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wanderingsorcerer · 20 days

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Bones of the Past: Unearthing the Ancient Art of Osteomancy by W.S.

Osteomancy, an ancient divination art utilizing bones, boasts a rich history spanning millennia and has manifested in various forms across diverse cultures worldwide. In today's Wanderers Tea Time, we'll explore these distinctive variations and even guide you through crafting your own personalized set.

The art of osteomancy goes by many names across many different cultures, but its main purpose is to divine future or present events. This can look like bone throwing, which entails reading the way bones land after asking a question.

Pyro osteomancy in which the bones are heated in fire and the cracks are read by the shaman or fortune teller.

There is no one correct way to practice osteomancy because each cultures take on the practice differ depending on region and era.

Chinese Oracle bones

The practice of shamans reading Oracle bones in China is seen most prominently in the late shang dynasty, the process involved the use of Turtle Shell and or Ox scapula bone.

Emperors, nobles and even peasants were known to frequent these fortune tellers for answers. The process involved carving questions into the bone or shell and then placing them into a fire. The heat from the fire would cause fracture points in the bone and from these cracks the shaman or fortune teller would be able to get insight into the questions asked.

If this sounds familiar to you and you've never heard of osteomancy there is a chance you recognize this scene from Avatar the last Airbender.

This scene, despite its animated nature, adeptly illustrates the profound reliance individuals often placed on fortune tellers, while also delving into the cultural intricacies that underpin this ancient practice in an easy to digest manner.

osteomancy in Ancient Greek culture

In Ancient Mediterranean culture there were many different ways people could divine the future. One such way was the use of Astragaloi, an ancient four sided die usually made from a sheep's knuckle bone.

These dice were usually numbered and correspondence charts were used to see which God would be governing over your question, once completed whoever was doing the readings would be able to divine an answer.

This was a fairly common practice and was a type of game in and of itself. But the Astragaloi were used in other games all around the ancient Mediterranean and it was so common to have a set, that many children who died young were known to be buried with a set of them.

New Age Spiritualism*Derogatory

The rise in new age spirituality has led to a rise in cultural misappropriation, Osteomancy is not as common amongst the new age spiritual movement as say tarot cards are.

It's Folk practitioners I've noticed who are keeping the art form of osteomancy alive, and are doing so respectfully within their cultures parameters.

That being said when it does bleed into New Age Circles What I've unfortunately seen in recent years, especially on tiktok, is the practice of osteomancy being used in the same fashion as hoodoo and African religious practices. (By white people)

And while it is important to learn about other cultures and to grow as a practitioner. It is also important to understand that copying the way a specific culture does their divination is not something you should be doing unless you are a part of that culture or at least are attempting to reconnect to it.

Osteomancy is an open practice and has been practiced for thousands of years, however you shouldn't be playing copyright infringement with our African brothers and sisters.

Osteomancy Sets: The Found

To create your own Osteomancy set it is common to go into the forest or parks and search for animal bones which have already dried and been exposed to sunlight. These sets when created are said to be more valuable than one purchased because each piece of bone holds a story and a different assigned meaning. This allows you to read a more detailed answer to the question asked. The can take years to complete though so people will also add stones and other nicknacks into the mix.

Make sure each bone is cleaned with a degreasing solution and then soaked in a hydrogen peroxide solution for several days to keep rotting from taking place. If done properly the bones should last several years, if you do it incorrectly you may notice bone flies appear. They feed off of bone and are a nuisance they damage the entire set.

You can also make a Vegan version out of Wood, carving answers into them and throwing them as you would a normal Osteomancy set.

Below I will show you how to make your own set of Osteomancy Bones from the Grocery store :)

[Liability Disclaimer]

"Wandering Sorcerer shall not be held liable in the event that you become sick after attempting this project, please do not attempt unless supervised by an adult or are yourself over the age of 18. Follow all safety procedures, both recommended and inferred by the warnings given" W.S. 04/08/2024

{WARNINGS AND SAFETY PROCEDURES}

"This is going to include the handling of fresh animal meat and bone. Please practice food safety and contamination control, I don't want you to get sick. while not found in avians, if you do this project with other animals Bone dust can expose you to prions, which is known to cause brain diseases when inhaled. If and when carving into dry bone wear a mask and have proper ventilation, its best to do most if not all of this outside."

Now that that's out of the way without further adieu here is -

Osteomancy sets: The Formed

As someone who has done a fair amount of taxidermy work and wanted a set of my own Osteomancy bones a few years back I decided it would be cool if I made my own instead of buying one off etsy. This step by step can be converted to suite any animal however at the time I decided on chicken because it was rather inexpensive, and I was craving fried chicken that day :)

Opus Est~

Raw Chicken Drumsticks ( 6 is a good number ) store bought is fine

Dawn Dish Soap

Hydrogen peroxide

Very Sharp Knife

Metal Pot

Gloves (please wear gloves when handling hydrogen peroxide and wash your hands and the area after handling meat to avoid spreading bacteria)

The Burden Of Creation

Start by deboning the chicken, this can be tough but what I did was follow the bone using the back end of the blade. Very important the blade be as sharp as possible.

Then begin pulling away the meat and separate any cartilage from the drumstick. Cook the chicken however you like but DO NO COOK THE BONES

Once the bones are prepped we are going to begin the degreasing stage, using Dawn Dish Soap and water begin cleaning and scrubbing the remaining blood and meat from the bone.

once you're satisfied with the results, get fresh clean water and inside the metal pot add a decent amount of soap, you will allow it to sit for at minimum 24 hours.( 72hrs is best with daily water and soap changes) keep doing this until the water no longer has scum forming from the bones.

After degreasing stage is complete, get a new pot and add in hydrogen peroxide, you can get high proof 12% or higher peroxide from the hair salon, but if not Medical Grade 3% is fine, it just takes a few more days.

Change the peroxide solution daily, you should begin seeing a bleaching effect after 72 hours. Once the bones are white you can leave them out in the sun for a few days to allow them to fully dry.

The Joy Of Creation

Now that the bones have been degreased, bleached and dried we can begin actually designing the Osteomancy Set,

The set we will be creating is the crossing questions Osteomancy set, many people more than likely already know of this set as it is a common form of divination seen amongst many yes no fortune tellers on Live Streams today.

To make a set of your own you will need

Twine

paint

Dried Bones

This is entirely up to you on how you decide to wrap or paint your Bones, the main important aspect is that a specific amount of your Bones are wrapped in twine and the others are painted with varying symbology and answers. If you have the aptitude you can carve into the bones to create permanent symbols (please use proper ventilation)

The most common for a set of six, is three wrapped and three painted.

Allow yourself to get creative, once they've been created bless them however you like and name them as you would any other tool.

So now that you've created your very own set of Osteomancy Bones, you might be asking how you read the answers.

Well look no further:

How to Not Be Dyslexic When Reading Bones

You should have a designated throwing cup in which the set can both be stored and thrown from, think Yahtzee but for divination.

when thrown, the bones will land dependent on their varying weights and your throwing styles.

If they create an X the answer to your question is yes.

If the answer is no they will drastically separate from one another, sometimes subtle other times at cartoonish velocity.

When two stringed ones cross it becomes a definite yes. Meaning the most likely scenario to happen.

If a painted and a strung bone cross it means probably, if two painted cross its a soft maybe.

Depending on your own point of view and the symbology painted on your bones, you can interpret different meanings from your throws. The more personal a design you give your Bones the more you will be

I Feel It in My Bones

Osteomancy is an important aspect of divination, many of the ancient divination practices have unfortunately been lost or made illegal by society(The Vapors) so i think it's nice that we see this ancient art still widely practiced today. I hope I was able to offer some insight into this practice and maybe even inspired you to create your very own.

Thank you for sitting down and having Tea with me on the Other side of the Great Divide

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lupineheart · 11 months

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the name is cassidy༺☾༻ i’m 28, engaged & in school to become a veterinary technician. i have a rare digestive disease called achalasia. proud mama to a black cat named binx.

interests: dark fantasy, gothic rock, nature walks, swimming in the sea, nu metal, painting, crystals, tarot reading, guitar & piano playing, singing, tattoos, playing skyrim, sea turtles, chameleons, oddities, mushrooms, moths, werewolves, faeries, mermaids, flow arts, fire spinning, moon bathing, corpse bride, ginger snaps, the texas chainsaw massacre, jennifer’s body, cannabis, kurt cobain, grunge bands, 90s fashion, washington state, type o negative, the band HIM(ville valo), lillies, twin peaks, planet neptune, alice in wonderland, jackass, viva la bam, candles, black lights & neon art, glitter & a way more. enjoy your stay inside my crawly crypt.

#lupineheart #glitter text #glitter #gif #glitter gif #gifs #goth blog #goth

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ducknotinarow · 2 years

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📝Raphael uwu [Rise Verse]

| Send Me A 📝And I’ll Give You A Random Amount Of Headcanons/Facts About My Muse!

Raph is a huge sports guy Football(American), Soccer, Basketball, Xtreme sports, pretty much anything.

He has a few sports cards that he's found in the trash over the years and keeps in a binder. So when he comes across a new one he gets very excited

He started to take an interest in fashion because of Yvonne, whenever he does get dressed he's trying to be a bit stylish

In that, he takes some things into thought like colors and overall function along with style. He annoys his brothers with this because he takes a long to dress now.

Of course, Raph loves Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movies

Raph still had that angry side his previous variations are known for he just had a better handle compared to them since he stress his need to protect his brothers first.

Raph being the oldest of course took charge because he was the older when they were just turtle tots. But often his brothers got hurt during thier mischief, Splinter often making a point to Raph he needed to watch them is what started planting the seed to his mother hen tendencies

Raph is a big Mother Hen, he is the most likely to worry over his family no matter the reasons from injury to not being home when they would be home. Tend to have the hardest time with letting Mikey have that independence

Raphael has Anxiety clearly, I say is likely Separation anxiety, seeing how his family is all he has known for a good while it's no wonder Raph tends to panic when he is suddenly left alone.

Raph uses social media the least compared to his brothers so he isn't as in the know on things. Like our date meme "Like a Boss."

Because of this he also doesn't always fully understand a short-hand text or what it means and it has confused his brothers. he also makes it up sometimes.

Raph digestive tact is made of steel because he keeps eating stuff he shouldn't u_u Man has a strong bite and can eat pretty much anything seeing how he has a bite force of 209 N

Raph is one of the better swimmers of his brother's thanks to being a Snapping Turtle

(Movie related) Ralph’s eye sight on his right eye is not the best and often gives him issues now

Raphael/Yvonne (Yes I put one up top then decided to add a section on its own.)

Raph is the type to fall in love fast and hard. he fell for her pretty quickly, and couldn't stop himself for loving everything about her.

Raph tends to get a bit flustered around Yvoone simply because he's always trying to impress her in hopes of her liking him back.

Raph isn't one to use terms of endearment as much so he mostly calls her by name or babe, he prefers my girl though the most.

Raph is very quick to lifts Yvonne up to protect her over the smallest things.

He likes to pick her up and spin her around before pulling her into a hug. Sometimes he forgets how strong he is and yeets her into the air though good thing she can fly

When Raph gets her gifts he has a bad habit of over thinking if they are good enough for her and has many times just ate her gifts so to replace it with something better

One exception to this is Raph will make her a Braclete from an old mask of his, he torn this into shreds and learned t braid the Fabio and even found an old bit of metal that fit well with some help with his bothers he goes engrave it for her (I don’t know what with yet but this is post movie angst related uwu)

Yvonne being British has grave Raph a chance to try the snacks and other food there, he has a favorite and sadly it’s Turkish dealight u_u

He is Yvonnes biggest hype man not matter what he generally means it but he’s very out loud with it when he dose hype up her creations and more.

He's the kind of boy friend that buys a hoodie wears it and purposely gives it to his girl so she has a hopdie of his

Big Mama’s boy Au

Raph dosen’t know any Ninja skill but he has picked up how to fight from his mother Battle Nexus

This Raph has the bad temper pervious Ralph’s are more known for.

He has made it point to know everything his mom has control over mostly for the times he alone he can make sure no one is causing trouble when she isn’t there to keep things in order.

He tried to make her a teddy bear as a kid it’s not the best a patch work of fabric and not stuffed the best and has poor stitch work he scarp material around the hotel to make it for her thought

Even after Raph learns he has brothers out there he chooses to stay with Big Mama, She was the one who raised him she is his family

He dose try to connect with them however with his Mom’s blessing

However if put in the position he would pick Big Mama over his brothers and betrayal them if they ever hurt her u-u

Raph refers to Big Mama as either Ma or Mom

#muse| rapheal #[rise verse]#[ ones trash is anothers treasure aflockoffeathers]#[ poor soul in the spider web aflockoffeathers]#[ big mama’s boy au]#muse bio: Raphael Hamato #Headcannon || role casting #meme answers #stayed qeued #((I had more but you haven’t seen the movie yet uwu))#((I got another one for Raph so when I post it ill link them up uwu))

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neptunesdaughtr · 2 years

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Rediscovering Mamajuana, the Legendary Drink of the Dominican Republic

Caribbean spiced rums aren’t particularly exotic — there’s hardly a bar in America where you can’t order a “Captain and Coke,” for example. But there’s one unique variety of Caribbean spiced rum that you may not have heard of, even though its origins date back more than 800 years: Mamajuana.

As originally made by the native Taino people, mamajuana (or Mama Juana) was prepared as a tea with a mix of herbs, tree bark, and — if legends hold true, the private parts of a turtle.

The latter is important because all through its long history, mamajuana has been touted as an aphrodisiac (its local nickname is ”the baby maker”) as well as for its medicinal qualities, such as improved digestion and blood circulation.

The recipe for mamajuana endured even long after the Taino disappeared from the Caribbean, decimated first by the rival Arawaks and then enslavement and disease brought by Europeans. The latter added spirits and red wine to the recipe, and gave the concoction its modern name (which comes from a nickname for the type of squat, wicker-covered bottle the drink was traditionally stored in).

Today, mamajuana is considered the national drink of the Dominican Republic, although until recently you were more likely to find it served at a local bar than at a Caribbean beach resort.

Mamajuana also has endured as a variety of the “bush rum” found throughout the Caribbean, especially on islands with a strong Latin influence.

For example, on St. Croix, which has strong cultural connections to Puerto Rico, tourists may flock to the Mount Pellier Domino Club to feed cheap beer to the resident pigs, but savvier visitors know the superior attraction is sipping owner Norma George’s homemade mamajuana.

Never made exactly the same way twice, mamajuana retains its air of mystery, but in recent years it also has begun to show up on liquor store shelves, with somewhat more refined versions produced under brands like Candela and Kalembu.

Candela mamajuana, available in the Dominican Republic as well as more than a half-dozen U.S. states, is marketed as a premium product: a 750-mi bottle sells for $25-$35.

Alejandro Russo, Candela’s founder and CEO, says the spirit starts with aged Dominican rum distilled directly from sugar cane juice. Spices and organic honey are added next, and the blend is then aged again in American white oak barrels.

The complete ingredient list for Candela (the name alludes to the Spanish idiom for “sexy” or “too hot to handle”) is a secret — but rest assured, turtle is not an ingredient in the mix.

Also missing is the red wine traditionally used in mamajuana, but Candela does include the main traditional herbs used by the Tainos, including Bohuco Pega Palo, Clavo Dulce, Anamú, Palo Brazil, and Maguey leaves

“Everything is as authentic and natural as you can find,” Russo said.

Mamajuana can be sipped neat, on the rocks, or used in cocktails. Different drinkers will experience different flavor notes, but I found Candela’s mamajuana to have a taste reminiscent of root beer or birch beer, and — bottled at 60 proof — a smooth finish.

Resort bartenders in the Dominican Republic have used mamajuana in place of rum to make mojitos, Pina coladas, and daiquiris, for example, and the Cuprum Miami bar at South Beach’s Beach Plaza Hotel uses Candela as the base for a variation of the Negroni cocktail.

Russo himself prefers a mamajuana Old Fashioned.

“Even though people in the Dominican Republic often drink it for its medicinal properties, we focus on its mixology aspects,” he said

Like a lot of people, Russo — a native of Chile, not the Dominican Republic — first encountered mamajuana on vacation.

“I was at the Bavaro Palace in Punta Cana and everyone was drinking this stuff,” he remembered. “I met a good group of friends at the pool bar and it turned out to be a wild night. I went to the bartender the next day and asked him, ‘What was that?’ And he flexed his arm and told me, ‘This is ‘Dominican Viagra.’”

Hooked, Russo searched in vain for mamajuana to take home from his trip, “but I could only find it in DIY form” — bottles filled with herbs but requiring buyers to add their own spirits, wine, and sweetener. Despite having no background in the spirits business, he left determined to bring his new, favorite drink to a wider audience.

“I loved the taste, how it made me feel, and it is very cool culturally,” said Russo. “Mamajuana is to the Dominican Republic what tequila is to Mexico. Latin people have a certain ‘spice,’ and Candela really embodies Latin culture.”

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technofantasia · 4 years

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A little thing I really appreciate about Rise of the TMNT is just how subtle the writing can be at worldbuilding and characterization!

Like... a very common problem in all kinds of fiction, let alone kids' shows which tend to think their audience is too stupid to put 1 and 1 together, is telling over showing. How do you let your audience know how your world works, what characters' names are, how they know each other, all that kind of stuff? Usually, the answer is to find some way to shove in exposition. Have the characters introduce themselves to someone new so the audience can be introduced to them, or have the information come up in (hopefully) natural conversation, or find some other way to tell the audience exactly what they need to know. While writers can get creative in how they deliver that exposition so it isn't outright immersion breaking, depending on how much they need the audience to know, a little bit of immersion breakage can seem like kind of a necessary evil. Exposition is still exposition, no matter how you dress it up; it's always going to be the writer telling the audience what they need to know through the characters' mouths instead of showing it gradually through their actions.

...If you notice, despite being ostensibly a kids' show, Rise doesn't really have any exposition!

The first episode drops you right into the turtles’ life, without any foreknowledge or expectations or anything really, and proceeds to not really try to explain anything. You can clearly see they are not human, and can assume that they are turtles by the title of the show and the shells on their backs; at no point is it actually explicitly said they are turtles (at least, at no point is the audience told they are turtles. it comes up sometimes, but more as flavor than exposition). The same way, at no point in the first episode do they really say the characters’ names; it comes up in conversation sometimes, as names often do, but there’s no “these are the character’s names!” part of the conversation where they all consecutively say each others’ names or anything like usually happens in first episodes. You just have to pay, like, minimal attention to figure it out, which the entire audience can easily do.

Actually, a thing I REALLY like is that, throughout the series, they almost never say their full names? Which makes sense, because why would they ever say their full names, they’re long and unwieldy. It makes them seem a lot more realistic. But that’s particularly noteworthy because the audience is never explicitly clued into the fact that they even have full names at all! If you legitimately knew nothing about TMNT going into the show, you’d need to figure out through context clues that “Mikey, Donnie, Raph, and Leo” are nicknames at all, let alone what they’re nicknames for. Then again, it’s not exactly impossible to find out through context because they have multiple nicknames for each other (which is a thing you’d only do if someone has a particularly long, nicknamable name)! Just in the first episode, Leo is called both Leo and Leon, which clues you in that Leo is probably short for something. Combined with later episodes where Donnie calls him “Nardo”, it then would become pretty clear that his full name is Leonardo even without having to hear it spoken out loud! The same thing holds true with the other characters; sometimes their full names come up, but when they do, it always feels completely natural and like it only so happens to be revealing information to the viewer. It trusts the viewer to understand and put together the subtle context clues it lays down so it can just tell a story without stopping to explain everything, which feels just fantastic!

And that’s only one example of the writers doing this. They do it for everything. Like, just going back to the first episode again, first scene. What happens? The turtles zipline over some shady crime stuff to canonball into a pool which April got them access to, They come across Mayhem, they fight some jogger guys who turn into magic horsemen or whatever, they lose and the bad guys get away with Mayhem and April. Cool. Now, what does this scene let the viewer know about without ever explicitly saying anything?

They’re ninjas (they’re in the shadows, doing cool flips and stuff)

They’re not very good at being ninjas, presumably because they’re teenagers and not fully fledged heroes (They ignored the shady deal going on on the roof, they completely failed the fight and showed very little skill, they act like teenagers who care about things like jumping in pools)

They’ve known April for a long time (dialogue shows them being very close, close enough that she doesn’t really need to ask anything or say anything in order to be understood)

The basic personalities of all the characters, just through dialogue

Donnie has some kind of high tech stick that has lots of cool features, but they aren’t very well implemented, presumably because he was hasty in adding them (nice little nugget of characterization there, showing he’s more of a scatterbrained scientist type than an exhaustively-pedantic one)

Donnie also has some kind of a backpack thing that can let him fly!

Mikey can pop into his shell, but none of the others do that, leading to the conclusion that he might be the only one who can (which is kind of up in the air anyway, but at least for the most part hes the only one who DOES)

...plus a bunch more. But all that is expressed more through stuff just happening and you getting to see it than any kind of easy to digest exposition. If you really aren’t paying attention, you could miss all of that! It’s surprisingly subtle.

Then there’s stuff like how none of the turtles’ weapons are ever really explicitly named in series (again, as anything more than an aside), Donnie’s battleshell is never officially named OR introduced, the fact that Donnie has multiple battleshells with different functions is never really explicitly brought up, what exactly it is that any of his inventions do AND how they work AND that they’re controlled by his wrist doohickey are all left up to the audience to notice, a good number of important side characters (Hueso, Hugninn and Muninn, the foot guys, FOOT RECRUIT,,,,) are never really explicitly introduced, like, with names and everything, the fact that Raph is the oldest and Mikey is the youngest and Leo + Donnie are the middle children only comes up in passing... so much of the show’s details and lore is never brought up in exposition form, and as a result needs to be just. Noticed, and put together.

It even does this with major plot stuff! Like, you learn that the Battle Nexus is 1) controlled by Big Mama, 2) in the Hidden City, 3) incredibly popular and basically a cornerstone of the city, and 4) Big Mama as a result basically controls the city, all through context clues without ever needing to be told. Or, most of Splinter’s backstory, the biggest continuing mystery of the show, is NEVER actually talked about at any point! It’s only shown to you, never told except in the most sideways fashion (like in Goyles, where, despite being ostensibly an origin episode, Splinter and the turtles aren’t even the focus!)

Heck, thinking about it, most of the show’s mysteries are only mysteries because the writers decided to put some context clues in that hint to there being more to the situation, even if not everyone would realize that! The viewers are TRAINED to take every bit of information given by the text and try to work it into their internal sense of the world and characters, because that’s just how the show works. The writing is consistently INCREDIBLY subtle like that.

And in a way, it makes sense that it would be written like that, even if TMNT isn’t usually known for its subtlety, This is a show all about teens being teens and doing stuff that teens would do, if they were ninjas and also had magic and enemies and stuff. Despite being a very wacky premise, the show relies on a certain amount of realism and groundedness in the characters in order to ground all of the crazy circumstances they get into. Even if they’re being forced into eternal 80s makeover montages by a magician hippo, the characters still act like people, and more importantly, like relatable, semi-realistic people, with realistic reactions and realistic interests and realistic insecurities. The characters are supposed to feel, in a sense, like real people.

How much do you know about any real people other than yourself?

The writers just dropping you into these characters’ lives and not explaining them to you is a way to make them feel more real, I think. It forces you to try to understand them and what they’re all about like you’re meeting them for the first time, getting to know them through their actions more than anything else. It makes the show and especially the characters feel a LOT more personal and, in a sense, real, which is a feeling the show absolutely benefits from and uses to its full extent.

But anyway, this has gotten really long, soooo... Rise is a show that always treats its audience with respect, and it’s just so nice to realize that respect even extends to trusting us to figure out lore as basic as the characters’ names. That kind of subtle writing really makes the show stand out!

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt meta #hunny rambles #im sorry this is really long i just care about this A Lot #the writing in this show is unbelievable #god this is so much disorganized rambling #i apologize to anyone who reads this and has taken an english class. i am a disgrace

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robbyrobinson · 3 years

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OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS: GODS AWAKEN (Pt. XV

The next day, Hexside opened its doors to begin the school day. Willow was once again at her locker and was withdrawing some of her class books. Gus walked down the hallway and casually glared at the other students. Seeing Willow, he galloped over to her.

“Morning, Willow,” he said.

Willow smiled. “Good morning.”

Before he could say anything further, Gus glanced around as if looking for something. “Hey, where’s Luz?” He looked over at the popular clique of girls. “Come to think of it, where’s Amity?”

“I think it was Eda who got into contact with me about some kind of experiment the two were doing. She said that they would be gone for at least a day or two at worse.”

Gus’ eyebrow raised in curiosity. “The two of them doing an experiment together?”

Given how he knew about Amity having feelings for the human girl, one side of him couldn’t help but wonder if she was perhaps experimenting around with chemicals to create the ultimate love potion to give to Luz. He quickly shook that idea from his mind. Sure, one could not deny that Amity was head over heels for Luz, but she wasn’t the type of witch who would play with someone’s free will in that fashion. Even if it pained her for Luz to be seemingly ignorant of her feelings, it would equally pain her to force her to love her.

Skara and the popular girls caught sight of the two and walked over to them. Typically, seeing the popular kids approaching the “misfits” of the school’s social system would otherwise be a bad omen (befitting the Social Darwinism of the world), but Willow and Gus greeted them with little anxiety.

“Hey, guys,” Skara said, “you guys doing good?”

“Yes, we are,” Willow said, “we saw your performance on Penstagram last night, it was really good.”

“Aw, thanks!” Skara proclaimed. “The girls and I were going to go camping out and we thought if you’d like to come?”

Willow scratched her chin in deep thought. “I could use the occasion to better my talents.”

It was a bizarre sight. At best, the popular clique of girls would voluntarily grace the two with quick glances, but now, they were having civil conversations with them. It started shortly after the Banshees won against Luz and her friends, but they were graceful enough to compliment Luz and Willow for their teamwork. They would have loved having them on their team too, but Boscha, as the team leader, quickly shut that down. But with the three-eyed girl having been missing for roughly a few weeks, that created enough of a schism that they ingratiated themselves with Luz and the others. With Boscha out of the picture, the girls revealed themselves as not sharing the same malice. One could say that they would be total sweethearts to the trio of misfits if Boscha did not exist.

“So, you will come?” Skara asked.

“I will keep it mind,” Willow replied, “but I appreciate the offer.”

Principal Bump sat at his desk troubled. He tapped his bony fingers on his desk in an effort of figuring out what he could do. He had broken out in a cold sweat with the hairs on his arms and legs sticking up. Starting a few weeks ago, Bump could sense something amiss in the Boiling Isles. An indescribable, inhumane calamity was about to happen, but he was uncertain when it would come. He found himself gawking at the clock on the wall in a daze.

“Calm down, old man,” he said to himself, “maybe in the few hundred years I may’ve misinterpreted the signs.”

He picked himself out of his chair and opened the door to his office. Goggling around, things continued to appear to be of order at the school. Relieved, Principal Bump stepped out of the door and trudged down the hall. He ended up seeing the Abomination Teacher talking with another teacher.

“Aw, Principal Bump! What is the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing,” Principal Bump answered, “I was actually on my way to the library.”

Principal Bump turned to leave. “You seem to have a lot on your mind.”

Principal Bump chuckled and placed his hand behind the back of his head. “Oh, it’s just about this year’s curriculum is all.”

The Abomination Teacher glared at him. “What about it?”

Principal Bump staggered for answers. “Uh...something about the...lunch choices?” He picked up the pace without staring at the teacher again. “I’ll announce it later.”

The Abomination Teacher shrugged and head his way down the opposite side of the hall. Principal Bump arrived in the library already seeing that a few students were there to study or conduct research. He advanced towards the chief librarian’s desk. The librarian was an aged turtle with glasses and chains to keep them from falling down.

“Ah, Principal Bump,” she said, “what brings you here?”

He had a stern look on his face. “I am sure that you know why I am here.”

As she was a turtle, the reptile took longer time to digest the brevity of the situation and slowly pushed herself out of her chair. “Follow me.”

Principal Bump groaned to himself, but he decided to follow the ancient beast anyway. The librarian wobbled on her short, stubby legs and clutched her cane to keep herself from falling on the ground. One instance, she fell on her back and remained in that defenseless state for a whole day. “Is your week going good?”

“Oh, it is,” Principal Bump lied, “just that I feel that some horrible force of evil is going to arrive at any minute as we speak.”

“Right, I completely understand,” the turtle replied, “steamed roots gives me gas.”

The turtle neared a book case and paused for a moment. Her heavy beak opened and closed. The loose skin on her arm vibrated when she reached for one of the books. Her claws withdrew a book, and she slid it out between two other books.

“Oh, would you look at that?” she asked “it’s the story of Otabin. Have you ever read it?”

Principal Bump face palmed. “Yes, I have; 65 years ago.” He stomped his foot impatiently. “Please, just hurry.”

“I’m going as far as I can,” she interjected.

Once the book was removed from its shelf, the ground shook. The middle of the case descended to reveal a secret door behind it. The turtle librarian lifted her finger in the air and swirled it. Fire formed above her finger to which she cast it into the entrance. The fire was that of a living creature with a mind of its own. It danced in the darkness of the secret room and jumped onto a series of torches. It gracefully plopped itself over the tops of the torches and lit them.

“Oh, I remember that it was lunch time,” the turtle librarian announced, “I’m going to head back; if you need anything, call me.”

“I will, thank you kindly,” Principal Bump replied. “Having steamed cabbage again?”

The librarian chuckled. “It either eats me or I eat it.”

She turned around to reveal the faded colors on the back of her shell. Much like Bump, she was an old soul in the Boiling Isles. So old enough, in fact, the library was built over her. The library was her home; she was familiar with every scrap of information native to the demon realm but ironically was unfamiliar with what happened outside of her sanctuary.

Principal Bump followed the lit torches down the hidden room. Cobwebs lined the wall and floors of the ancient halls. Taking a left, Principal Bump came upon a room containing ancient objects and artifacts. Spears and clubs. Torture devices such as ones designed to rip off fingernails or iron maidens. Even the bones of prehistoric anomalies alongside cases of animals forever asleep in jars filled with an entombing substance. Claws and teeth on shelves and basilisks and bowls meant to collect the contaminated blood of the victims of the basilisk’s deadly bite.

“I see that the turtle didn’t tidy this place up in years,” Principal Bump noted.

He skewered the room for the item of his inquiry. In the right side of the room was a desk made out of a petrified wood. Curious, he walked over and sat down on the chair. The splinters were poking into Principal Bump’s rear. He bit his tongue to keep from hissing. He sat there for a few seconds to allow the pain to fizzle out. Opening a drawer, Principal Bump allowed a slight smirk. He reached his hand into the drawer to obtain the object.

It was a book of indescribable size. The cover of the book possessed a bumpy, leather texture of some unknown material. Principal Bump held it with both of his hands and took a deep breath. “The Necronomicon; I never thought in my lifetime that I would face this book again.”

The Necronomicon; an ancient, dreaded piece of literature detailing information that no one – not mankind, or witch kind – should know. Information of the gods of old and where they once trekked and where they will once more. Spells of how to raise the dead and of essential salts. This book, baptized in a dark, malevolent evil, was one of a few copies of the original iteration of the book that was made thousands of years ago by the savior of the Boiling Isles when she sensed that Nyarlathotep could likely return to the Isles to bring it back to its days of chaos.

He slipped the book into his cloak’s pocket and turned to leave the macabre room. He had feared the worst: the very idea that someone or something managed to find his copy of the Necronomicon and intend on using it for their own nefarious purposes unsettled him greatly. As far as he was concerned, he could have sworn that other copies of the decrepit texts were purged during the time of the Savage Ages. The hooded figure had appointed several disciples with taking copies of the Necronomicon and distributing them to the furthest regions of the Boiling Isles. Generation after generation, witches passed down the task of protecting a copy of the book and taught the next generation of the dark magic.

As Principal Bump traversed down the hall, the school day was about to begin. Once more, everything seemed to be running smoothly, but something about it was growing unsettling. Everything was going too perfectly. Principal Bump’s trudging ceased to a stop.

Voom. Voom...voom..

A tremor shook the foundations of the school threatening to collapse. Cracks formed on the ceiling. Powdery balls sprinkled down accompanied by larger chunks of the ceiling caving in. Debris fell from the ceiling in the direction of some of the students.

“Look out!” Principal Bump yelled.

He swirled his finger and a green aura came out of his fingertip. Before the debris could fall on a group of students, he caught it with a shield made of the same aura. “Get out from under it before I lose grip of it!”

The students obeyed and fled. With them gone, Principal Bump dropped the piece of the ceiling, shattering it on the floor. At first relieved, from the corner of his eye, series of cracks formed on the ceiling. He repeated the magical spell, temporarily using it as a glue to hold the ceiling for as long as his elderly body could muster.

“Where did that quake come from?” Gus yelled.

“I have no idea,” Willow replied, “we may have to evacuate the school to avoid being buried alive.”

A blast of magic blew the entrance of the school off its hinges. The figure was initially unrecognizable from the thick smoke, but some students could vaguely make out who it was.”

“Hello, all! Your star has arrived!”

That voice. That bossy, demanding, condescending voice. The type of voice that would pierce your brain and throw you through the wringer. The smoke clearing away only made it more evident who it was.

“Boscha?” Skara announced. “Girl, where have you been?”

Boscha staggered herself into the school with her crutches. “Yeah, it’s me.”

She locked her three eyes on Willow. “Hello again, half-a-witch.”

Unnerved by the deathly coldness of her words, Willow spoke up. “Now Boscha, I want you to know that I had no intention of breaking your leg.”

Boscha held one of her crutches up and pointed it at her. “I don’t need any explanation from the likes of you.”

Willow noticed someone standing beside Boscha, a man she did not recognize. A tall man, roughly around six feet, and short black hair and a finely groomed mustache. He wore a classy uniform comprised of a dark black color. He had a vastness to him, most assuredly originating from his eyes. He struck Willow as a man who was always inquisitive and knowledgeable. He held out his hand to the three-eyed girl.

“Wait, dear protégé, remember what I told you.”

Boscha glared at him. “But you promised me that you’d help me get revenge on Willow.”

“There will come a time for that, I assure you, but may I remind you that we are here for one thing in particular?”

Boscha sighed. “Fine.”

Principal Bump took out a whistle and blew it. Within minutes, the guards arrived to detain the two. Principal Bump then ran in the opposite direction to avoid confrontation. The tall man chuckled in his monotonous tone and walked forward. He moved around gracefully like a swan his feet barely touching the ground. He hummed a tune to himself when the first guard made a grab at him. The man lifted his finger to the ceiling and without the guard having time to respond, he levitated the man and held him in the air for a few seconds.

“I apologize for the abruptness of my arrival, but I have an important date with your principal, so...”

He snapped his fingers and pitched the guard towards the lockers. The lockers shifted and contorted by the time the guard hit them. Instead of a hard metal, they were replaced with a clay-like substance. He sank deeper into the wet, squishy goo until only his chest and face stuck out. The man snapped his fingers again and returned the texture of the lockers to their metallic selves. The guard grunted and pulled but he was deeply wedged in the lockers.

He continued his uninterrupted waltz down the halls casually lifting the guards into the air and smashing them together to make them unconscious. The tall man continued to chuckle in the likeness of a hyena whilst carelessly pummeling legions of guards and tossing them into a pile. Making his way down the hall, he turned to look at his apprentice.

“Make sure that no one leaves until I have received what I wanted.” He could see that Principal Bump boarded himself in his office. “This could take a while.”

Boscha nodded and held her crutch out to direct the students. She forces them to huddle in the halls and demands them to sit. “I have been gone for a long time, you know.”

She eyed her classmates to see if they would respond. “I cannot even begin to think this is the same school; I have been away for a long time, but with my mentor’s help, I can bring the school back to its glory days.”

She noticed her rival and walked over to her to get down on her level. “Don’t think that the moment he allows me to enact my revenge that I will go easy on you.”

“What is it that you are suggesting, Boscha?” Willow asked. The half-witch spoke in a tone of utter defiance mixed in with annoyance. In some ways, she practically celebrated when she first heard that Boscha was missing. In fact, rumors had spread claiming that she was eaten by some monster. She knew it was too good to be true, but at the least she was having a field day of believing that she was free from her harassment.

“Much like how Amity did a duel with round eyes at that convention, I want to challenge you to a witches duel,” Boscha explained, “the loser becomes the punching bag for the rest of their lives.”

Willow rolled her eyes clearly not wanting to humor Boscha’s challenge. “If I win, will you not only leave me and my friends alone, but be forced to accept defeat?”

Boscha snickered in her typical superior way. “It’s not like you’d win, but if you want to die slower, it is a fair idea.”

Willow extended her hand so they could finalize the deal, but Boscha pulled out her purple scroll and browsed it. “My teacher always complained that I am rotting by brain by looking at my account, but his old butt doesn’t know a thing about how the Isles changed.”

She looked through the posts. “How is Amity?”

“She is with Luz now,” Willow mentioned passively, “they are doing...some odd experiment.”

“What does that human trash have that I don’t?” Boscha asked. She did not really anticipate an answer as it was more of a rhetorical rambling on her part. “Amity had gotten soft because of hanging out with you losers.”

Willow shrugged. “I don’t know...maybe because Luz is nice to her?”

Boscha ignored her response and paused on a picture. She brought the scroll down to Willow’s eye level. It was a picture of Skara and the others attending Cat’s birthday party. Willow, Luz, and Gus were there. “How in Titan’s name did you lame-os get invited anyway?”

“Skara invited us,” Gus said.

The three-eyed girls looked at Skara with scorn. “You’re friends with these losers now?”

Skara shook her head. “They’re not losers, they’re pretty cool.”

Skara took her bag and slipped out a flower that had a face similar to hers. “Willow made this for me.”

Boscha grabbed the flower and set it on fire. “You are sacrificing your social life for this nonsense!?” She face palmed and took a deep breath. “What else happened while I was away?”

Principal Bump cowered behind his desk but he also had a vase in his hand. He held it firmly between his hands. “I order you to leave the school at once!”

The man chuckled from outside the door. “So you are expelling me, old man?”

“I am warning you, if you don’t leave, I’ll...I’ll...”

The tall, lanky man was already standing in the room.

“Now, enough tomfoolery and let’s get to business.”

He sat in a chair paralleled with Principal Bump’s desk and held his hands up in a dipping motion. He intertwined his fingers before placing his chin on top. He stared at Principal Bump in a mockingly affectionate expression. “It’s been...how many years now, Mr. Bump?”

Mr. Bump did not say anything at first due to the dread causing his stomach to churn loudly. “What do you want, Nyarlathotep?”

Nyarlathotep chuckled in his deep voice. “My dear man, you of all people should have known already that I would be back.”

“If it is the Necronomicon you are seeking,” Principal Bump started, “I will have you know that the one page detailing the incantation to release your powers – page 217 – had been removed from every copy of the Necronomicon including the one that I was assigned with protecting.”

Nyarlathotep leaned back in his chair, gripping his chest. “You wound me immeasurably, old boy. But I must be the bearer of bad news.” He seized Principal Bump’s mug and drank the hot contents inside of it before speaking again. “I am well aware that you are hiding a secret from me.”

Principal Bump leaned forward. “Oh? Pray tell me what it is.”

“Since my return, I have been studying up on a few archives of the Isles,” Nyarlathotep explained, “and I discovered a lovely little monster.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Principal Bump stated.

Nyarlathotep grinned. “Precisely; I am sure you are familiar with Grometheus the Fear Bringer?”

Principal Bump tensed up. That terrible, blob abomination that every year they had to elect a Grom Queen to fight against it. An entity that could masquerade as the worst fears of its victims with the threat of its release spelling devastation for the denizens of the Boiling Isles. Months back, Grometheus was already bested. For Nyarlathotep to threaten to unleash this unholy beast, Bump shook his head.

“You can’t be serious?”

Nyarlathotep kept his grin pasted on his face. “I am afraid, old boy, that I am not bluffing.”

Principal Bump stammered. “But that beast could probably kill everyone on the Isles if you do such a thing.”

He clasped his hands together in a praying motion. “Please, Crawling Chaos, do not; please do not harm any of the students.”

Nyarlathotep gasped. “Oh, you worry your silly little head there, good sir; not one hair on their precious little heads will be disheveled.”

Principal Bump sighed in relief.

“As I am sure you can see, I am a fairly busy man,” Nyarlathotep explained, “we are both men in this scenario; I have been around making deals, biding time and drinking apple blood, the usual rendezvous.”

He leaned in again to stare at Principal Bump. “We are both reasonable; let me cut to the chase: I know that you have some ally on the Earth realm, and I would hope that you’d enlighten me on their whereabouts?”

“But I have made an oath years ago to protect the Necronomicon.”

Nyarlathotep raised an eyebrow. “I will present you with two events: either Grometheus is free to stretch his legs again and ravage and sow endless nightmares on you and your students; or subsequently, there lies a world where I receive the information I desire and you and your students will be safe and they will further their education unharmed.”

Principal Bump scratched his chin. “And I can trust you at your word?”

Nyarlathotep nodded. “Of course; shall we shake on it?”

Wary, Principal Bump extended his right hand and shook Nyarlathotep’s. Unbeknownst to him, Nyarlathotep had crossed the fingers of his other hand.

Boscha waited impatiently for her master’s return. He walked out with his smile even wider than before. She trudged towards him with her crutches. “What is the plan?”

“Once Miss Blight arrives with the Necronomicon containing the incantation for my powers, everything will change on the Isles.”

Boscha smiled. “So you’re going to rule the Isles again?”

Boscha’s smile dropped when she heard what her mentor said next.

“No; this world had grown ungrateful of the sacrifices I had given for them in order for them to perform magic. This world will be wiped clean and from there shall come a blank slate. From there, I will create a group of people who will have no inclination of resistance for they will not know about the insolence of the old generation. They shall become my people and I will become their god.”

Boscha almost fell backward. “But what about me?”

Nyarlathotep pet her shoulder. “You will be by my side as my acolyte. We shall watch together as this world dies and is blown away like dust in the wind.”

Boscha looked down to think. “But you promised me that I could get my revenge.”

Nyarlathotep held his hand up. “You can still have it; this world’s destruction will be imminent, but I do love a good duel.”

As they existed through the gaping hole that used to be the entrance, Nyarlathotep turned to face his protégé. “Did you keep the debris from falling?”

“Well, thanks to some of the power you gave me, sure,” Boscha replied, “but would it be better to just have it fall?”

“Boscha, Boscha, that would be wasting time that you could have preparing for your fight. But, please, do create a mirror field around the school. We wouldn’t want to have anyone potentially foiling our plans.”

The three-eyed girl nodded and held her hands out. Glass began to form around the outer portion of Hexside. Before long, the glass completely encased the school. One of the students ran towards the entrance only to bounce off the glass. “We’re stuck!”

Nyarlathotep chuckled. “That is how it felt to be trapped in glass for thousands of years; it gives you such displeasure.”

Boscha looked at the school. “Why this?”

“Much like observing a mouse in a vivarium to study, the students and faculty will be trapped, desperately searching for a way out of their maze, but all points lead to a dead end.”

With that, the two made a leave for Belos’ empire.

#owl house #the owl house #nyarlathotep #crossover #fanfiction #owl house fanfiction #the owl house fanfiction #cthulhu #cthulhu mythos

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nataliabernardo314 · 3 years

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Don't underDRESSSimate me!

By Natalia Chel A. Bernardo

"Don't be into trends. Don't make fashion own you, but you decide what you are, what you want to express by the way you dress and the way to live."

—Gianni Versace

From the days of our parents, grandparents, great grandparents, and even until now, people appear to criticize women for what they wear; if it doesn't meet their concept of what's "appropriate," they would be criticized by carious individuals in the society. If you're a woman, you've experienced something similar at some time in your life. It starts at an early age, with school dress regulations prohibiting tank tops as being too disruptive for the learning environment. And it just keeps going from there.

Whenever I feel confident, I always wear lounge pants paired with a crop top, it’s my on-the-go outfit wherever I go, this will be one of the best outfits out there and make me feel beautiful and a model of a luxury branded clothes.

Women are referred described as "slutty" when they wear too little, short, and “revealing” – term described by most people - clothes. They are, however, chastised for overdressing, such as when they do so because of their religion and belief. There doesn't appear to be any way to succeed to express themselves because of these chained traditions.

In addition, this correspondence only does harm to women who are humiliated because their attire is classified as a wrong doing for their sex, and it also has social ramifications, or also known as the discriminatory and unequal acts between the two sexes. If society continues to view this conduct as completely good and acceptable, it will be a never ending cycle of stereotypical matter between individuals. It's promoting the notion that everything is ‘OKAY' for us women to experience this type of treatment because it is what the generations of women experienced all their lives.

Whenever I feel to have some boyish vibe or something sporty outfit, I always wear varsity dress or something, football oversized shirts paired with some plain kicks and cap simple but swag looking.

Finding clothing that makes us feel good may be tricky. When a woman is assessed only based on her appearance, her self-esteem suffers immediately. She may have experimented with her style or worn a lovely new dress and felt fantastic, but she will believe it isn't good enough the moment someone comments her outfit negatively or no would even compliment it at all. The size of one woman would also drastically affect the opinion of the society, one would say, “Ay antaba mo na, papayat ka para magka-boyfriend kana.” Which, from the speaker’s perspective would be viewed as a positive intention but the receiver would interpret it as an offensive manner. And because of that people would be more conscious to hide these insecurities because of the opinion of the society.

Whenever I want to wear some girly and cute outfit, I always wear Korean skirts and some unique top together with high heels boots, I always wear this kind of clothing whenever there’s an occasion I have to attend to with my friends of family.

Furthermore, we all know that sexual assault and rape are awful and that they are a problem in our society, but we also know that the reasons individuals justify it are a problem. People will claim that a woman was "asking for it" because of how she was dressed at the attack time. They imply that the clothing she was wearing indicated that she had given her consent or that the attire caused the assaulter to lose control. In the legal system, clothing has been adequately blamed for sexual assault. And that isn't very comforting. But it has to come to an end. We women mustn’t digest this culture but change it; women mustn’t adjust if men are having malicious thoughts if we are wearing exposed outfits. Men should vanquish those thoughts and be a respectful gentleman because women don’t complain if they are topless or whatever they are wearing. Never blame us women when we are sexual harassed, STOP VICTIM BLAMING and say that we are the ones who chose to wear sexy outfits and as a result we should be expected or be targeted by men because it is their nature to be… horny. Don’t excuse your wrong doing for the way your nature or instinct, what is wrong is wrong.

Whenever I feel like having some time to just chill out all day, I prefer to wear fitted skirt, with turtle neck glittery top paired with denim polo blazer, my vibe as a girly turn into chill out girl with limit and have some party with girls.

Society must cease evaluating people based on what they wear, as this degrades others who look up to them. Everyone should express themselves, and for many people, clothing is their primary means of doing so. People criticizing others based on their dress choices was on full display during Halloween. Tweets and postings were attacking individuals who wore 'too exposing' costumes filled social media. But why is it that individuals are concerned with what other people are wearing? What effect is it having on you? The simple answer is that it does not. So, if expressing oneself is frowned upon, how are you expected to demonstrate who you are without being judged? Stop criticizing others based on their clothing choices and instead let them express themselves in whichever way they desire.

When I feel I want to go back to the time when I was a kid who always wear jumper paired with sweater top and old school sneakers go to my happy place which is the playground buy some cotton candy and my favorite character in balloon way.

We mustn’t allow to let other people dictate what we should wear or what we should listen to, no matter the gender, sex, size, and the likes; instead, let's listen to how we feel and do what would make us happy and improve our self-confidence. So, don’t judge people based on their outfit, we all deserve to wear what we want with no stereotypical mindset of the society. Fashion is a way to be unique, to be ourselves with comfort and confidence. So, be yourself- Be confidently fashionable, with a heart.

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bobmccullochny · 3 years

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November History

November 1 1512 – Michelangelo’s paintings on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, Italy were first exhibited. He started the work in 1508. 1570 – The All Saints’ Flood devastated the Dutch coast.

1604 – William Shakespeare’s tragedy The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice was first presented.

1611 – Shakespeare’s romantic comedy The Tempest was first presented

1755 (Earthquake & Tsunami) Lisbon, Portugal – an estimated 10,000-100,000 people were killed

1775 (Earthquake) Kashan, Iran -estimated 40,000 killed

1834 – First published reference to poker (as a Mississippi riverboat game) Originally 20 cards were used, and the 52 card deck appeared before 1850.

1867 – Harper’s Bazaar issue #1 was published. It was America’s first fashion-oriented magazine.

1879 – Thomas Edison signed the patent application for his electric lamp (approved on January 27 1880 Patent #223,898).

1884 – Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) was adopted universally at a meeting of the International Meridian Conference in Washington, DC.

1896 – Zulu groom and bride (a bare-breasted woman) appeared in National Geographic Magazine. The magazine began publication in October of 1888.

1924 – First US NHL franchise, Boston Bruins was founded. The Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs were the first to form and the addition of the Chicago Blackhawks, Detroit Red Wings, and New York Rangers made the Original Six teams.

1945 – First issue of Ebony magazine published by John H Johnson. The first magazine he started was ‘The Negro Digest’ (later called Black World) in 1942.

1951 – Jet magazine was founded by John H Johnson. In 1996, President Bill Clinton bestowed the Presidential Medal of Freedom on Johnson.

1952 – Operation Ivy – The United States successfully detonated the first large hydrogen bomb, codenamed “Mike” [“M” for megaton], in the Eniwetok atoll, located in the Marshall Islands in the central Pacific Ocean.

1960 – While campaigning for President of the United States, John F. Kennedy announced his idea of the Peace Corps.

1967 – Cool Hand Luke starring Paul Newman, George Kennedy, and Strother Martin, was released. “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.”

1968 – The Motion Picture Association of America’s film rating system was officially introduced, originating with the ratings G, M, R, and X.

1977 – Chiron, the farthest known asteroid was discovered by Charles Kowal. Chiron is named after the wisest of the Centaurs of Greek mythology.

1979 – Federal (US) government made a $1.5 billion loan guarantee for Chrysler. The government basically ‘cosigned’ a loan to keep the company in business.

1981 – First Class US Mail raised from 18 cents to 20 cents. Prior to the use of stamps, postage was paid for by the receiver, not the sender.

1996- The original cartoon series of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles aired its final episode. Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird invented the TMNT in 1984 in comic book form.

2012 – Google’s Gmail became the world’s most popular email (Electronic mail) service. Microsoft’s Hotmail was the leader before that. Although Yahoo actually has the most registered users, it is/was not used as much as the others.

#today's smile #November History #Cool Hand Luke

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istherewifiinhell · 1 year

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[coughs up blood] we finished season 4 👍🏻

goth turtles below

formated how it is cause. i cannot be assed anymore. no alt text but image descriptions follow every 2 images.

[All 2012 turtles in gothy grunge get up. Black masks, scrap metal armour pieces, extra weapons, more wraps, fish net sleeves, chains, and black make up worm in different ways on their faces and shell. The additions have personal touches like a gear cog elbow cover on Donnie, a drum symbol vambrace on Mikey, and sports gear like pads on Raph]

[ID: 1. All four in action poses, left to right, Raph standing turned slightly away, Mikey crouched up front, Leo standing center back, chin raised, Donnie lunging right with bo staff up. Raph's mask is a hood. Mikey's makeup looks like it was applied to his finger tips, and then smeared 3 lines diagonal down his face one way, and on his chest the other.

2. All turtles, and April and Casey, hands raised in a cheer. We see Donnie with light-bulbs filled with chemicals, Leo's new dark brown swords, and bow and quiver on his back, and Raph's black shell markings making an X shape. END]

[ID: 1. Donnie, glaring mad at Mikey who looks smug, Leo looking on wide eyed. We can see Leo's eye make up are 3 streaks under both eyes like tear tracks.

2. All four, battle ready, in profile, aligned left. Under purple orange starry sky. From farthest to nearest, Raph, one sai poised up, Mikey leaning forward arms back, Leo snarling, swords low. Donnie, back to camera, bo staff forward. END]

[ID: 1. Leo and Mikey in low crouches, Leo on a small roof ledge, Mikey clinging to metal stair railings. We see Mikey has spiky straps over his shell.

2. Leo, determined, hand at his sword hilt, Donnie behind, weapon not drawn. END]

[ID: 1. Mikey, Raph and Donnie, closer head shots, profile. The starry sky above, lit with bright warm light from in front. We can see Donnie has many necklaces, (or one many corded one), in a choker style.

2. April, Leo, and Raph, mid jump into battle, weapons drawn. Raph's make up applied like anti sun glare marks. END]

[ID: 1. Donnie, running forward, bo in hand. Mask tails trailing behind him, the ends are purple. Eye make up making vertical lines through both eyes.

2. Raph, profile, teeth grit, stabbing into an electronic panel, the blue arcs lighting him. We see he has a full metal curved plate over his shell. END]

^not pictured but they all have the ombre mask tails <3

#some shit #turbles...#I think. i mentioned everything i meant to...... i hope #they areeeee. going thru some things.... which things?? : 3 well.#i love them tho.....#turtle fashion digest #pretty.... girl. moments....

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mcat720 · 5 years

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*SPOILERS!!

One of the best things about watching the IT miniseries today, is that I appreciate the chemistry between the adult losers and how I really think they did a great job at casting. You fully believe they were those kids and are dealing with that unresolved trauma. The book definitely has more detail into their lives as adults and why they can’t remember their past. With this new interpretation of the story I had very high standards of who was going to play the new adult losers club. The kids in Chapter One were so perfect and fully realized that it’s hard to capture that magic twice with completely different people playing the same part. I couldn’t be more happy and relieved that it was this particular cast of actors. They totally nailed it for me. They give those friendships such weight and purpose that it’s so believeable to step right back into who they were to each other even after forgetting for 27 years. They immediately are in their same roles as they were as kids and the bond holds up as something that can’t be broken. Eddie and Richie in particular are just so great you want to smile every time they are on screen. Mike is brought forth as a force of determination in defeating IT, Ben is the heartfelt peacemaker, Bill is their leader who never gives up, and Bev is a complete badass. Even though we didn’t get to see much of him, Stan was a big part of their collective story and was always looking out for his friends even if it broke their hearts. Pennywise comes back in a big way for the losers and his hold on them speaks to the fears and unresolved issues we carry with us growing up. The losers have to face not only the Clown, but the deepest parts of themselves. The biggest surprise and most impactful part to me was Richies arch through the film. We not only learn he’s gay (or at least attracted to men as he never really says he is gay out loud) that he was publicly shamed and humiliated by Bowers (which is ultimately a big reason he jokes so much and probably never admitted it even to himself) and that he had deep feelings for Eddie (another member of the losers club). His lack of acknowledgement towards the subject of his sexuality is very interesting and the hints are so subtle, the big reveal at the end almost knocks you back. If you never read the book and didn’t know of the decades long debate of Reddie, you would be forgiven your surprise at this conclusion. There are so many ways they could have played that relationship and I’m so glad they finally decided to make it an official, albeit tragic, love story. I was always curious as to how they would do the ending... it’s batshit crazy but in a good way! The whole giant spider thing and ritual of Chüd can be shown in a spectacular fashion and I’m glad they just went with a more digestible explanation of ITs origin and the dead lights. Introducing a multiverse and giant turtle while playing a battle of wills style war taking place in bills head is harder to visually get. The final show down was pretty fucking wild and I never thought you could bully a cosmic monster to death and make it make sense.. Eddies death is emotional and heartbreaking naturally and you just want to scream about him being left behind even if it would make sense because they had to crawl through tunnels and run through the sewer, which would be impossible with a body on your back but still it sucks.. I found it so beautiful that moment in the water while Richie breaksdown and the losers comfort him without any words. It was one of my favorite parts of the movies to see them have some release of sadness and relief that their plight is over. Them being able to leave Derry and still remember each other and what they went through is a great change from the book. I always thought it was so much sadder not having the good memories with the bad in the end so I’m glad they can move on in their own lives but also with each other. This had the laughs, the scares, and alll the feels. Highly recommended and love it. 🎈

#it2movie #pennywise #losers club #chapter two #it movie #horror #apprication post #pennywise the clown #stephen king #bill hader #james mcavoy

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ducknotinarow · 1 year

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Raphael: How can you put up with someone so very vain? Yvonne cares for no one but her herself; she only likes you because you hold benefit to her - you saw her true colours, when she insulted you and your entire family because she couldn’t control her anger. Why oh why would you ever feel anything towards someone like that? Just because she has trash taste doesn’t mean you have to have trash taste in return.

| Harass my muse

Call him a simple guy cause well he was and there wasn’t a thing wrong with that right? But nothing made the snapper happier than when he got to catch those glimpses of Yvonne doing her own thing. Look for many reasons it just made him happy to watch her enjoying herself rather that be when she was in the middle of sketching out outfit designs, or working in her shop. Which he dropped into for a little surprise visit hey that’s was the perk of being her boyfriend right? Getting to pop in and out when ever he had the chance. Thanks to Yvonne living in the Hidden City it had made him pretty versed in all the portals in the surface that took him back here and even which one lead closest to her shop, so the visits were very often. Hey he was still being good and training and such buuuut part of being in a relationship was also making sure you spent plenty of time together. Like once a day least that how it was for Raph and Yvonne. An she had made a visit to the surface so clearly he owned one back not too long after she had just seen him.

But, seemed she was a tad tied up in the moment. Raph just offered a little wave of his hand her way so she could at least be made ware of the fact he was there. She had a few costumers lounging about inside the shop wandering and looking at some of her stuff. She was talking to one of them. Raph was curious if they were looking to buy or just look around? hmm maybe he could help?

YEAH! Excited at his own idea as he casually and flawless made his way over to the other yokai in the shop. And he only knocked over one rack of clothing, of course he was fast to scramble and pick it up offering a smile at the yokai he got the attention of. “Sooooo uh you findin’ things fine?” He offered as he set his hands to his hips. “If ya need help just ask me, I’m here lots so I can tell you what the best stuff is. Spoiler it’s everythin’” he beams a little “My gal has the greatest eye for fashion that way she got four of them!” Holding up one hand full as he then needed to hold up a finger from his other to have the total of four he needed to make his point. He was totally nailing this sale clearly! “But I’m sure it makes it overwhelming I mean she makes all the best things after all all her uh stitches are very uh threaded?” He shrugs his shoulders a bit okay it was clear he didn’t work here, reaching back to rub at his neck and smile sheepishly to the yokai “heh sorry I don’t know a thing bout clothes well I mean I know what clothes are but I ain’t got a clue bout style and such I’m just datin’ the owner and wanna help but I’m biased cause Von is the best! Oh and she is the best at making clothes and the other things too!” He added in still trying to give some help to his girl here.

How can you put up with someone so very vain? Yvonne cares for no one but her herself; she only likes you because you hold benefit to her - you saw her true colours, when she insulted you and your entire family because she couldn’t control her anger. Why oh why would you ever feel anything towards someone like that? Just because she has trash taste doesn’t mean you have to have trash taste in return.

Raph sort of just paused for a moment, blinking in silence as he needed to digest the words that had just come his way. “W-what?” He stuttered out a little okay some of that made sense to be brought up maybe but still a lot of that was pretty personal. Didn’t stop the turtle’s face from scrunching up in annoyance “She ain’t like that you dip” Raph snapped back with suddenly how dare they insult her like that. “There ain’t a thing wrong with her she ain’t vain sure she likes looking nice and gets upset when I drag her outta her home to get check up on till in her pj’s but to be fair she told me she was dying how else ami meant to react to that Yvonne!” Spending a second to look her way when he yelled, though on second glance Yvonne was there? Did she leave? He shook his head and looked back to the yokai. “And Yvonne don’t only care bout her self she cares so much that she got used by people who never ever should do that to yous. Family meant to be there for you not make you feel like some, some tool or resource of income!” Okay maybe he hadn’t voiced this out before but when he had learned the truth about Yvoone’s family well most of it. It hadn’t set right with him to hear how Yvonne was pretty much used by them. “An’ even after that she still care I see how she is with my bros she don’t gotta put up with ‘em but she dose! She tried to help Leo when he was dumb and she always trying to considerate to Don. She breaks her toaster once a week so he an fix it for her even just cause she knows how he is. She always lookin’ out or me too. Which..it’s nice having someone look out for me for a change of pace.” That spurt of fire dying a moment as he thought on the last part smiling to himself over it, balling up his hands into tightly bound fists now.

“Yvonne had ever’y right to be mad at us though she wasn’t herself she was angry and upset I only ever been like this I never lived a like pops did. Pop lost a lot when he got mixed up with mutants and what ever too. Yvonne ain’t no different.” After all Raph saw how often his dad couldn’t so much as bring himself to move off his chair sometimes only to look just so..down and beaten. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly he needed to shake some thoughts trying to creep into his mind it wasn’t the time to focus on that right now he was defending his girl.

"Yvonne may have trash taste when it comes to me but I eat litteraly everything I can and I got no idea what style is always gotta have my bros check my looks. But I know this Yvonne is the most amazing thing to ever happen to me! Gor once I got someone looking put for my back. She dose her best to keep be grounded when I fly off the handle and she's always in my corner....and it's nice. Even when things feel too much she holds my hand and pats my head and let's me set my head on her shoulder even." His voice slowly drips from rage in to softer reflection. "I don't know where I'd be with out her."

Gritting his teeth a bit " Yvonne is to classy a lady for you to see what makes her so great. She tries to get into things I like, she looks out for and after my brothers, she adorable and lottle bashful which is even more adorable despite the fact she has way more experience than I do and yeah that intimidates me a lot! But she's patient with me and and." He's having trouble talking as angers building again lifting an arm up only to slam it hard against the counter space beside him. And though it stung a little some other sounds didn't make sense? Some glass fell and shattered but there was only clothing there? Green eyes forced themself open as Raph found himself in the living room he had passed out at the coffee talbe...well the now broken coffee table well break anything that was on it. Lost in his daze as he looked around where was everyone else? Bed maybe? He went to rub at his eye catch sight if the red fabric in his hand. Turning it over eyeing the fabric was now shredded up into strips of fabric. He was working on something for Yvoone, was that why he had that dream?

...he didn't think about her right? Dream can just be dreams after all? Shaking his head. No he defended her it was doubt fuilds affecting him that's all. Why would Yvoone say yes after all?

#muse| hamato raphael #aflockoffeathers #madamkezzie #[ ones trash is anothers treasure aflockoffeathers]#harras my muse meme #stay queued #((Raph I hype man and defender uwu))#((also do know Raph gonna feel guilty about a dream he has no control over u_u))

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ladykeane · 4 years

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Bertie and Reg dress up for Halloween at Dahlia's!! and the party!!!

To the lovely Nonny who sent this, I profusely apologise if you’re not the massive weeb/animation geek that I am. But this idea stuck, and I couldn’t help myself!

Fair warning, it’s quite silly, most definitely cracky, and completely self indulgent…

There was a lesson given to me by my drama teacher at school, Mrs Irving, that has always stayed with me. The gist of her teaching was that a good actor must have a sort of dual consciousness. I suppose what she meant was that a chap should have the power to transform his mindset into that of the character he plays - and then just as easily slip back into his usual mental space, once the curtain falls. There must co-exist a Bertie-the-Wooster and Bertie-the-Prince-Hal within a single animal. Well, I suppose I have put this lesson to good use in my adult life, as I can attest that Bertie-the-Drone, Bertie-the-obedient-nephew and Bertie-the-seducer-of-certain-Jeeveses manage to be conjured at the drop of a whatsit.

A particularly surprising example of this dual consciousness wheeze occurred just recently, on the night of Aunt Dahlia’s annual Halloween bash. I suppose the lifted veil to the spirit world aided this shift of the Wooster disposish. (Well, the costume probably helped too, not to mention my dear auntie’s insistence that her party guests never drop out of character for the whole of the evening. That can make certain things a tad awkward, such as bathroom ablutions. One must ask: does Superman use the lavatory at all?)

I was given the scoop on the event by my ancestor over the phone, as I sat digesting a fourth-or-fifth slice of Reg’s birthday cake. (This year he had requested a Black Forest, and I have to say that I outdid myself. The leftover kirsch was also a boon.)

‘Super-groups?’ I asked. ‘You mean like the Travelling Wilburys?’‘No, young clot, I mean super-groups like the Avengers, Justice League, and their lycra-clad ilk. The group with the best costumes and most convincing delivery will receive a prize from your Uncle Tom and myself.’‘Ooh! And what is that?’‘For one, a cooking lesson with Anatole. Apparently he owed Reg a favour, and your man generously donated said favour to me.’I glanced an appreciative glance at my beloved, who sat perusing the W.H. Auden anthology I had given him.‘Secondly, a near-pristine Nintendo Gamecube, complete with controllers and a collection of best-selling game cartridges.’‘You mean the one you confiscated from Angela and myself? I still think that was an unfair punishment.’‘I say, it was entirely fair! Do you forget that I got stuck with the bill to clean your old headmaster’s office!? I am told that the stench of baked beans can still be detected throughout the school halls, to this very day! Anyway, I would advise you to get cracking. The competition will be stiff, I hear Angela’s little friends have been working on their costumes since August. Perhaps you and Reg could go as Batman and Robin!’‘Perhaps, auntie.’‘Well, pip-pip then. I’ve got many a fake tombstone and skeleton to haul down from the attic.’

As I hung up, Reg raised his head from his book. ‘I believe Mrs Travers has briefed you on this year’s Halloween festivities?’‘Indeed. She’s never offered a prize for the guests before. They’re real plums, at that. I reckon it would be well worth the splurge to get some first-rate togs.’‘May I ask what this year’s theme is?’‘Super-groups. By which I mean, groups of superheroes. She suggested we go as Batman and Robin! We’re already quite the dynamic duo, anyway. What d’you think?’

As I uttered these words, the Jeevesian brow began sinking south, until the look on his face chilled the lukewarm cup of tea sitting at my elbow.‘I should say not, Bertram.’‘Oh. Well… what about Danger Mouse and Penfold? You could be DM, of course.’‘I regret that I shall be unable to attend this year’s festivities. I have much to do to complete the Earl of Rowcester’s living will.’

Of all the paper-thin excuses! ‘Oh, don’t give me that Reg! What is it? You don’t care to be in the same room as all that brightly-coloured spandex? You fared just fine at last year’s “Stranger Things” soiree, and we were surrounded by a multitude of eighties fashion, at that!’(He made quite the dashing Steve Harrington, actually. Aunt Dahlia cast this Bertram as Dustin, so while I was able to tag after him all night there was an unfortunate dearth of snogging.)‘I am afraid I must insist. I do not care to be dressed in the bright, garish apparel that is requisite of superheroes.’

Given that it was the lowly rotter’s birthday, I held on to the flames that should have escaped from my nostrils. ‘Oh, very well, Reg. Have it your way.’ To ensure that none of my internal invective against him slipped past the Wooster lips, I left the flat for a sullen trudge about Mayfair.

***

That very evening, Bingo Little summoned self and several other Drones to dinner. He was in town with his husband Randy, to look for a property where they could spend their Winters. While the reports given indicated that all was spiffy within their NYC townhouse, Randy wanted to ensure that his paramour did not lose touch with his British roots. And I think I remembered him saying that his next novel was to be set in South Kensington, inspired by the likes of Richard Curtis and Hugh Grant. All rather convenient, no?

‘That Gamecube and cooking lesson with Anatole is as good as ours, lads. I have the perfect idea for our super-group.’ Here Bingo took a long sip of tea, leaving us in a state of eye-boggling suspense.‘Christ and his disciples?’ suggested Stinker.‘The Bloomsbury Group?’ queried Boko.‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?’ asked Gussie.

‘Better,’ Bingo finally replied, a rivulet of tea dribbling down his chin. ‘Do you know “Sailor Moon”?’

‘Sparkly schoolgirl with the pigtails? Yes, I recall watching the English language version with Angela sometimes. Quite a cheesy romp, that.’‘Oh, you ought to read the original manga ,’ said Boko. ‘A perfect blend of costumed superhero action and romantic high fantasy!’

For the next half hour, we were subject to Boko and Bingo giving us a full synopsis of the dratted space opera, complete with character studies, mythological references, and feminist overtones. Now, I have known my fellow Drones to sometimes possess hidden depths, but I was unsure whether this encyclopedic grasp of a Japanese super-girl-group was more of a mild pathology instead.

‘So,’ Bingo announced, ‘I believe I’ve figured out the perfect casting for each of us. I shall be Sailor Venus, of course, the soldier of love. Randy does call me his golden love god, after all.’ (Pause here for requisite retching.) ‘Gussie can be Sailor Mercury, given his general… wateriness. Boko’s love of house plants is perfect for Sailor Jupiter. And due to his spiritual calling, Stinker will be Sailor Mars, the shrine-maiden.’

I was trying to picture each of my chums kitted out in a colour coded schoolgirl costume. Perhaps we would score points for comedic effect, if nothing else.‘And what about me?’ I asked.‘Well, you’ll be our Sailor Moon, naturally.’‘Golly! I must say, Bingo, I’m quite chuffed to be given the starring role. I assume that it’s due to my former experience with drag, not to mention my theatrical prowess and general heroic gravitas.’‘Well… I suppose. It’s also because Sailor Moon is supposed to be a ditzy blonde crybaby.’‘Ah.’The judicious nods that the others gave were a tad insulting.

‘Does this mean that I’ll have to wax? ’ asked Gussie.

***

Now, if you’ve ever seen the much-celebrated cartoon, you’ll know that one of the highlights of every episode is the spangly transformation sequences, where each heroine morphs from humdrum schoolgirl into celestial warrioress. Our first go at donning the famous fuku was much less glamorous.

Boko knew a chap who knew a lass who worked at a highly-regarded fancy dress company. Apparently, many a masquerade-goer and cosplayer has raved about their beautifully crafted goods. As we trundled our way out their HQ on the tube, we were all in high hopes of scoring the perfect outfits. As it happens, the fitting session that followed made me appreciate just how inadequate the standard sizing of womens’ apparel really is.

Bingo and I had the best luck, but the costumes closest to fitting us were narrow in the shoulders and wide in the hips. Gussie managed to squeeze into one of the larger sizes, but resembled more of a wrinkly chicken sausage than a cute superheroine. (The skirt was appallingly short on him, and when he bent over to grab his phone from his bag I was quite traumatised.) Stinker, who is built akin to a silverback gorilla, utterly utterly destroyed the costume he attempted to yank on. I offered to foot the bill for that one, as a vicar’s salary can only cover so many breakages per month.

‘It’s no good, boys,’ sighed the seamstress who had patiently assisted us, ‘you’ll need to get these custom-made.’‘And how long will that take?’ asked Bingo.She put on a brave face. ‘I’ll do my best to get them ready for Halloween, but bear in mind I’ve already got a backlog of orders to finish.’‘Chin up!’ I replied. ‘I can probably ask a favour of the drag queen who did my costuming for “Legally Blonde” - Reg cut her a sweet deal with a new agent at the time. I’ll ask if she can source the shoes and wigs and things.’

A level of relief washed on to the girl’s face at this. I’d feel the same, if I were freed from the task of cobbling a pair of Stinker Pinker-sized red pumps.‘Even so, we’ll be cutting it close with this order. I doubt I’ll be done before the morning of the 31st.’‘Send me the bill for your energy drinks,’ I offered.‘It’s a deal.’

***

Time ticked on, and All Hallows Eve drew near. While I did my best not to harbour any full-on wrath against Reg at his blowing-off of the party, I couldn’t help but act a tad pipped towards him. Were lurid leotards and shiny accessories really so horrid?When he snuggled close to me on the sofa, I scooched away. When he dropped a kiss upon my map, my only response was tight-lipped disinterest. The blighter refused to compromise, so wherefore should this Wooster succumb to his entreaties? I took a lot of cold showers that week.

The big day came, and still nary a costume was yet received.‘5pm, she said,’ Boko told me, ‘and we’ll have to go and pick them up ourselves.’‘Hm, that is cutting it close. Well, bear up, old fruits! Leather Smalls will be along this arvo to do our make-up and hair.’‘Leather Smalls?’‘Didn’t I tell you? She’s part of an all-drag M People tribute act.’

If I can impart to you the experience of tubing it across suburban London in a long blonde, pigtailed wig, a full face of makeup, and masculine civvies, accompanied by four other similarly styled blokes, you probably wouldn’t doubt my claim that it was one of the more surreal experiences in my life. Halloween is not quite the big deal here that it is across the pond, so we got quite the share of wolf whistles, disapproving auntly glares, and ‘yaaaas, queen’s from our fellow travellers.

At last, at last, we arrived at Brinkley Court, freshly finished costumes in hand. The coloured lights, costumed crowd, and strains of ‘Monster Mash’ from within indicated a party already in full swing.As we entered the front door, I grabbed for the first bowl of sweets I could find, given my lowered blood sugar.‘That’s it!? Gawd, Bertie, you could have at least made an effort!’

Angela had grabbed one of the sweets from my hand and popped it in her mouth. I wasn’t quite sure who she was supposed to be, but her costume was really quite the thing.She was caked head-to-toe in light purple body paint, with a long wig in a paler shade of the same colour. A brilliant gem was affixed to her chest, and she wielded a long double-headed whip. I did not feel inclined to backtalk her.‘So who’ve you come as?’‘One of the Crystal Gems, obvs. Anyway, you need to go easy on those. Mum says that some neighbourhood bullies have been stealing sweets from the trick-or-treating kids, and she’s promised to recompense them.’‘What!?’My blood was now boiling - what lowly cad felt the need to scam helpless rugrats out of their jelly babies and smarties?

‘Oh, it’s awful,’ said Aunt Dahlia, swiping the remaining sweets from my hand and depositing them back in their bag. ‘I just saw Captain America crying his poor little eyes out, being comforted by Bucky Barnes. A whole evening’s worth of trick-or-treating swag, stolen from them by three nasty teenagers!’‘She means Thos and Edwin,’ Angela translated.‘What teenagers?’ asked Stinker.‘Some of the nastier upperclassmen from Eton, apparently. Captain America tells me that they have a reputation for bullying even the house masters and head teachers. Great brutes.’‘Rum,’ I said. ‘But, Aunt Dahlia-’‘Who?’I took in my auntie’s costume.‘But, Catwoman, hasn’t anyone tried to pull them up for it?’‘They’ve been too wily. I was told that they also egged the Emsworths’ place, running off onto Ham Common before anyone could catch them.’‘Travesty!’ cried Boko. ‘They can’t get away with this!’‘Too right!’ I said.‘Well? You lot are supposed to be the Sailor Senshi, aren’t you? You fight for love and justice, yes?’‘Er…?’‘You must transform, and thwart the damned villains!’

The Drones and I shared a look askance. ‘Um.’‘May I remind you, Sailor Moon, of the video games and French cuisine that are up for grabs for the group who best embodies their chosen superheroes?’‘Right ho. Moon Prism Power Make Up, then!’

***

We stampeded upstairs, bottlenecking on the landing, and Stinker stumbled noisily upon the top step. Into my old bedroom, and our everyday trappings were cast off in favour of our splendid, sparkly sailor ensembles.It was a bit of a muddle - the others needed help donning their padded brassieres, not to mention adjusting their skirts to preserve modesty. But after a few fumbling minutes, we were ready to go, as resplendent a team of magical girls as Brinkley Court had ever seen.

I allowed myself an indulgent linger before the full-length mirror. I really did look cute. The big pink bow was quite flattering to my proportions, and the blue skirt and collar set off my eyes nicely.‘Come on, Sailor Moon! We’ve got a contest to win!’With a flick of my pigtails, I was off.

Bursting out of Brinkley’s front door again, we charged into the gloaming. The place looks directly out over Ham Common, and on the great stretch of lawn, it did not take us long to spot the perps.

A juvenile, quivering Wallace and Gromit were surrounded by three of the largest, most grotesque teenage boys that I’d ever beheld. Though a good decade younger than myself, they looked to be twice my height and about four times my body weight. Most ghastly of all were their choices of costume: the ringleader was dressed as Pennywise the Clown, with his two lieutenants cast as Thanos and a zombie version of Napoleon Dynamite. I admit that the hint of rotten green brain showing through his blonde afro was an impressive use of make-up, but it did turn my stomach a tad.

Just before they could rip the trick-or-treat bags from the youngsters, I put a solid, heeled boot forward.‘Leave those beloved icons of childrens’ entertainment alone!’‘Hurrr,’ slurred Thanos, ‘check out the anime drag queens.’‘Wanna come party with us, girls?’ said Pennywise. ‘We got heaps of sweeties for the sweeties!’I puffed out my padded chest. ‘Never! I stand for love and justice! And… by the Code of the Woosters, I shall punish you!’

And so it began. We swooped upon them. Wallace and Gromit scarpered, and we were met with a barrage of large humbugs. When thrown with enough velocity, those things can leave a bruise.

Behind me, Gussie boldly came up bearing a large garden hose. He turned the nozzle on the head, but instead of dousing the monsters, the force of the spray was a bit too much for him, and he clung on for dear life as the hose thrashed about in his arms. He quickly went down in a self-inflicted mud puddle.

Stinker managed to plant a shiner of a right hook on Thanos. The brute staggered away, doubled over in pain. He threw off his plastic infinity gauntlet, upon which Stinker tripped magnificently, going pumps over skirt into the turf as well.

Boko fearlessly leapt upon Napoleon’s back, wrapping his noodly arms about an equally noodly neck. Napoleon bucked about like a bronco with a bad itch. Boko did his best to hang on, but the slippery satin gloves ultimately betrayed him, and the poor soul was flung off into a nearby rose bush.

The three monsters continued running from us. It was just me and Bingo now. We exchanged a silent glance of Sailor Senshi solidarity, as we pursued them towards a clump of oak trees.With a well aimed stomp, Bingo got Pennywise right in the oversized foot, with the heel of his pump. However, before I could back him up, the two lieutenants grabbed my chum and snatched his wig by its red ribbon, hurling it up into the branches of one of the trees.‘NOT MY VENUS WIG!’Abandoning the skirmish, Bingo pathetically began clambering up the branches to try and retrieve the thing. (I mean, it was a nice wig. And if it came back damaged, I would be owing Leather Smalls big time.)

And so, the beasts turned their attention to me. Three cruel grins bore down upon me like vultures on a dying wildebeeste. They looked like they could easily pummel me into a boneless mush, and not even feel it the next day. I’m not too proud to admit that I quivered in my heeled boots.‘What was that about punishing us, sweetie?’‘Let’s hang her from the branches by those stupid pigtails!’‘Yeah! And then we’ll-’

All of a sudden, something sleek and sharp came whistling through the night air. It popped Pennywise’s balloon, and struck Thanos right between the cheeks of his ample bum.‘Ow!’‘What the…’It was a fine, thin blade, attached to a deep red rose.

The four of us whipped our heads towards the source of the floral projectile. Imagine my total astonishment to perceive, perched upon a high stone wall before the radiant moon, none other than Tuxedo Mask. Gosh, he was splendid, with his billowing black cape and aura of general rakishness.‘How dare you blackguards steal from innocent children and assault these brave soldiers. Sailor Moon, I know you can defeat them.’‘But how, dash it!?’

He tossed me a bright pink plastic object. It took me a moment to discern that it was an external hard drive. It bore a little decal of one of those colourful cartoon pony characters.I looked back at the monsters, to find Pennywise agog.‘Wh… WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?’‘Uhm…’‘Dude… is that what I think it is?’ said Napoleon.‘GIVE IT BACK!’ cried Pennywise.

Tuxedo Mask and I shared a single silent, meaningful glance, and I dropped the thing to the grass, raising my heeled boot above it, primed to smash.‘Well… I might, if you agree to apologise to every last child you terrorised, AND return their sweeties.’‘But we already ate some,’ said Thanos.‘Alright… maybe just give them a few quid, in that case. AND you’ll be cleaning the egg off Mrs Emsworth’s front stoop.’‘Anything, ANYTHING!’ begged Pennywise. ‘Please just give me back my-’‘NIGEL!!!’

A robust, sour-faced Jean Grey was stomping across the grass, her fiery gaze fixed on Pennywise.‘You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!’‘But Mum-’‘I should confiscate your little pony stories this instant!’‘No! Please…’‘Instead, you will do exactly as Sailor Moon says, and apologise to all the people whose Halloween you have ruined! You too, Cyril, Edgar! Don’t think I won’t be telling your mothers what you’ve done!’

The clown was dragged off by his ear to begin his penance, but not before he could snatch up his pink hard drive. Now that the leader had fallen, his two henchmen slunk along in his wake.

The Sailor Senshi had regrouped, and Angela, Thos, and Edwin (sorry, Amethyst, Captain America, and Bucky) had also dashed up to join us.‘You know who that was?’ said Angela, ‘Little Nigel Belfry. I went to St George’s with his big sister Diedre. Rotten little punk. One of the worst trolls in the online “My Little Pony” fandom too.’‘He bullies us all the time,’ said Thos.‘Well, dangle the name “Eulalie” in front of him. That’s his username on all the major MLP forums. Not sure he’d like that info getting out at Eton.’ Here she thumped me on the back. ‘Well done, Sailor Moon, you gave him the punishment that he sorely needed.’‘Oh, but I couldn’t have done it without…’I turned towards the stone wall. Of course, Tuxedo Mask had already biffed off. Probably to go hunt down the Silver Imperium Crystal or something.

***

Now that the drama had wound down, we finally had a chance to mingle. I got to take in the costumes of Angela’s group: Honoria was some sort of giant magenta woman with sunglasses and boxing gloves; Florence looked lovely and delicate in a gossamer tutu, and gleefully swung about a rather frightening spear; while Madeline was surprisingly dressed in drag - some charming little chap by the name of Steven, I think. The craftwork of their outfits was simply matchless, and they were clearly the ones to beat for the contest.

After Time-Warping and Thriller-ing and Caramelldansen-ing the night away, as well as quaffing some questionable looking cocktails with names like Chemical X and Radioactive Sludge, it was time to announce the winners of the costume competition.Uncle Tom (sorry, the 4th Doctor) killed the music, and tapped a fork against his glass of Chemical X to call for silence.Dahlia-or-Catwoman hopped up on the coffee table, to better survey the throng. ‘The door prize goes to Winnie the Pooh, who clearly misunderstood the assignment.’Spode-the-Pooh shuffled up to grab his bag of humbugs, and Madeline-or-Steven applauded wildly.

‘The runners-up are Wario and Waluigi, who regrettably stayed true to their despicable characters all evening!’Claude and Eustace collected their swag of Quality Street and Jack Daniels, fighting over who would get to carry them.

Angela and I exchanged a tense side eye. Could one of us really have been left out?

‘And the first prize… is a joint win, between the Crystal Gems and the Sailor Senshi! Come on down, ladies!’Well, everyone pooh-poohs nepotism until they benefit from it. Angela and I joined hands, and led our respective groups to their shared moment of glory. (And after a little bartering, we agreed to let the girls take the cooking lesson, while we scored the Gamecube. I know that Angela has long been an avid fan of Anatole’s show ‘Cuisine Inferno’.)

***

After a little more merrymaking, the music changed from novelty festive monster songs to the cheesy fodder of slow dancing. As couples began to pair off and pitch woo, a thought occurred to me: where the devil had Tuxedo Mask gone?

At the very least, I wished to thank the fellow. It was anyone’s guess as to how he had picked up on Nigel-or-Pennywise’s little secret, but he had truly been my saviour.

I squeezed through the waves of slow dancers, trying to keep my eyes peeled for a top hat or a black cape. Alas, the only capes I could spy were of bright and garish hues.

I escaped to the quiet of Brinkley’s large, rambling back yard, in the hopes of getting a little air. As I ankled along the gravelled drive in my heeled boots, I couldn’t help but let a little melancholy sink in. Despite my search for Tuxedo Mask, I well knew who I really wanted to spend this night with.I reached the fountain, ornamented by Aunt Dahlia’s favoured statue of Artemis, and plonked my sorry self down upon its edge.‘Sailor Moon… we meet again.’

He emerged from behind the shadow of the trees, and I leapt right up.‘Tuxedo Mask! Ah… I really did want to thank you for your help back there. Awful solid of you, old chap.’

He did not come closer. ‘You are most welcome. I had been charged with organising the family affairs of the Earl of Rowcester. I encountered his youngest son, who proved to possess a most malicious and scheming temperament. I felt the temporary acquisition of the lad’s most prized digital information would prove a useful bargaining chip at some juncture.’‘And right you were, Tuxedo Mask! What a bally stroke of genius you…’

He stepped forward, and removed his eyemask.

‘Bertram, I am sorry that I was so intractable about tonight.’‘Oh… Good Lord… Reg, I hoped so dearly that it was you!’

I flew to his arms. And Angela, the sneaky brat, managed to get a good number of happy snaps of Sailor Bertie and Tuxedo Reg locked in a passionate embrace.

‘Reg?’‘Yes, my moonbeam?’‘Keep the cape.’

#jeeves and wooster #bertie's blog #fanfic prompts #seriously tho this is total crack

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itslaeshorseeh · 5 years

Text

To Condorcet

They were all turning left, the cars oncoming While they in seats were listening to their tunes. The engine sound, amongst the turtles, humming, Was loudly in their ears, this day of June’s, Which all combined, were coming down to summing Up for a good one for the gnomic Runes, Which mark their hearts and mind with calendars, Of best and better of those gallant hours. Where the Columbian River flows and cuts, Gem Of the Mountains, Idaho’s Basalt Formations, their ambitious earth abuts; The light that had been strongly cast, a fault Would find for one thin ray, and then it puts Itself out; day’s revolving, too, must halt. Well-wearied travelers their speed did check, As might befit in darkest hours, one’s neck. Of all the things that haunt men with a passion, The blind discovery like of what was gemmed, Compares with that which later keeps its fashion— They sensed, that out of vastness, from there stemmed, The answer self-sufficient laying at Ashton For which they long, and flee from what condemned. They sought out sights and towns that they found rustic, On roadways leading to the russet dust, slick.

For now the cars could be seen in three miles In each direction, when their eyes were dry From lack of sleep where roads to one point files; And straight away the thoroughfare did ply One to reach the end; Auriga’s light brought smiles, Being behind, the light still did not die, But like they bore celestial wings, gave wind, So they could reach Snake River Plain, their Ind. With all these Rocky and Cascade Range Mountains, The din of suburb or the city stifles; What one could call a rat-race is all’s fountains, Give or take, gardens ripe with green and trifles; There is so much that paying eyes’ account wins, Especially what one sees changing by the eyefuls-- The patches grown, and the games over, women Who their expenses gained had as glum win.

They pared their hours with solid witticisms, Such as, that without water, by it new ones, In the form of shadows, water pipes find schisms And of the name take on just pipes; that show runs Not being trapped, to source the water’s prisms, And being caught, would percolate for due fun’s. To bathrooms, would these runs belong; digestion Is how it should end, any solid question.

But those who have the props fill up and clean, And ‘mong the qualities of bare things, it takes on A clean look when a thing of craft would lean, And glide there on as crafts on seas wake ‘pon, To show of Memory that they are Dean. Until the moment when rents come, the air makes gone A rosy hue, which all life girds, from sky To sea, and turmoil round with peace both dye. But beauty being one, a serum’s fast: Their food they found like Cream of Mushroom: Campbell’s; And flattened what had contents made to last. They found the curiosity that ambles, Which they saw as the countryside’s late past, And hoped the stray spark would not light up brambles, When off their touchstone they then ventured answer, That magic made Astolfo a good lancer. Beside the road they could imagine spears: Since strength was much in favor in a saddle Which gave a view and a good segue steers. Besides that was the rune’s puissance in battle, Which made with it, endured itself thro’ fears. These weapons thus inspire Perfection’s prattle, For which gleamed bronze-age gold, and now some truth: From Polydorus to Astolfo, myrtle’s ruth. Friendships that secret counsels lack are like, One’s instant bowl of noodles without heat, Or, chains that fall again off of one’s bike, Or, oranges that are not a seedless treat, Or, even worse, a starry student’s spike Who does not have the chops to be elite: The friends who keep each other at their word, Are like two wings of an ideal bird. At Vantage on, they talked of old loves, still hurt. They mentioned names that their hard memories tumbled, Such as Charissa who they knew a chill flirt, For whom the boys like bumble bees oft stumbled. This peaked when young, like time made Curtis Gilbert, Until suburban Exodus all humbled; Which they attempted now as in a race, To take the Void on as it took plan’s place. It happened when one least expected to, Which was the facet skies cut out for those, Large clearings that had lake reflections blue, And if one e’er came back the status quo’s, To Cherry Trees that gave Quad sections hue, The quad profuse with cherry blossom shows, If not these, then, a call for a visitor For leaving out the Grand Inquisitor.

Tsunamis pummeled Hamadōri’s Sendai When the Okhotsk plate slipped, in Fukushima— It was a cup of coffee grounds to blend dry. Pacific plates went under Iwo Jima— They went around what was the river bend high— And under the Vaughn Hubbard Bridge there gleamed a Nice spot where stopped Snake River’s affluent; Then, gone went particles with sediment. If wandering, one just needs to search life back, The point? Not the Republic, Plato’s love, I’ll save myself more wondering by a knack, It may have been the bee’s be-morse, where of The little dots they find their language’s track— Fourteen, for me has always been the grove Plus Ultra: things that God once put by stream All healed together, Raphael would dream.

What stopped our predecessors from their ruling, Must have been lack of speaking back to meter, I called upon the Fates, no-one am fooling, As from a mold, the die cast as repeater, Then always blessed by seven! ‘Tis a cruel thing, Thirteenth twin legions' lions! But O! how sweeter, ‘Tis that step over stream, that’s ne'er as neat, The Rubicon I crossed, with oaths to meet.

One stream doth separate the perfect, dusting Eternal gold, that sacred second seven! A chasm I would venture where it must sing, Aeolian harps that play, are here in heaven, How long will play our visions we are trusting? The scroll lights up and some power transferred—leaven, Since what makes these events occur is fourteen, Like Juno’s nurses, hiding what have more seen—

The thing most often missing in equation, May be the units, fourteen passed three-fifths, That's one percent of one percent's, but weighs in: Thirty-nine fiftieths by thousandths: myths That greenwood was, the coals to feet a basin. A hero sees the world by breadths and widths. Imagine, what we leave to actuaries, Being caught in their likelihoods, like faeries. Like those who heard foretold, the thirty sucklings, By backwards alpha and omega dubbed; As Saturn men gave sickles, and showed time luck brings, This New Age would have perfect crossbows flubbed, And all have wandered in the sea like ducklings, If not I with black bile spelled in, or rubbed— My luck began the same way it had ended, With just a spin-the-wheel, which just my friend did.

If Time was given Saturn’s name, and Light Named Janus, weep the Reaper, Flee the Source! More often not, Perfection will not fight With half as much this truth as its resource; But as Decay of the Omega’s quite A problem when, it seems the fire grows hoarse, More increase I am obligated muse, I’ll pay back Death two silver, Time its news. The Rower might as well be down the Charles’, At least from River Side, since that is far Away closed-off, a well that truth lets borrow this; The Rower’s coxswain is a self-same star, As all the seven; England lends to war, earls, ‘tis These apothegms like those not found to jar. The Rower a good coxswain was, for led It then the self-same spirit paths to tread. This Two-faced Janus served their Dionysus. They paths had crossed beneath the starry Cetus, By Touchet on the road, then Lowden’s crisis, Namely, the savages the French made weet fuss, A slaughterhouse, amid their guns’ devices; T’ was four days fighting, signed a treaty sheet was; These plains’ hills roll, pass by around French Corner, Grande Ronde had formed Blue Mountains which adorn her.

From the Snake River flowed Grande Ronde, to there, Where Mill Creek from the Willow Creek with Shaw creek, Formed many others, Summerville to share, And from these, Hacker Creek with Coon Creek, all meek In various forms: My Muse departs from air, And seems to use a logic that I seek; Frenchmen’s Springs Member flowed from Pendleton, And retched from earth, once ruined gentle din.

La Grande they passed, named by a Settler's mind, His name was Charles Dause; Like him, Payette, Fur-trappers were, and make towns sound refined, The front and end of their day's trail may fit, Around the tale of Baker City's find, The senator that found the mess, they hit. The boats were not enough to cross Potomac; He gave his life, for which the town's a throwback. They passed the ghost-town which had tuff from flows, The open spaces being found past hills, They went where tuff-stone quarries long repose. Volcanic rock which porous in Italian bills As tufo, which consolidated, froze, Its fineness prized, was reached by use of drills. At Weatherby, Express Ranch, between Lakes Paddock north, Lowell lower, housed some drakes. And here I take the course, themes to attend,— If stars hold what we call the storied fates, Then O’! My Muse her song her voice will bend, A lyric song that all depreciates, And still lives on, a token worn on end. To prove a point, I ‘liven rabbles’ prates; This next one they will say is a heart-breaker, The left hand Zeus holds thunder, the earth-quaker. If systems hold the processes for casts, The moral is not difficult to catch; Since fixtures in the skies eke out repasts, Still, man has in this age, no plan to hatch, But thinking opportunity still lasts For his best goals, and growing a new patch. I may say more and spin clichés retold, Where boldly gained are fortunes, hopes enfold. An octopus was secret nightmare, sealed— Sir Marinell had Ocean rear up gold, Whom shores of Cyclades had dropped a shield, Like Jove his dimmed escutcheon extolled, And by the prophecy no woman’s field Is, I was given it by all, and I foretold— There I had seen, in seven of their mix, One thing I called six hundred-sixty-six.

The rat-race and its fountains these were not; The valley pass beneath the town of Lost Blue Bucket held the tale of gold not sought, Then, Malheur from across He-Devil tossed. The hills as big as canyons here have got, Changed colors with the season, as with frost. The one regret some have when they are twenty, They finished college--Caldwell had their plenty. The foothills green, were dotted, Basin Big Sagebrush and Curleaf Mountain Mahogany, The foothills north of Boise, lit a sprig, Which they saw in the Sagebrush-covered lea. They raced their way through like the Topgear Stig, Inside their shared Landrover, had to be By Mountain Home when Rocky Bar was haunted, Then passing Cleft, the country curved as wanted.

The mountains being footing for a Hermes, Had snow untouched that nothing would remove, Until they showed his passing on their firm freeze, When snow-caps, bent, contained a watery groove. The foothills having snowmelt were one term, keys, And locked until the spring, which it made move. Once past a field of wheat, the path had taken Scene-hunting to where inclines needed break-in. The road’s Chalk Cut, they ham went through what’s Hammett, Glen’s Faery King Hight Hill-Bliss said, “Tuttle! A boon abounds abroad, big is its gamut. Reach for the Craters of the Moon by shuttle, Where there are dreams deferred there where they cram, bit By bit, the landscape with their dart-ends’ cuttle. The two accepted, filed ‘ere bad behavior, And Hagerman and Buhl passed by, depths wavier.

King Hill-Bliss’ remark they saw as artful: Since faeries feast on fresh-squeezed honey, famine Was felt by tiny peoples what by part, full Ravages so that they have less to cram in, Less honey milk on honey cakes’ dessert bowl, Which for a boon, these heroes sought the shaman, A shady friend who in his hut was suited Beyond Shoshone Falls, and not secluded. The Shaman lived in Murlaugh, on a strand. From Tuttle did the two then go to parley, The two had plans involving talks that spanned A windy plain of wild growth: groats from barley Owned by King Hill-Bliss, left by sprites of sand From Morpheus, were made to rot and gnarly. To fend off ergot, they learned fungicides Were not the answer, but to find fey guides. Scale insects they collected for their Faerie’s mana, Their sweet saps in glass jars secured, was filled, Once hands that grasped like hands to strip some fauna, Of course, a looser grip would bugs make chilled. Accretionary shapes smelled like banana, Plus like a mashed-up serving of it milled, When on the circular rim, sap fell clumped, All thanks to Sage advice, built up what’s dumped.

The honeydew filled up, like cotton white, And the scale insects seemed disturbed, and shaken; It may have been the sunlight’s cause, the light In ultraviolet spectrums that they bake-in, But Western Pines have shade, which anchored tight. From Tuttle then to Burley, pains to slaken, Just as the Murlaugh Seer said, wild food Was gathered off of trees where bugs had poo’d. The honeydew was to their tastes, a sweet. The faeries there restored what was of blight That made the rye fields like-smells secrete To cleanliness from honeydew-fed might, And, then, the sickly parts cast off the wheat Made fungi lesser seen, though once spread quite. Though question one might how the faeries, fed, Had this new problem from a source that spread? The fight had always raged, beneath our noses, When bees went home and hives retched up and built, ‘Twas with the stolen honey that one goes less For when the arbors closed their lives, ungilt. They had much better food, from nuts than roses, And being taught in magic, made pans tilt, Without them having ever left their verdure; But they were summoned by the sound of merger. The mason stamp was honey-bear-like contoured, And with a customary twist, and toss, Of which friends heard a clatter, it then sauntered Before it came down after rolling moss. So leaving food, they made like Limbert onward; It was enough, because as gloss, the sauce, To faeries seemed like stacks, and tribes as tall, And Burley was thus saved, and plumped were all. Cotterel was seen passed in distance: older And held up kettles, while Acequia held, Its tributaries, and with tears to shoulder Stood Minidoka, where its fountains swelled. Raft River taken, showed Snake River’s holder: American Falls Neeley guarded, belled By nearby Bannock ‘round the corner, bubbling Across of highway eighty six, guts doubling. A ship could have a crew with names the likes Of which the towns had: Chubbuck, Gibson, Blackfoot, And just because the way they saw it strikes Truer this way, the Indians in tracksuit, Wapello even here, past Gibson hikes Up to the shore of Firth, by Shelley’s jackboot. From Pocatello anabasis stretched, North, where in Ammon they passed plains far-fetched.

Aquila shines the Altair: Idaho Falls was where carriers shined like boyhood that Laomedeians raised to fame, did. Though Hebe was soon replaced, whose pants went splat, The Trojan Prince would goblets tend, that glow. The Mount Olympus destination that The golden eagle carried him to, twin- Peaked, seconds better, not like “lettuce-win”.

Now finally they came and found potatoes: In silos they like kernels reached the tops, And filled with earthy bodies at the Date’s close, Where they would be shipped off to all these stops, From Rexburg which a Morman’s name its fate owes. Fall River split off Henry's Fork, and drops At Ashton; land like Atargatis eastern. The two Three Tetons gave names which the beasts earn.

Three mountains, they were Ashur, Cadwalladr, And Maruduk, the Grand, South, and the Middle Tetons. The winged sun, battle leader sure, And Bull Calf. Instrumental to acquittal, The weapon Maruduk used in the war, Imhullu countered Tiamat’s sprayed spittle By wind of four, so arrows wind of seven Had decompressed, then Kingu caused skulls riven. Like Cetus are most sea-beasts. Take Poseidon, Who sent for sacrifice, Troyano’s fairest. Then Laomedon, Cetus quelling, tied on The cliff his daughter Hesion, when he darest, And kept his horses, not his word, when fight gone. For his last scion, Priam’s goods were rarest, Kept close in Polydorus’ hands thrusted, Until the greedy Thracians proved mistrusted. The Cliffs at Henry’s Lake not far from Ashton, Had springs by Naiads blessed, and trumpeter Swans there inhabited, the avian lashed in The arms of Leda, Queen of Sparta, her, For Zeus unlike Semele who he mashed-thin, Swan Valley tucked like Crete, a swan’s form pure, That not unlike Pleiades guided feeding, And so was Helen got by unplanned breeding. The rainbow trout caught there at mountain footsteps, Were pass-times even when the Milky Way Displayed its naval in the autumn, loot depths That only twenty feet hid by the bay, Which the Black Mountains showed in strokes by mute reps Of ripples at the borders’ interplay. The nation here went where, as if Great Plains Were like the edges of a world space drains. At Old Ranch Steakhouse were the patrons, Melson, Who was just shy of twenty, and his sage Father who was at graduation, belts in A suit and tie, asking why a steak would gauge Better cooked well-done, to the taste buds—melts in The mouth less if it is not kept off fire’s rage; The cooking not as important in the steak’s life, As blood and sauce that gleam around their lake’s knife. The diner’s wooden handrail mostly gleaming, Drew on new patrons under lanterns minds had, The waiters basked in screens, and kitchens steaming, The décor featured pioneers of kinds bad, The clattering in the kitchen that made more absent seeming, The hanging LED screens that new finds had, Of advertisements, opportunities, In flux, of mattress sales, or Moon trip’s fees. The polos on the waiters had full contrast: The intermittent light between shrubs, The age displayed, one a dimension fast, Where vehicles could make tremendous subs, Artificial intelligence unclassed. The question why we live, to have like Tubbs, The sight was clear, though far away, and hilly, And there were sales to make, by land made still free. For Papa had for just the traveler Three years before, bought him an old manual land Automobile, that from the grounds made gravel stir, With foot-wide tyres. With it had Melson planned For every place to host artistic blur, This owing to time which passes quickly, grand, As well as to traditional senses found, In taking stock poetically of ground. They paid the waiter, passed beneath the corn sheaves, Which covered door jambs, before they departed, From one another, so this had left the torn sleeves Of Modern Liberty of limbs full-hearted, The light it bore which being smoothly as morn leaves, Which made the niche bear out perfection charted; For youth was wasted if you never grew up, And Melson thought he must, for plans he drew up.

The Heritage High roof, a spacious car, Reliable though at the cost ‘tis said, That owners of this car date less by far; Was for cross-country travel, which time bred Exclusively for trips shown popular By travel agents that hid in the head, Of artists and survivalists, as one, Must suffer for their art: times pleasure shun. Art was a job collectivizing surveys, And like the minnow on a crocodile Had made the task of cleaning points, but verve pays To the fresh-forming bubble: where folks stayed a while, Not for too long, since the attractions serve days, Their share of their due fun, paid back each mile That had required their time, first sights ignored: Like when bald eagles knew from eyes that soared.

So Nature needs a spirit to take Notice. If things are seen apart, they take disguises, So are like newer revelation made to focus, So are the sites attracting crowds whose sizes, Are thinner like Odysseus’ fed Lotus- Who back home sent were, but new Trojan prizes, Were left a means of a recovery Pushed for when Melson sought discovery.

Since art is like an inspiration solid, Not being abstract, it refit its owner, Though more than complimentary, all Id, Especially these days the algorithms’ tones, sure, Make simple pages less like where a shawl slid, Less like where sunlight on floors were plants’ honer, Than an artistic muse, like landscape blogging Which was, in general, the calling for his hogging.

#pacific northwest #short poem #poems on tumblr #ottava rima #contemporarypoetrytradition

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flatstarcarcosa · 5 years

Text

extremely detailed character meme (Van, ships: right on target and far from any road)

found this on my dash and i thought i’d fill it in! under a cut b/c it is REALLY detailed! some of the questions don’t apply for me, and i tried to make it easy to tell which ship i’m referring too b/c some things are different here and there

Character Chart Character’s full name: Van (pronounced vaughn, rhymes with fawn) Miller Reason or meaning of name: None Character’s nickname: None, aside from petnames Reason for nickname: None Birth date: for ship: right on target: 10/03/1990 for ship: far from any road: 10/03/1970 Physical appearance Age: ship: right on target: 29\ ship: far from any road: 24 in 95, 30 in 02, 40 in 2012 How old do they appear: Perpetually babyfaced. So about 15 or so until they hit their mid 30′s Weight: honestly i don’t know Height: 5′2 (look what’s the point of a self insert if i can’t achieve my dream of being at least five foot tall all right) Body build: stronk. Shape of face: square ish? Eye color: grey Glasses or contacts: glasses, doesn’t like them unless they’re sunglasses though, prefers to squint and look like a hamster Skin tone: pale/sickly at times, tan if they’ve been in the sun, but still very white Distinguishing marks: pointy canines Predominant features: nothing really sticks out, van’s physical features are pretty normal Hair color: naturally a muted blonde. prone to dying it a bright yellow in 95 and 02 for ship: far from any road. dyed black for ship: right on target Type of hair: straight Hairstyle: fluffy, over hair sprayed mullet ponytail thing for ‘95, ‘02 has a less hair band style looking thing but still pretty punky, ‘12 Van has what i call the ‘business undercut’ (far from any road). also just a normal, kind of spiky undercut for (right on target) Voice: i dont know how to answer this? Overall attractiveness: this is just a bad question Physical disabilities: I’m gonna break this one down because one thing i love about my self inserts is modifying my own, actual disabilities a bit so: far from any road: van has kidney and bladder problems that get progressively worse as time goes on, and undiagnosed celiac disease. because of a severe motorcycle accident in ‘89 they also have a weak/bum leg that is prone at times to flaring up with pain and instability with no warning. after a second motorcycle accident in ‘95, these things get a lot worse. by the time ‘12 rolls around van resigns themself to having traded in their bike years earlier for an actual car and using a cane. they’re not happy about it. right on target: same kidney/bladder/digestive issues. bum leg is a side effect of general chronic pain caused by it. their leg has a habit of still going out at random, and despite needing a cane sometimes they refuse to use it. lester always keep an eye out in case their leg is about to collapse under them. he’s grabbed them many times to keep them from hitting the ground. Usual fashion of dress: dark, leather, jeans, punky looking things. Favorite outfit: leather jacket, motorcycle boots even if they’re not riding, jeans. Jewelry or accessories: big clunky silver rings. right on target!van has a solid black metal band on their left thumb that matches one lester has.

Personality Good personality traits: tries to be kind, tries to make things better for others at the expense of themself, funny, loves animals, Bad personality traits: addiction problems, quick temper, far from any road!van likes to hustle people at bars and get into bar fights but usually only if they’ve been provoked Mood character is most often in: it cycles a lot, so Sense of humor: good? this is a vague question Character’s greatest joy in life: photography, making people laugh, alone time Character’s greatest fear: death, being in poverty again/being stuck in poverty, Why? being poor is Not Fun What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? far from any road: something happening to rust. they don’t realize at it first but he’s become their grounding agent, and without him there to balance them out they would not fare well. right on target: lester’s brief stint of being fucking dead and murdered on TV wasn’t a good time. Character is most at ease when: it’s cold and rainy out and they have an excuse to stay in bed and snooze. Most ill at ease when: surrounded by too many people and too many noises. Enraged when: hhhhhhhhhhhhh often? the worst they get is in ‘95 when marty makes a few jabs at their trauma and they beat him bloody before rust pulls them off him. Depressed or sad when: also often, sometimes for no reason. thats kind of what clinical depression is. Priorities: money. taking care of themself with it in order to be able to help others. Life philosophy: sometimes you don’t have to be great, you can just be okay. If granted one wish, it would be: ability to change gender/sex characteristics at will. Why? it’s the transgenderism (i use that word satirically and as a joke, for those that don’t know that’s a te]]]rf dogwhistle in other situations, a lot of trans people have taken it back) Character’s soft spot: their pets and the fact that being a raging asshole is a front they have to actively work at. Is this soft spot obvious to others? depends on the person. to rust? yes. to lester? not as much. Greatest strength: refusal to give up. Greatest vulnerability or weakness: raging asshole disease and the addiction issues. Biggest regret: developing addiction issues. Minor regret: it also cycles like their moods. Biggest accomplishment: far from any road: got a bachelor’s degree in sociology before deciding to get into journalism. right on target: ??? van doesn’t feel accomplished. lester is trying to encourage them at going to college but he’s not very good at it. Minor accomplishment: “not fucking dead yet, assholes” Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: far from any road: van was never able to find out who it was in the south texas area that was targeting members of the LGBT community, that’s the whole reason they ended up with the crusaders and met rust, they had reason to believe it was someone connected to the gang. despite help from rust, the investigation went nowhere and all they have is a half finished expose. right on target: they didn’t try to leave an abusive situation sooner. Why? see above Character’s darkest secret: i? don’t know?? Does anyone else know? N/A Goals Drives and motivations: just live the best they can Immediate goals: not die Long term goals: not die, perhaps be less of an alcoholic How the character plans to accomplish these goals: slowly? How other characters will be affected: they help. Past Hometown: --- Type of childhood: traumatic Pets: dogs, frogs, turtles, hamsters First memory: ---- Most important childhood memory: ---- Why: ------ Childhood hero:------ Dream job: ------ Education: bachelor’s degree for far from any road, GED for right on target Religion: atheistic but understanding and accepting of others Finances: far from any road: not fucking superb, hence the side hustles. right on target: poor Present Current location: far from any road: Louisiana, i don’t remember TD ever stating where at aside from in the sticks right on target: NYC Currently living with: rust or lester Pets: far from any road is various pets at various times, right on target is initially just the doggo. Religion: still the same Occupation: hustler slash freelance journalist for far from any road, unemployed for right on target Finances: better by 2012 (far from any road) thanks to a boring but stable office job, and for right on target they have lester’s money now and even lester doesn’t know how much he has aside from “a lot”. Family Mother: ------- Relationship with her: nonexistent Father: Bastard Sr. Relationship with him: nonexistent. Siblings: sister, older Relationship with them: non existent Spouse: rust/lester Relationship with him/her: i mean in both settings it’s a long term (rust right at around 20 years if you count their time in the crusaders initially, lester about 7 years) so, good if complicated at times Children: no Relationship with them: none Other important family members: none Favorites Color: purple, green, black Least favorite color: red Music: prog rock Food: pizza, waffles, hash browns, cereal Literature: lots! really, its across all genres Form of entertainment: viddy gaems Expressions: what? Mode of transportation: motorcycle or car Most prized possession: also motorcycle or car Habits Hobbies: viddy gaemz, photography, sketch comedy Plays a musical instrument? nah Plays a sport? is pool a sport? How he/she would spend a rainy day: cozy in bed, s***ing some d*** Spending habits: they are fucking cheap as fuck whether they have money or not Smokes: yes, they say they’re planning to quit but [thor voice] is he though Drinks: yes, it’s the alcoholism Other drugs: pills mostly. to be fair they do HAVE to have a lot of meds because of chronic illness but they do love them some benzos What does he/she do too much of? drinks, sleeps, smokes What does he/she do too little of? healthy food, exercise Extremely skilled at: hustling. that works in both setting because with rust they learned it themself, with lester he taught them. also, writing. Extremely unskilled at: art, socialising with people Nervous tics: knuckle cracking, Usual body posture: crosses arms a lot Mannerisms: ???? Peculiarities: ????? Traits Optimist or pessimist? pessimist Introvert or extrovert? introvert Daredevil or cautious? cautious Logical or emotional? both actually, it’s not fun Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? disorderly and messy, clashes with rust’s methodical and neat Prefers working or relaxing? relaxing Confident or unsure of himself/herself? switches rapidly between both Animal lover? yes Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: bad. One word the character would use to describe self: asshole One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: no good alcoholic junkie with a shitty temper, a shittier outlook and few skills or worth to bring to the table except a raging selfish streak What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? sense of humor What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? temper What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? thicc What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? crippled How does the character think others perceive him/her: badly, What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: alcoholism Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: they try to be cordial, unless they’re in traffic, in which case it’s fuck you and your fucking mother you stupid fucking motherfucker Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? yes Person character most hates: [redacted] Best friend(s): @dadbodsandbots is p much hanging out somewhere in every setting Love interest(s): rust and lester Person character goes to for advice: they don’t, that requires enough vulnerability to admit there’s a problem Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: also rust and lester Person character feels shy or awkward around: van is very uncomfortable around marty most of the time, he reminds them of their father. it smooths out as time goes on, but still. also when lester was stuck with the DA, they didn’t like daken at first Person character openly admires: ehh? Person character secretly admires: ehh? Most important person in character’s life before story starts: ehh? After story starts: ehh?

found here

#van.me #ship: far from any road #ship: right on target #lms if read?????

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livingcorner · 3 years

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Slugs and Snails@|how to kill slugs in garden@|https://ift.tt/3tjsp7q

How to Get Rid of Slugs and Snails in the Garden

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Seeing slug and snail damage in your garden? Here are tips on how to identify, control, and get rid of slugs and snails in the garden.

What Are Slugs and Snails?

Slugs and snails are very damaging garden pests that can be found throughout most of the world, most often in temperate, humid climates. Your garden is likely to have more slugs during a particularly rainy season.

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Slugs and snails are not insects; they are soft-bodied mollusks. Slugs and snails are members of the phylum Mollusca, along with the giant squid, the periwinkle, and the steamer clam. Unlike seagoing mollusks, these landlubbers are equipped with a single lung. The main difference between slugs and snails is that the latter have an obvious shell, which is primarily made up of calcium carbonate.

Slugs and snails are hermaphroditic, with each individual having both male and female reproductive organs. As you would expect, their love life is complex. The common gray garden slug dances an elaborate, hour-long nuptial waltz before mating, while other species perform acrobatic movements while hanging suspended from threads of slime.

Identification

Identifying Slugs and Snails

Most garden slugs and snails are gray, dull-orange, or dark brown and 1 to 3 inches long. They will hide in dark, damp places during the day.

Many people are prompted to ask, “Where do slugs come from?” This is because they are hard to spot in the soil due to their dark color, but also because they only feed at night and hide throughout the day. If you realize you have slug and snail damage but can’t find the culprits, you’re not alone.

Slugs and snails will leave a slimy secretion where they have been, so even if you can’t spot them, you’ll know they are there. Look for slime both on plants and surrounding soil. It is easiest to see the trails of slime first thing in the morning.

You can monitor slug and snail activity in your garden by digging holes that are four inches wide and six inches deep. Cover these holes with a board, and then check for slugs after three days. If you see many of them, these might be the sneaky pests that are eating your plants!

Slugs and snails lay their eggs in moist soil or compost. Their populations can grow rapidly in cool and moist conditions.

Slugs lay their small white eggs in damp soil. Photo Credit: GrowVeg.com.

Slug Damage

What do slugs eat? They will feed on almost anything in the garden—look for holes and ragged edges on leaves and stems. The holes should have irregular shapes due to their file-like mouthparts. Small seedlings can be consumed entirely.

Slugs can digest tissues from most plants, but you might find them especially liking your beans, lettuce, cabbage, and tomatoes.

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The slug damage on this pak choi plant is evidenced by its holes and ragged edges. Photo Credit: GrowVeg.com.

Control and Prevention

How to Get Rid of Slugs and Snails

You can create the perfect slug and snail trap by laying boards or pieces of cardboard on the bare soil around your plantings. Each morning, turn the boards over and scrape the hiding pests into large plastic containers. Cover and place in freezer for three hours. When frozen stiff, dump them on your compost pile.

Place shallow dishes of beer around the garden to lure the slugs or snails to a drunken death. Or mix water with molasses, cornmeal, flour, and baking yeast to replace the beer. These are both great baits that can help control your garden slug and snail population.

Some slugs and snails are a bit beer-resistant and might crawl out of the dish. If you find this happening, try creating a beer trap that they can’t escape from: Cut the spout end off a plastic beverage bottle just where it reaches the fattest diameter. Now, turn the pour-spout around so that it’s pointing inside the bottle and fasten it with staples or duct tape. Pour a little beer into the bottle (add extra yeast, if desired) and lay it on its side in the garden.

If necessary, get out and handpick the little rascals—a task best undertaken in the evening twilight or in the early light of dawn, before they have sought shelter from the heat of the day.

Some gardeners claim that circling plants with powdered materials such as wood ash (which is also a good source of potassium for your plants), diatomaceous earth, coffee grounds, pine needles, coarse sand, or crushed eggshells can prevent slugs and snails. Unforunately, these common household tricks are not proven to be effective.

Photo Credits: GrowVeg.com. Prevent slug damage like this with the above tips for getting rid of slugs.

Alcohol kills these pests by acting as a surfactant, or wetting agent, that can penetrate an insect’s waxy coat of armor and kill on contact with the body. Isopropanol (rubbing alcohol) works fine and is easy to find, but be sure it doesn’t have additives. Ethanol (grain alcohol) seems to work best. Alcohol usually comes in 70 percent strength in stores (or 95 percent strength purchased commercially). To make an insecticidal spray, mix equal parts 70 percent alcohol and water (or, if using 95 percent alcohol, mix 1 part alcohol to 1 ½ parts water).

A spray of cold coffee can control small slugs, but it must completely drench them to be effective.

Some plants have been shown to do well despite being around slugs and snails. If you tend to see these pests and are having trouble getting rid of them, try planting astilbe, phlox, or mint to reduce damage.

Check out this video about controlling slugs and snails in the garden and this blog with more tips on how to naturally get rid of slugs.

Try this old-fashioned advice from The 1963 Old Farmer’s Almanac: A mulch of oak leaves is useful against slugs. To control slugs, our grandparents strewed leaves of lettuce, spinach, cabbage, or slices of raw potato in the garden. The night feeders collected beneath these materials, and the next morning they were gathered and eliminated. Frogs and toads are good consumers of slugs. Old timers, living by their wits, learned to make use of simple materials for insect control. They found that slugs do not like alkaline ground. Slaked lime, wood ashes, slag, sand, and cinders were useful against slugs.

How to Prevent Slugs and Snails

It is helpful to rake your garden in early spring in order to clean up some of the moist debris that slugs and snails love, as well as to rake away any soil-borne eggs. Large wood chips also provide hiding areas for slugs, so try not to use them.

Prevent slugs in your garden by getting rid of slug eggs. Photo Credit: GrowVeg.com.

Only water your garden when necessary so as to minimize the damp places in which slugs and snails congregate.

Slugs and snails have many natural predators. If you have chickens or ducks, they will help by eating these pests and their eggs. Also, be sure to encourage the populations of snakes, turtles, frogs, toads,and ground beetles in your garden. Firefly larvae are also natural predators, so find out how to attract fireflies to your garden. The same goes for songbirds, so check out our tips on creating a bird-friendly habitat.

Slugs and snails experience a small shock when exposed to copper, which will make them turn back. Try making a perimeter around your plants with copper tape.

Companion planting is a great way to prevent pests. In order to keep slugs and snails away from more valuable plants, place plants that they love near your more-valuable plants as a trap, and then destroy the infested plants. Good traps for slugs include chervil, marigold, and thyme.

Check out this video to learn more about how to prevent slugs and snails in your garden.

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