#practical anatomy

practical anatomy is an amazing little fanfiction which I absolutely adore by @honestground. I had to include a wee video of me trying to capture the iridescent vinyl as the sun was having none of my plans this am.

I actually typeset and planned to bind this one (amongst others) last year and then for boring health reasons had to set it aside, which is why the title page says 2024, BUT now she is done and I love her.

True to form casing was a nightmare and I need to practise more to actually get better at this so don't look too close at the endpapers please.

I didn't melt the vinyl this time and I think I may have cracked that code which is thrilling! I love how the Sheikah Slate came out as it plays an integral role in this story. iykyk.

More photos under the cut.

Receptors on the tongue can detect perhaps eight flavors: salty, sour, bitter, and sweet routinely, umami and kokumi if one becomes accustomed to the pairings and partings of Eastern cuisine, and of course iron and ash. This will explain your taste for the subtler mushrooms, buttery wines, and sunburnt shoulders, the mouthfeel of every Yes you regret. In each inch of skin one finds thirty feet of nerves prepared to fire or fail, almost two hundred committed to touch, ten times as many dedicated to real, remembered, and expected pain. In a lifetime you will shed half your weight in skin, cells expended in the search for the pains you prefer or deserve. The brain (and this may be the sovereign paradox of the body) cannot itself feel pain; it must explain sensations to the organs and extremities using strong Saxon words, as you would describe love or culture to a foreign, feral child. When the head aches blood is to blame, or the heart to be precise, pumping with a rhythmic disregard for all the damage it will do, smug in its seat just left of center, not quite where you think, darker, too, and smaller, balled like a fist.