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#m42
quiltofstars · 6 months
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Orion rising over Death Valley // Brett Nickeson
A few easily-spotted nebulae include Barnard's Loop and the Orion Nebula
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shaythempronouns · 4 months
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A 4-hour integration of the Orion nebula in narrowband. Shot at 440mm with a 150mm Newtonian and a ZWO ASI533MM Pro.
Edited with PixInsight.
Integrated from: 12x600" Ha 12x600" Oiii
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nsdclassic · 6 days
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BMW E30 convertible
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dead-philosophy · 1 year
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HERALDING THE END
Show me how the gods kill.
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SUPPORT THE CRYPTID
KO-FI | REDBUBBLE | TEEPUBLIC | ASK BOX | DEVIANTART
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apollolabsworld · 5 months
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Woodland walks with a vintage lens. Lumix g6 + 50mm f2.8 m42 unknown lens. The bokeh and look just hits different tbh
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monsieurbj · 1 year
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FORBIDDEN TO REBLOG IN NSFW, 18+ (Porno, Naked/Erotic), AND also NOT in TRASH BLOGS, racism, politic, guns/wars blogs, thanks.
The famous Great Nebula in Orion in the center and the Running Man Nebula at the top. RAW imaging stacked in Deep Sky Stacker and then processed in Adobe and LR. 250 images comprised to make this image.
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waxxwiver · 1 year
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mranalogdan · 1 year
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Rainbow 🌈
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quiltofstars · 6 months
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The Orion Nebula, M42 // Curtis MacDonald
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taifunu · 1 year
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Scrisori (letters)... by Paul Chiorean
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alsatonawall · 1 year
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O.M.A
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Orion Nebula (M42) Reprocess
Original: 3/8/22
Reprocess: 5/4/2022
Taken with: Celestron AVX mount and EdgeHD 800 optical tube, Celestron 0.7x focal reducer, ZWO ASI294 MC Pro camera, and ZWO UV/IR Cut filter
10s x 100 Exposures
2s x 250 Exposures
Controlled With: CPWI for mount control, ASIImg for image capture Process: level adjustment, brightness increase, sharpening, contrast enhancement
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dead-philosophy · 1 year
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Of Yore - part I
Gentle wind stirred the field of golden wheat, golden beneath a cold, grey, alien sky. The beginnings of a storm.
“What will you do?”
He called out to the warrior in bronze just across the way from him. Dried viscera still clung to his armor in places, though he had tried to wash it away. The nipping teeth of the wind raked undulating patterns through the grizzled grey-brown fur of his cloak, mirroring those that danced across the wheat. Crimson pteruges clinked softly against his cuirass. He turned his gaze to the smaller man, a deadness in his eyes. The left one always twitched.
“I don’t know.”
The gladiator made the man feel so small, standing near him. A little rat in the shadow of a hound. He did not mind that. Unspoken mutual respect existed between them. The little rat savored the low rumble of the hound’s voice above the ambient whisper of the wind. He smelled petrichor. His chest felt full of sharp things, bits of glass and needles and his own shattered bones, anxieties that made their home there. Things he could not say lived behind his eyes like worms. How could he say them? He would ask something instead.
“Do you still want to die?”
The troubled warrior’s amber eyes washed over him like the heat of a campfire when one stood too close. He savored that too, it was all he could get.
“I…”
The hound fell silent. His eye twitched. The rat stared up at him, the wind tousling his dark hair, his many yearnings thrashing in his gut like lampreys. Maybe something unspoken passed between them, but maybe he was just hoping it did.
“If you die, I want to die with you.”
Areshkar awoke with a start, his thin shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked torso. His hands gripped the hem of his moth-eaten blanket, his knuckles starkly white even against his sun-starved, pallid flesh.
Had it been a dream this time, or a memory?
There was no way to know anymore. Things had grown so fuzzy, it terrified him. Memories were all he had left. He drew a shaky breath, pulling aside the blanket and cautiously crawling out of bed. His bare feet padded softly against the cold floor, his eyes burning. Tears grew at the corners of his eyes and he spitefully rubbed them away with the back of his hand as he made his way over to the corner of the room. It was the only part of his quarters that had any semblance of order, as the rest was covered in a haphazard array of his belongings -- a rat’s nest. Open books and sheafs of parchment littered the floor, and an assortment of bladed weapons sat atop any available piece of furniture, some with cleaning supplies lying beside them. Clothes, whether they were clean or not he could not recall, lay draped over the backs of chairs or crumpled in piles on the floor. Some of them no longer fit his Warp-altered frame, but he did not have it in him to work out just which ones. Moths fluttered around the room, gathering around the multitude of flickering candles atop the creaky wooden dresser, thick ropes of melted wax affixing them to its surface. He approached the table in the far corner, its surface draped with a worn crimson battle standard emblazoned with an open maw. Fragments of bronze-finished armor laid there, beside a tarnished plasma pistol much too large for Areshkar’s own hands. A stasis vial sat surrounded by a series of tiny figurines carved from bone; several pointy-eared hounds in various poses, and a miniscule bust immortalizing a face lost to time. A face that lived forever in Areshkar’s head.
Areshkar did not reach for any of these things, instead reaching for a scrap of grizzled grey-brown fur just large enough to drape over his shoulders, moth-eaten and marked by scorch-holes. He picked it up, stroking it reverently for a moment. His gaze settled on something else, a faded pict-print with a dark stain in one corner. A picture of him.
The Rat King clutched the scrap of fur to his chest, breaking into haunting, mournful sobs; anguished cries of loss and longing that echoed through the bowels of the Lacustrine.
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neilkesterson · 9 months
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Porch Pooch Portrait
flickr
Porch Pooch Portrait by Neil Kesterson Via Flickr: First roll of Fomapan 400. Grainy but pleasant. Pentax SV3, Fomapan 400, Caffenol
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calochortus · 10 months
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♡kira-kira♡ by Hiroyuki Takeda Via Flickr: LZOS Jupiter-9 f2.0/85mm ミュンヘン・クリスマス市 in Sapporo
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