The country is Zanzamin, like Zanzibar, the adjective is Zanji, like Zanzibari. The colony of human prairie dogs where Erik and his family have been low-key kidnapped by a cult is New Tanga City, located at the northeast corner of the big island, New Tanga, on the Zanji Sea. The cult calls itself The Spirit, the cultists are spinners, they all share some of Erik’s mental abilities, and using them is called spinning. Most do not live in Wavuti Burrow, a small neighbourhood exclusive to the Spirit and their close family, but you will see their spider holes, small rooms where an overstimulated psychic might calm down and have a snack, all over town. (Please excuse Maggie’s frustration, Erik is being a little too friendly with Zuri.) The ambience is a bit Pan-African/Middle-Eastern/South-Asian, owing to frequent immigration and an incredibly divergent history. The languages are numerous, including Zanji (which bears a resemblance to Swahili) and Anglais. The sapphire sky is made of Zanzamin’s most common geological resource and biggest export. It leaks magic like crazy, but still provides illumination for twelve to eight hours a day, six to eight months of the year, depending on storm activity.

The world map is seriously messed up and oversimplified, but there are many vaguely familiar countries with vaguely familiar people living in them. Ifrana is the continent Zanzamin calls home — though the islands exist separately and often without trade partnerships or recognition as a nation. Ifrana bears a resemblance to Africa, but is missing a significant amount of its land mass. The missing area and the descendents of its people were recently discovered near the North Pole, but Hyperboria is fiercely isolationist and thus far refuses to be mapped by outsiders.

Zanzamin claims sovereignty over all the islands in the Zanji Sea; even the tiny reefs may be used to wreck passing boats, and larger atolls make safe harbours for floating cities of ships. They have a bit of a population problem and most Zanji citizens do not live there, given that they have a policy (known as Fadi’s Law, after one of Zanzamin’s founders who was, officially, killed by an enemy arrow at the ruins of his home village) of welcoming all slaves and all descendents of slaves, from anywhere in the world. Usually, a Zanji passport and a nearby embassy are all that’s required to leverage a human being out of a horrible situation, but, for political reasons, embassies are in short supply.

Zanzamin’s penchant for raids, piracy, and blatant terrorism in the pursuit of freedom (and resources) is well-known. Farsia has labelled them a terrorist enclave, and many of its allies have followed suit. Given that they’ve been stealing Farsia’s imports and exports (including the human ones) for over a thousand years, this is only to be expected. Much of the Near West and Northern Ifrana is against them, but Zanzamin has resisted so many attempts at eradication that even Farsia hardly bothers anymore.

Zanji culture, immigration and politics are clan-based and loosely matriarchal. (Men and young women go fight, but girls are expected to grow up, stay home and take charge — eventually.) Most ex-slaves do not show up with their extended, or even close, families intact, so most clans are related only by association. New family members arriving from distant lands will be assigned a family by a complex system of bidding and trading, but it is all strictly confidential to avoid hurt feelings in those who are picked last for dodgeball. While in Zanzamin, basic needs — including food, clothing, housing, conflict management, discipline, employment and love — will be dealt with by your family first. Those who don’t already have a family ready and waiting to adopt them, even on a temporary basis, such as tourists, will often find themselves ignored, excluded, or driven away.

Innate magic-users make up the largest culturally homogenous group in Zanzamin, at nearly fifty-percent of the population, but they’re not very homogenous. They share a few proclivities, such as sacred hospitality and maintaining family harmony via high expectations and guilt, and are easily recognized, so they do tend to group up and support each other no matter where they came from. However, they also mesh very well with the rest of the community, and other family-based cultures, so there is little segregation or differentiation. If PTSD could be considered a culture, most of Zanzamin would belong to it in some way, they all know it, and they make allowances.

The Spirit is an outlier. The uncommon nature of their talents means nearly all of them are innately magical. High levels of trauma and ambient magic mean existing in Zanzamin would be excruciating for many of them without some extra support. Together, they are able to support not just each other, but most of the country, with a constant, subaudible desire for kindness and care. It is difficult for them to exert any control, even over themselves, but influence is constant and multidirectional — that is the nature of spinning. Zanzamin spins them, they spin each other, and they spin Zanzamin, sometimes more, sometimes less, but always a little. They may take at least partial credit for Zanzamin’s resilience under constant strain.

Recent History

Much like Zanzamin itself, slavery has gone underground since Ikram and Fadi’s revolution. Zanzamin does not suffer excuses, any coerced or uncompensated labour in your nation’s supply chain is slavery, and it is punishable by theft. They will take people and supplies, they are not picky, but it’s easiest for them to grab things off of boats. The Zanji Navy is made of all kinds of boats, flying all kinds of colours, squatting in international waters all over the world. Every one of them will hoist black pirate flags if provoked — say, if a nearby ship could be said to be associated with the slave trade in any way. Zanzamin does not, as a rule, take prisoners or hostages — they will either leave their prey with enough resources to limp to the nearest harbour or… not. Sometimes not.

Due to frequent violations of international law, Zanzamin has had difficulty in being accepted as a legitimate nation and it makes alliances wherever it can get them. Upemba, on Ifrana’s west coast, is the only ally with an official trade agreement — all of their supplies that are not stolen or home-grown are imported from Upemba. Prokovia has recognized them, and sports several Zanji embassies, because they share an enmity with Farsia and Xin. Marsellia is dragging its feet and has neither recognized nor condemned them. The ILV, who have been targeted almost as much as Farsia in the modern era, have come down on Farsia’s side of things and will attempt to destroy Zanji ships on sight.

Without a tremendous amount of magic and magic-users, the revolution never would’ve taken off in the first place, and Zanzamin’s continued existence relies on considerable magic-based solutions and innovations. They don’t have nearly as much money as Farsia, but they have a large and resourceful population. Infrastructure is often slapdash and high maintenance, requiring frequent repairs, but the more it breaks, the more Zanji citizens get good at fixing it, or improving it. Zanzamin has twice as many skilled magic-users, per capita, as Farsia, and much less need for automation.

Historically, Zanzamin took resources and people from Farsia (formerly the Ankora Empire) and Ifran slavers, but changes in demographics and commerce have rendered their population much more multicultural. Farsia has outsourced its exploitation to Priyakadesh and Xin, via trade agreements, and modern technology has improved the Zanji Navy and resulted in a lot more international traders trying to sneak past them to get to the Silk Strait. Zanzamin has to spend a lot more time and effort just making sure its people can communicate with each other, let alone supplying so many cultures with the comforts of home. A lot of Zanji people who were born free on the islands are feeling pressure to join the navy or emigrate to make room for less-fortunate new arrivals. So far, patience, understanding and the collective good remain priorities and any isolationism is shouted down by the majority immigrant population.

Tourism has been on the increase recently, as a new ocean liner company has put Zanzamin on its route. There is not much will in Zanzamin to cater to tourists, especially Farsian tourists, but a few practically-minded groups are lobbying for a legitimate form of income to improve their international standing (and provide cover for more embassies to smuggle people away). Fair-skinned visitors tend to be treated with casual disregard, presumed tourists, oppressors and outsiders whether they are or not.

Altogether, Zanzamin’s fervent (and at times illegal) support of human rights should sustain it as long as its nearest neighbours keep trying to exploit people. Worldwide equity and prosperity would cut off their supply of immigrants and resources, and end any hope of widespread recognition as a nation. However, this does not seem liable to happen anytime soon. As long as slavery persists in any form, they will be able to make the argument that any amount of theft and violence is justified to fight it.

“Modern” Life

Magic is real and merges seamlessly with technology and human beings. There are people walking around with inorganic material (and organic material that was not originally theirs) replacing their missing pieces. There are also people walking around with fun rainbow-hued skin tones — these are innate magic-users and no matter where they come from, their shared cultural touchstones and ability to connect with each other forms the backbone of Zanji society. (For more on Magic, see Mechanics.)

Fashion tends towards what we would call 1920s styles, with punk and grunge overtones for unruly young adults, and true iconoclasts willing to dress down to nothing more than a flour sack tailored with safety pins. New Tanga City prefers elaborate fabrics to elaborate stitchwork, with all kinds of creative pinning and wrapping on display. Across Zanzamin, all fashion statements will be surmounted by at least one kanga, a versatile, rectangular piece of printed cotton cloth. These may be worn across the shoulders or the waist, and supplemented by other kangas as needed. It will be obvious to any fashionista which patterns are appropriate to the season and which are being worn solely for utility — an off-season kanga, worn alone, looks as bad as a set of stained sweatpants.

There are five Zanji ways of wearing a kanga, but they may be combined in groups of up to three to make complex statements of personal history and intent. A sword fold indicates some propensity to attack, and is based on a close-tied style that kept the flowing fabric out of the way in battle. A basket fold indicates a caretaking role (or one who is taken care of) and is based on a sling shape useful for carrying a small child or items of similar size. A shield fold falls across the chest in the shape of a kite shield, indicating a desire to defend or ward others away. A wave fold has a twist that resembles flowing water, for people who are similarly inclined to go with the flow. A web fold has a large knot with eight pleats radiating from it, but these are used only by members of the Spirit and not often seen. (Please, for the love of god, do not expect me to keep the fashion consistent in the illustrations — and I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to drawing all of these damn kangas, so you’re going to have to imagine them!)

All Zanji housing is communal, in one way or another. On land, shelters will be underground, or made of rammed earth and adobe. They will have large, shared kitchens and dining areas, and bedrooms that sleep at least two, but more likely four people. Dormitory situations with long rows of bunks are not uncommon. In large cities, each family will have a neighbourhood to call its own, with private spaces branching off of communal ones, and family-owned businesses lining the tunnel-shaped streets. On the sea, space is at a premium, so communal activities will take place on deck or, in the case of a floating home in a safe harbour, on a pier which connects multiple houses. No matter what, Zanzamin will feed you and find you somewhere to sleep, but it may not be a place of your choosing, especially if you’re a stupid tourist.

Technology

Magic has given the tech a boost in some places and held it back in others. We have toasters and microwaves (AKA “ondas”) but no airplanes, rigid airships being quite enough with a little augmentation. If you lack a telephone, you are extremely rural or destitute, but a new disc view radio with colour images, a projector and stereo sound is conspicuous consumption or a certified midlife crisis object. Zanzamin prefers magic-based technology, but electricity sees a spike in use every fall and winter. There are always some things that require electricity year-round, and a few that need magic, but gas generators and small animal sacrifices keep essential services going when batteries of both kinds are low. (It is possible to have a hotplate that eats mice. More useful than a pet snake!) Wavuti Burrow is an outlier, preferring electricity at all times, to the point that they have a new sun plate array and few ancient bicycle generators, just in case. Its more sensitive members find gem-based batteries, and their constant leak of magic, uncomfortable (and Erik agrees).

“Television” is something you might view on the aforementioned DVR, but it’s easier to call it all “radio,” as all programming is simulcast with and without images. A standard DVR offers a peephole viewer for one or two people, showcasing line-filled low-resolution images produced by a rotating disk. High-contrast makeup, animation, specially-designed puppets, or some combination thereof are a must. You may consume serials, news, and music on whatever type of home radio you can afford, in periodicals with magically-animated pictures and sound, or at movie theatres. Postcards with magically-animated pictures bear a suspicious resemblance to GIFs and memes.

Zanzamin’s most plentiful, exportable resource is sapphires — which are not only decorative, but able to hold a magical charge. After the revolution, experiments with dugout shelters proved that ground strikes of raw magic during the seasonal storms would make sapphires and other gemstones glow. Now, these glowing gems provide artificial light and a power source for all their subterranean farms and cities. Magic storms charge the stones in the spring, and, though they leak constantly, they retain some magic well into the fall. Owing to the brilliant blue colour and their placement in ceiling mosaics, it is said that Zanzamin has a sapphire sky.

Walking is the preferred method of transportation in Zanji cities. Neither pack animals nor bicycles do well in tunnels, to say nothing of how difficult it is to import animals that can carry a load and get along with immies. There are a few carts and trams that run on tracks, with their own tunnels segregating them from the pedestrians, but you will find many more powered walkways and escalators running along the walls in all directions. All pets and small children must be carried; the day a child finally meets the height requirement to zip by in the fast lane all by themself is a major coming-of-age event. For the convenience of others, loads are best carried on the head, the hip, or the back, often with the aid of a kanga. Anything too wide or bulky blocks traffic and is best loaded onto a cart or tram and delivered instead of carried by hand.

Magic use is unrestricted, ordinary and little trouble — mostly. Any projects liable to get out of hand or inconvenience (or endanger!) others will be caught early on by your loving family and/or community, and any issues will be addressed over a nice meal — or with a quick corrective swat. If you were building a giant mechanical spider out of repurposed garbage that had been hacked to run on sugar, someone would gently take you aside and explain that sugar is expensive, and it looks too wide for the street, and you’re gonna get tetanus picking through the trash like that, cousin, and by the time you finished building it, it would be much more reasonable and you’d have a bunch of new cousins helping you build more of ‘em.

It is almost impossible to find anti-magic tinctures in Zanzamin. There seems little point to such silly novelties, and kneecapping natural abilities on purpose reeks of oppression. Only an occasional stolen shipment makes it into the supply chain, but most of the Azee that the Zanji Navy acquires is simply burned as scented lamp oil.

Music

They seem to be getting some familiar music in this universe, but not exactly. Copyright laws necessitated some gymnastics — as far as that goes, I am still taunting Happy Fun Ball, and I believe we have a moral imperative to melt Happy Fun Ball, but I am aware it’s a risk, and you should be too. In-story, just remember that the hip new Eastern music they pirate in Zanzamin is packaged way differently and doesn’t sound the same. I am using the original band names — even when they don’t necessarily make sense — because the real artists deserve credit for the works I’m referencing. (And, in my opinion, the corporate interests that own those works do not.)

Musicians long ago discovered they could modify sound waves with magic, in real-time, without recording, amplifying, or mixing. That’s where the Voice From Music process comes from, and why all silent films were sung-through musicals. Mordecai’s old job allowed him to play the dialogue. Bowed instruments were once ubiquitous in pop music backing tracks because it was easiest to modify their vibrations. The advent of the electric guitar — and the inevitable experimentation that occurs when you give a bunch of musicians a noise-box that can be plugged into anything — has pushed “cello rock” almost entirely from the mainstream. The original VFM process is still sometimes used for its unique folky, indy, old-timey or quaint sound, but the addition of electricity is considered an improvement in all other contexts.

Magic allows for data storage in a quasi-digital format. All types of recording technology, including drawings and photographs, have been using it to improve quality and add features for quite some time. Currently, music can be heard on radio, record (single and LP), and audio tape — and viewed on Audio Spekto or Spek (if you have a disc view radio), Sinkie (a silent postcard that auto-syncs to any recording), and music reel (still popular in theatres, and with the best resolution of all). Wax cylinders are outdated and no longer produced — if you find one, good luck restoring or playing any of its original sound. All of these have much better resolution and/or storage than the versions we are familiar with.

It’s pretty obvious this universe is not getting their music in the order to which we’re accustomed. Magic is both a randomizer and a convenient excuse. Different artists are assigned to different eras and I’ll try to spread the wealth of the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s over several decades, sometimes shuffled together like a pack of cards. More recent music is out there, too, but we know the classics are classics because there has been a lot of time to weed out the Top 40 crap, so I will try to stick to the good stuff. …Mostly.

Milo remains an exception, selecting his favourites based solely on emotional attachment. His taste encompasses the full spectrum of things that make him happy because they sound happy, to things that make him happy because Calliope and the kids like them. He is willing to put up with some screaming, as long as he can control the volume. Erik, on the other hand, is interested in anything that sounds fun. If it happens to offend his uncle’s too-narrow tastes, that is a plus!

Eventually, if only for my own reference, I will have to produce a timeline matching up artists and their albums to years on the calendar. I am certain I will screw it up. In the meantime, know that Elton John and disco (known as synco, due to a lack of discs) were contemporary for David and Barnaby, and the Beatles and British (Elban) Invasion for Mordecai. The optimistic synth-pop new wave trend of Erik’s childhood has faded into disaffected punk and grunge, just in time for his young adulthood —  like 80s music became 90s music during my teenage years. It almost makes sense! (Thematically, at least? I hope.)

Magic vs. History vs. Society

A warning: In all cases, even when things look familiar to us, in Soldier On they exist in a totally different context. This reality is hackable, people have been making changes for a long time, and they will continue to make changes as long as they have that ability. The paper may look perfectly ordinary, but if you turn up the blacklight it glows and gets messages like a smartphone. That person may sound French, but ask them their opinion of the mouse-themed terrorist organization that’s shredding the homegoods and furniture of politicians back home. (Mordecai is in favour of it.)

In realistic terms, I’m one person and I can’t juggle an entire divergent planet without dropping a few things. The blanket excuse is not that people in Soldier On are better or worse than us, but that they had access to magic and we didn’t. Some differences will be motivated by cultural commentary, but most of them can just be chalked up to the fact that their universe works differently — period. Someone decided one random domino needed to be knocked over, magic gave them the ability to do so, and the next thing you know you’ve got lemurs at the North Pole.
Bear with me, and try to remember that you’re not at a clothing store looking into a regular mirror when you see aspects of your culture and history mangled beyond all recognition. I am probably not trying to insult you by implying those pants make your butt look three feet wide. I’m running a funhouse. Sometimes a nightmare funhouse, but in most cases, things just look weird because it’s neat when things look weird. You should be here to see weird things, not to buy pants. If you need an honest assessment of your butt, there are historians and sociologists in the real world who can devote a lot more time and energy to it.

More on the Setting:

• Gazetteer — A list of places in-story, with some history included. [I have it. I will put it up eventually, but it’s a lot to update, be patient with me.]
• Glossary — Weird words, intentional weird spellings and weird uses of language.
• Hyacinth’s Calendar — What we’ve covered in-story, with dates.
• Ages and Artists — I have put off doing this for seven years and I’m goin’ for eight, baby!

Welcome to Zadrakarta! – Archived

Geography

The country is Farsia, like Persia, the adjective is Farsian, like Persian. The monument to Capitalism and Man’s Hubris where Erik and his family find themselves is Zadrakarta, located on the northernmost end of the Silk Strait. The too-expensive hotel where their mental health needs are being accommodated is a Neuestal, part of an international chain based in Gundaland. (Please inquire after Mordecai in the madroom, he feels at home there and may have forgotten he doesn’t work for the hotel.) The ambience is a bit Middle Eastern, but with vastly different history. The languages are Anglais, Parsi and Prokovian, among other international dialects, with Prokovian being mainly for the convenience of tourists and thus a distant third. The public flyways operate year-round, though services may be erratic during magic storms — your patience is always appreciated. If you must operate a flying carpet, please use the slow lane.

The world map is seriously messed up and oversimplified, but there are many vaguely familiar countries with vaguely familiar people living in them. Atria is the continent Farsia calls home. It bears a resemblance to Asia, but is located in the Near West. Business has been booming in Farsia ever since the fall of the Kemet Empire and it’s not about to stop now!

Farsia claims a significant part of southeast Atria, with the Silk Strait separating them from Priyakadesh and Xin, and facilitating trade with both. It utterly destroyed any chance at a cordial relationship with Prokovia, but Prokovia’s business is not required — any conflict in that area has long gone cold. Their enmity with the terrorist regime that has claimed sovereignty over a scattering of islands to the south is much warmer; it calls itself Zanzamin, it engages in blatant piracy and it has no legal right to be there, but the political stalemate between them is as ancient and unchanging as the land (about a thousand years old, in other words). The Silk Strait, a positive boon for the Farsian economy and not at all an ongoing environmental disaster, resulted from an ancient conflict with these interlopers, which Farsia won handily.

Recent History

Farsia has also won at capitalism and technology; they declared victory shortly after the Silk Strait proved to be more of a sound business decision than an expensive boondoggle or a hazard, and they see no reason this situation shouldn’t continue indefinitely. No, the fall of the Kemet Empire is not a reason, that place was poorly maintained, and old. Farsia is thoroughly modernized, quite ahead of its time, and setting the pace of advancement for all nations that aspire to its glory. Their endless growth is quite sustainable.

Magic is essential for maintaining any standard of living, it has been this way since the days of the Ankora Empire, but advances in battery technology have caused a real boom in the usage of Farsia’s most profitable natural resource. They are deeply invested in automating everything it is possible to automate, and new things become available every year. The breakneck pace of their innovation is starting to render their technology incompatible with export, even to the ILV, who are similarly obsessed with magic-based solutions. But capitalism begins at home and they are meeting their own needs very well, with significant momentum towards isolationist policies as a result.

The one thing that they can’t create out of thin air is enough of an innately-magical population to keep their country running during seasonal magic storms. Most people can’t work magic-based tech during a storm. Even the storm-proof technology that keeps the infrastructure from taking irreparable damage is magic-dependent. Farsia’s automation won’t go without coloured hands pushing the buttons. These are not particularly gruelling jobs (ANYMORE!!) but a higher-than-average number of employment-aged immies is required, and that requires levels of immigration at odds with any isolationist inclinations.

Altogether, Farsia is still running a human-resources-based economy, as of old, but now they’re asking for volunteers. It doesn’t work if they don’t remain as bright, shiny and convenient as possible. Thus, they are constantly sucking up money and magic, and spewing out gorgeous (and sometimes pointless) innovations. Any threat to the positive perception of their extremely sustainable growth will be dealt with… harshly.

“Modern” Life

Magic is real and merges seamlessly with technology and human beings. There are people walking around with inorganic material (and organic material that was not originally theirs) replacing their missing pieces. There are also people walking around with fascinating rainbow-hued skin tones — these are innate magic-users and they are among Farsia’s most lauded and valuable citizens, due mostly to their vibrant culture and tremendous work-ethic, and only peripherally because they’re the only ones who can operate the magic-dependent infrastructure during a storm. There may have been a brief issue with enslaving these people, and others, and using them like the machines they operate, but that’s ancient history! (For more on Magic, see Mechanics.)

Fashion tends towards what we would call 1920s styles, with punk and grunge overtones for unruly young adults, and true iconoclasts willing to dress down to nothing more than a flour sack tailored with safety pins. Zadrakarta prefers its dress flowing, its hair short-cropped or covered, and its beards and moustaches luxuriant, and all but the smallest nomadic communities can afford to do likewise. Away from the coasts, the flow of magic and money is a little less consistent, the skyscrapers are less spectacular, and the aerial transport may be seasonal or altogether absent, but not many Farsians are interested in living simply or sustainably. Fashion, architecture and public works are a convenient outlet for spare money, and they have lots. It often gets out of hand! (Please, for the love of god, do not expect me to keep the fashion consistent in the illustrations!)

Housing options range from vast penthouses with spectacular views and all the modern conveniences, to shoebox-sized micro-efficiency apartments with views of zooming traffic and other apartments, to palatial desert estates surrounded by hydroponic farm terraces, where the weather and the landscape itself can be adjusted at the push of a button. Those unable to afford the basics may apply for various social services and welfare programs, with an emphasis on discretion. Farsia long ago decided it was much cheaper to feed and house the indigent than to maintain them on the streets, dirtying the gutters and scaring the prospective coloured citizens tourists. The worst of them may maintain themselves by crashing on couches and hopping from madroom to madroom, but at least they’re indoors.

Technology

Magic has given the tech a boost in some places and held it back in others. We have toasters and microwaves (AKA “ondas”) but no airplanes, rigid airships being quite enough with a little augmentation. If you lack a telephone, you are extremely rural or destitute, but a new disc view radio with colour images, a projector and stereo sound is conspicuous consumption or a certified midlife crisis object. The Neuestal chain offers a consistent, middle-of-the-road experience across multiple continents (excluding Surarctus and Hyperboria) and a standard suite of appliances powered by electricity or discreet sacrifices (It is possible to have a hotplate that eats mice. More useful than a pet snake!) as needed. There will always be a telephone, an alarm clock, a DVR with a set and projector for family viewing, an “onda-fridge,” a coffee-maker, and a full bath in every room.

“Television” is something you might view on the aforementioned DVR, but it’s easier to call it all “radio,” as all programming is simulcast with and without images. A standard DVR offers a peephole viewer for one or two people, showcasing line-filled low-resolution images produced by a rotating disk. High-contrast makeup, animation, specially-designed puppets, or some combination thereof are a must. You may consume serials, news, and music on whatever type of home radio you can afford, in periodicals with magically-animated pictures and sound, or at movie theatres. Postcards with magically-animated pictures bear a suspicious resemblance to GIFs and memes.

Travel in Farsian cities will most likely be air-based, at least most of the year. Flying bicycles, and similar rigs with wheels and pedals that are equally useful on streets, are the most popular vehicles, but skateboards, rollerskates, and other more DIY solutions are welcome, provided they obey traffic laws. Flying carpets are picturesque, but slow; outside of businesses catering to whimsical tourists, only a dedicated historian or hobbyist would bother maintaining such a thing. Horses are another potential hobby, albeit for wealthy people living in the countryside. The very idea of using them for transportation is laughable. Horses are not suitable work animals in cities where innate magic-users live — that’s just bad for business!

Magic use is ubiquitous and even encouraged, in line with Farsia’s innovative spirit. Frequent competitions for worthy new products are held, elevating ordinary citizens into the ranks of entrepreneurs and designers. Good magic makes money, and it ought to be allowed to make as much as possible! If you invented a giant mechanical spider that could carry groceries, ignore terrain, rock a baby to sleep, and automatically store itself in a convenient compact form, why on earth wouldn’t you patent that and start selling it immediately? They’ll work out any bugs in the development stage!

Farsia says Culture Comes in Every Colour! Or, a little less delicately, PLEASE COME HERE AND DO MAGIC, WE NEED YOU! Coloured culture is historically isolated and insular, but Farsia is trying like hell to make it mainstream, accepted, visible and cool, with frequent street festivals, representation across all forms of media, and commercialization. (A little Rainbow Capitalism may seem familiar to readers occupying a different universe, but in this case it’s not a monthly diversion.) They have sanded off many of the sharp edges and wrapped the whole thing in neon, but the needs of the magical community are everyone’s needs, not “special” or inconvenient in any way — and you can shove one of these delicious name-brand, mass-produced falafels* in your mouth and shut up if you think otherwise. *Available at a 50% discount for immies during a storm!

It is almost impossible to find anti-magic tinctures for sale in Farsia. Those who require them for medical reasons must obtain a prescription and wait for their monthly supply to arrive by mail.

Music

They seem to be getting some familiar music in this universe, but not exactly. Copyright laws necessitated some gymnastics — as far as that goes, I am still taunting Happy Fun Ball, and I believe we have a moral imperative to melt Happy Fun Ball, but I am aware it’s a risk, and you should be too. In-story, just remember that the hip new Eastern music they pirate in Farsia is packaged way differently and doesn’t sound the same. I am using the original band names — even when they don’t necessarily make sense — because the real artists deserve credit for the works I’m referencing. (And, in my opinion, the corporate interests that own those works do not.)

Musicians long ago discovered they could modify sound waves with magic, in real-time, without recording, amplifying, or mixing. That’s where the Voice From Music process comes from, and why all silent films were sung-through musicals. Mordecai’s old job allowed him to play the dialogue. Bowed instruments were once ubiquitous in pop music backing tracks because it was easiest to modify their vibrations. The advent of the electric guitar — and the inevitable experimentation that occurs when you give a bunch of musicians a noise-box that can be plugged into anything — has pushed “cello rock” almost entirely from the mainstream. The original VFM process is still sometimes used for its unique folky, indy, old-timey or quaint sound, but the addition of electricity is considered an improvement in all other contexts.

Magic allows for data storage in a quasi-digital format. All types of recording technology, including drawings and photographs, have been using it to improve quality and add features for quite some time. Currently, music can be heard on radio, record (single and LP), and audio tape — and viewed on Audio Spekto or Spek (if you have a disc view radio), Sinkie (a silent postcard that auto-syncs to any recording), and music reel (still popular in theatres, and with the best resolution of all). Wax cylinders are outdated and no longer produced — if you find one, good luck restoring or playing any of its original sound. All of these have much better resolution and/or storage than the versions we are familiar with.

It’s pretty obvious this universe is not getting their music in the order to which we’re accustomed. Magic is both a randomizer and a convenient excuse. Different artists are assigned to different eras and I’ll try to spread the wealth of the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s over several decades, sometimes shuffled together like a pack of cards. More recent music is out there, too, but we know the classics are classics because there has been a lot of time to weed out the Top 40 crap, so I will try to stick to the good stuff. …Mostly.

Milo remains an exception, selecting his favourites based solely on emotional attachment. His taste encompasses the full spectrum of things that make him happy because they sound happy, to things that make him happy because Calliope and the kids like them. He is willing to put up with some screaming, as long as he can control the volume. Erik, on the other hand, is interested in anything that sounds fun. If it happens to offend his uncle’s too-narrow tastes, that is a plus!

Eventually, if only for my own reference, I will have to produce a timeline matching up artists and their albums to years on the calendar. I am certain I will screw it up. In the meantime, know that Elton John and disco (known as synco, due to a lack of discs) were contemporary for David and Barnaby, and the Beatles and British (Elban) Invasion for Mordecai. The optimistic synth-pop new wave trend of Erik’s childhood has faded into disaffected punk and grunge, just in time for his young adulthood —  like 80s music became 90s music during my teenage years. It almost makes sense! (Thematically, at least? I hope.)

Magic vs. History vs. Society

A warning: In all cases, even when things look familiar to us, in Soldier On they exist in a totally different context. This reality is hackable, people have been making changes for a long time, and they will continue to make changes as long as they have that ability. The paper may look perfectly ordinary, but if you turn up the blacklight it glows and gets messages like a smartphone. That person may sound French, but ask them their opinion of the mouse-themed terrorist organization that’s shredding the homegoods and furniture of politicians back home. (Mordecai is in favour of it.)

In realistic terms, I’m one person and I can’t juggle an entire divergent planet without dropping a few things. The blanket excuse is not that people in Soldier On are better or worse than us, but that they had access to magic and we didn’t. Some differences will be motivated by cultural commentary, but most of them can just be chalked up to the fact that their universe works differently — period. Someone decided one random domino needed to be knocked over, magic gave them the ability to do so, and the next thing you know the Silk Road is a shipping lane.
Bear with me, and try to remember that you’re not at a clothing store looking into a regular mirror when you see aspects of your culture and history mangled beyond all recognition. I am probably not trying to insult you by implying those pants make your butt look three feet wide. I’m running a funhouse. Sometimes a nightmare funhouse, but in most cases, things just look weird because it’s neat when things look weird. You should be here to see weird things, not to buy pants. If you need an honest assessment of your butt, there are historians and sociologists in the real world who can devote a lot more time and energy to it.

Welcome to Cyre! – Archived

Geography

The country is Prokovia, like Russia, the adjective is Prokovian, like Russian. The tourist trap where Erik finds himself literally trapped is Cyre (rhymes with tire, with a hard C, but I can never remember that myself), located on the southwest coast of the Silk Sea. The once-fashionable hotel where he now resides is the Vesely. (If Potato, the cat, or Erik himself should happen to escape, please return them to Room 1409, their jailer worries.) The ambience is a bit Eastern European, but with vastly different history. The language is Prokovian, which will be rendered as a Google-translate-friendly version of Russian, so you can copy-paste and see what they’re saying. The Kirov Ghetto, a block of subsidized housing for innate magic-users, stands mysteriously abandoned, with most of the furnishings and belongings still inside.

The world map is seriously messed up and oversimplified, but there are many vaguely familiar countries with vaguely familiar people living in them. Anatolia is the continent Prokovia calls home. It bears a resemblance to Europe, but is located in the East. The long war is over, but another is already brewing.

The Prokovian Empire stretches across much of northwest Anatolia, meaning they have a lot of tundra and steppe-land and not much respect. They also have an uneasy alliance with Marsellia, a country not entirely unlike France. The Marselline Empire (which still lays claim to nearly two whole islands in the South Seas) unconditionally surrendered at the end of the last war, almost two decades ago. They have a high degree of autonomy, but their radical ways and penchant for revolt are well-known, and highly suspicious.

Recent History

Prokovia is experiencing a tentative cultural renaissance, having come out of the Prokovian Conflict of 1359-1371 with a new foothold in the East, and a bit more clout. Marsellia is not quite an ally, and not quite a colony, but their association seems friendly on film and paper. Their PM is a frequent visitor at the Czarina’s palace in Khorivgrad; a marriage or some other alliance may be in the works.

Actually owning and operating Marsellia, and trying to keep its people under control, is a bit less rosy. Apart from the warm water sea access and lovely vacation spots, it’s not clear what the place is good for — though the Czarina seems to have some ideas. Marselline people are famously unruly, prone to blowing things up, setting them on fire, and seditious rumblings in general. There have been some incidents in Prokovia that might even be construed as a Marselline attack, but the PM insists they have nothing to do with it.

Anyway, Prokovia is embracing Eastern dress, modern technology and a modern worldview. And if you are not embracing these things up to the Czarina’s standard, a nice man in a nice suit will visit and remind you that there are still plenty of nice gulags, er, settlement villages in the north for people who prefer a simpler life.

Altogether, there is a lot of electricity, pavement, infrastructure, and new construction in progress. Soaring brutalist architecture, sharp lapels and shiny shoes are in; cobblestone, peasant garb, muddy boots and anything with too much “personality” is out.

“Modern” Life

Magic is real and merges seamlessly with technology and human beings. There are people walking around with inorganic material (and organic material that was not originally theirs) replacing their missing pieces. There are also people walking around with unnatural rainbow-hued skin tones — these are innate magic-users and they are dangerous, disloyal, and best left to themselves. (For more on Magic, see Mechanics.)

Fashion tends towards what we would call 1920s styles, with punk and grunge overtones for unruly young adults, and true iconoclasts willing to dress down to nothing more than a flour sack tailored with safety pins. Prokovia prefers its dress snappy, its hair oiled, and its faces shaved, but outside of the largest cities, not many people can afford to do that. In small towns and farming communities, headscarves, colourful dresses and tunic-length peasant tops are perfectly acceptable. Simpler outfits and obvious stains indicate poverty or dissolution, and are pitied. In cities, either style will be openly mocked, and “peasants” encouraged to walk in the gutter and keep the sidewalk free for civilized people. (Please, for the love of god, do not expect me to keep the fashion consistent in the illustrations!)

Housing options range from country estates with attached farmland and sharecroppers, to townhouses and residential skyscrapers, to… nothing. There is no housing here for you. Go away. Innate magic-users, and normal human beings who are willing to risk their lives doing magic for work, are offered subsidized housing well outside city centres, near their jobs. Many of the dangerous ones grow tired of the necessary restrictions and move elsewhere, and good riddance to them.

Technology

Magic has given the tech a boost in some places and held it back in others. We have toasters and microwaves but no airplanes, rigid airships being quite enough with a little augmentation. If you lack a telephone, you are extremely rural or destitute, but a new disc-view radio with colour images, a projector and stereo sound is conspicuous consumption or a certified mid-life crisis object. The Hotel Vesely is in evident decline, with balky plumbing and electricity. Its residents often make do with old-style appliances powered by sacrifices (It is possible to have a hotplate that eats mice. More useful than a pet snake!) and a lot of magic-based piecemeal repairs.

“Television” is something you might view on the aforementioned DVR, but it’s easier to call it all “radio,” as all programming is simulcast with and without images. A standard DVR offers a peephole viewer for one or two people, showcasing line-filled low-resolution images produced by a rotating disk. High-contrast makeup, animation, specially-designed puppets, or some combination thereof are a must. You may consume serials, news, and music on whatever type of home radio you can afford, in periodicals with magically-animated pictures and sound, or at movie theatres. Postcards with magically-animated pictures bear a suspicious resemblance to GIFs and memes.

Much cobblestone and funky old brickwork remains in Cyre, and the city is well known for its spire-filled skyline — the tourists love it, so it’s impractical to pave over all of it. Sidewalks are meticulously maintained, however. Buses, cars, taxis and bicycles are the preferred methods of transportation. Horse-drawn carriages are allowed, for the tourists’ sakes, but horse leavings must be cleaned immediately.

Obvious use of magic is considered rude — though allowable in the case of horse leavings, which are ruder. Preprogrammed, factory-made items are considered straight up tech, and are acceptable for public use and/or cool. There is an official government stamp certifying safety, which many such objects display conspicuously.

Good magic is performed in factories and research facilities, by licensed, registered, educated professionals. Anything that looks a bit too janky or DIY is regarded with the same horror as a downed power line, and professionals (or police) may be called to deal with it. 

If you dared get around with a giant spider made of repurposed garbage that has been hacked so it runs on sugar, you would be asked to surrender peacefully and then shot.

Music

They seem to be getting some familiar music in this universe, but not exactly. Copyright laws necessitated some gymnastics — as far as that goes, I am still taunting Happy Fun Ball, and I believe we have a moral imperative to melt Happy Fun Ball, but I am aware it’s a risk, and you should be too. In-story, just remember that the decadent Eastern music they pirate in Prokovia is packaged way differently and doesn’t sound the same. I am using the original band names — even when they don’t necessarily make sense — because the real artists deserve credit for the works I’m referencing. (And, in my opinion, the corporate interests that own those works do not.)

Musicians long ago discovered they could modify sound waves with magic, in real-time, without recording, amplifying, or mixing. That’s where the Voice From Music process comes from, and why all silent films were sung-through musicals. Mordecai’s old job allowed him to play the dialogue. Bowed instruments were once ubiquitous in pop music backing tracks because it was easiest to modify their vibrations. The advent of the electric guitar — and the inevitable experimentation that occurs when you give a bunch of musicians a noise-box that can be plugged into anything — has pushed “cello rock” almost entirely from the mainstream. The original VFM process is still sometimes used for its unique folky, indy, old-timey or quaint sound, but the addition of electricity is considered an improvement in all other contexts.

Magic allows for data storage in a quasi-digital format. All types of recording technology, including drawings and photographs, have been using it to improve quality and add features for quite some time. Currently, music can be heard on radio, record (single and LP), and audio ribbons — and viewed on Audio Spekto or Spek (if you have a disc-view radio), Sinkie (a silent postcard that auto-syncs to any recording), and music reel (still popular in theatres, and with the best resolution of all). Wax cylinders are outdated and no longer produced — if you find one, good luck restoring or playing any of its original sound. All of these have much better resolution and/or storage than the versions we are familiar with.

It’s pretty obvious this universe is not getting their music in the order to which we’re accustomed. Magic is both a randomizer and a convenient excuse. Different artists are assigned to different eras and I’ll try to spread the wealth of the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s over several decades, sometimes shuffled together like a pack of cards. More recent music is out there, too, but we know the classics are classics because there has been a lot of time to weed out the Top 40 crap, so I will try to stick to the good stuff. …Mostly.

Milo remains an exception, selecting his favourites based solely on emotional attachment. His taste encompasses the full spectrum of things that make him happy because they sound happy, to things that make him happy because Calliope and the kids like them. He is willing to put up with some screaming, as long as he can control the volume. Erik, on the other hand, is interested in anything that sounds fun. If it happens to offend his uncle’s too-narrow tastes, that is a plus!

Eventually, if only for my own reference, I will have to produce a timeline matching up artists and their albums to years on the calendar. I am certain I will screw it up. In the meantime, know that Elton John and disco (known as synco, due to a lack of discs) were contemporary for David and Barnaby, and the Beatles and British (Elban) Invasion for Mordecai. The optimistic synth-pop new wave trend of Erik’s childhood has faded into disaffected punk and grunge, just in time for his young adulthood —  like 80s music became 90s music during my teenage years. It almost makes sense! (Thematically, at least? I hope.)

Magic vs. History vs. Society

A warning: In all cases, even when things look familiar to us, in Soldier On they exist in a totally different context. This reality is hackable, people have been making changes for a long time, and they will continue to make changes as long as they have that ability. The paper may look perfectly ordinary, but if you turn up the blacklight it glows and gets messages like a smartphone. That person may sound French, but ask them their opinion of the mouse-themed terrorist organization that’s shredding the homegoods and furniture of politicians back home. (Mordecai is in favour of it.)

In realistic terms, I’m one person and I can’t juggle an entire divergent planet without dropping a few things. The blanket excuse is not that people in Soldier On are better or worse than us, but that they had access to magic and we didn’t. Some differences will be motivated by cultural commentary, but most of them can just be chalked up to the fact that their universe works differently — period. Someone decided one random domino needed to be knocked over, magic gave them the ability to do so, and the next thing you know there’s an inland sea where the Ural Mountains ought to be.

Bear with me, and try to remember that you’re not at a clothing store looking into a regular mirror when you see aspects of your culture and history mangled beyond all recognition. I am probably not trying to insult you by implying those pants make your butt look three feet wide. I’m running a funhouse. Sometimes a nightmare funhouse, but in most cases, things just look weird because it’s neat when things look weird. You should be here to see weird things, not to buy pants. If you need an honest assessment of your butt, there are historians and sociologists in the real world who can devote a lot more time and energy to it.