madly in anger with you
I feel my world shake
Like an earth quake
Hard to see clear
Is it me? Is it fear?

Searching my head
For the words that you said

The light at the end of the tunnel
Was turned off
And something I noticed
Beating you is thrilling me
I’ve got a secret for you

Tears filled my eyes
As we said our last goodbyes
This sad scene replays
Of you walking away

The tides of change pulled us apart
I feel a familiar pain
In my hour of need,
No, you are not there
And though I reached out for you,
Wouldn’t lend a hand
My darkest hour is every hour
You’re not there
When no words are spoken and please are ignored
Your tears go unnoticed, will you say enough?

Did you ever think I get lonely?
Did you ever think that I needed love?
Did you ever think, stop thinking;
You’re the only one that I’m thinking of.
Goodbye 1000 times goodbye
The thought never crossed my mind
That this would be my last goodbye.

My heart, it hurts
‘Cause it never catches its breath
I’m still staying when I should have left
Come to where the waters meet the shore
I’ll be there
And I will stay, leaving you

I am really afraid
But I am her protector
You know?
You’ll be never alone again,
Cause I am your protector.

Waves—close your eyes and count slow
In this moment things are getting dangerous.
Oh no.
I can’t find my way.
All these things that left me in their waiting.
—I keep shaking.

But the things that she said sounded peculiar and strange
Like she couldn’t believe the words that were shaping
Her future life

(Plagiarized by Alexandre Jutt, and Daniel T.
Credits in order: Metallica, Two, Logic, Metallica, Megadeth, Falling Up, Daniel Triumph.)

The struggle to return as one pits the protagonists against many trials, mostly internal for the woman, and external for the man.


Reunion. Of course, there is a happy ending! The man finds his woman, or in the case of stories like An Ephesian Tale or An Ethiopian Story, the lovers find each other.



Wedding! Of course, the lovers need to lock in their commitment and become slaves to each other. How romantic, a choking band around the neck—I mean the finger. You will never be forgotten, Alice, Finch!

The old and corrupt society is inspired and renewed by the lovers’ actions and their fated reunion despite it all. The wedding festival brings happiness not only to the lovers, but to the whole city that celibates with them. Even the villains find their good spirit and join the celebration (if only to be arrested or likewise midway through. However, all are happy for the lovers, even they that opposed them see how wrong it was to do so.)

The marriage is very important, it is the symbol; a promise of a new and bright future. (Ah, love is in the air. Are you as excited for Alice and Finch’s wedding as I? Truly, I must finish these writings soon, for they are calling that I help with the preparations.)


Bye bye, love,
Alexandre Dirge!

…and Daniel Triumph.

Read an essay on the first draft of Alice and Finch Here: Alice and Finch: The Archetypal Recapitulation

You can also check out Alice and Finch – Update 1 here, as it is far short, and less dense.

Finally, the first draft is available on this blog, for free in its entirety. Check it out if you are feeling impatient!


Burying all of the evidence
My glamorous words will CATCH HER
Burying all of the evidence,
Some thousands of eyes will HAPPEN



Alice and Finch – Update 1

This post was written 12 hours before publication.
Happy Sabbath!
And Le’ah said, “happy am I!” (Genesis 30:13), so,
Happy too am I.

For anyone who read Alice and Finch’s first draft on this blog…

The final draft is finally in planning. Outlining and constitution will be done from now into December, breaking for exams etcetera.

I’ll start writing the renewed narrative in the new year.





Until then, please note that the soundtrack for the first draft will remain identical: primarily Mnemos by Falling Up.


Give it a listen, or a purchase if you like. Falling Up was a great band while it lasted. I, however, am intending; “hoping to cease not till death” (Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, 1892. ln 9).

Amway, for now, feel free to check out my current project, The Solune Prince.

Daniel Triumph.

Read Alice and Finch’s first draft here.

Read Alice and Finch – Update 1 here.

alice and finch


Burying all of the evidence
My glamorous words will CATCH HER
Burying all of the evidence,
Some thousands of eyes will HAPPEN