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electricaquarius · 16 days

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For some reason the full version of this fic went walkabout, i have no idea why as I'm certain I posted it. Oh well, here's my self insert Tav doing the Save Vanra quest along with some backstory on her.

'Say what you want, but the Mermaid has always been my haunt.' Joanna pushed open the doors and took a deep breath. Inside had the slightly sour smell of spilt rum and the yeasty odour of beer. Not exactly pleasant, but to her it smelled like home. Astarion wrinkled his nose but said nothing, knowing it was far better to try to blend in when in this kind of environment. She was about to head over to where the barman had given her a nod of greeting when Gale caught her wrist.

'Wait. I know you're happy to be home, but please, for everyone's sake, keep your guard up. We're looking for a hag here, it could be any of these...' His eyes coasted over the clientele and Joanna saw a flicker of distaste in his eyes. '... *fine* people.'

She turned to face him and placed a hand on his cheek. 'I promise, everything will be fine. Sure, the usuals are a rowdy bunch but I don't think anyone's going to be intentionally picking a fight with a giant tiefling that's currently on fire. And if they do, we can handle ourselves.' She turned back to Bosun Gannet and started over, seeing that Karlach had already secured herself a tankard of grog.

'It's not a fight I'm worried about...' Gale muttered darkly but followed her all the same, briefly wondering where Astarion had disappeared to.

'Jof! Been a while since I've seen you in here, the regulars have missed you.' Gannet greeted her, putting down the mug he was cleaning to clap her on the shoulder. 'Who are your new friends, eh? Do I need to inform them of the rules, too?'

'It's nice to see you too, Gannet.' She laughed and took a seat at the bar. 'Let's just say we're on a little adventure together. I don't suppose you remember a woman named Lora, do you? Poor thing's distraught, says she lost her little girl here.'

He tensed at the mention of the name and his speech became a touch more mechanical, as if rehearsed. 'Troublemaker. She's been in here before asking after the little mite but none of us saw hide nor hair of a child with her.' He picked up the mug and began cleaning it again, seeming to relax a little. 'Besides, you think I'd let a sprog in here? I've got my hands full with all the others screaming and pissing, last thing I need is one who can't help it!'

'I thought as much, just being thorough. Do you think we could see the Captain? Been an age since I've last seen her and you know she'll never let me hear the end of it if I didn't come and say hello' Joanna knew she was being fed a line, especially after so many late nights pouring her heart out to Gannet over life's sorrows. It hurt a little, honestly, but there was a strong possibility he was being manipulated, magically or otherwise.

'You know where she'll be, girl. Go up and show your face, I'll keep an eye on your mates while you do.' He nodded to the stairs. It was here Gale found his voice once again.

'I'll be coming with you' He said firmly, placing a hand at Joanna's waist. There was something definitely off here, and he knew a divide and conquer tactic when he saw it. Gannet rolled his eyes and gave a derisive snort.

'Upstairs is for regulars only. Sit down, lover boy, she'll be fine.' He nodded to the empty barstool next to Karlach. 'Besides, someone needs to pay up for the amount the tiefling's knocking back.'

'Eh?' Karlach raised an eyebrow, then realised she was surrounded by multiple empty tankards. It'd been an age since she was last in a pub like this and had gone somewhat into a trance at the prospect of a cool, frosty pint. Luckily her tolerance was through the roof, at most she was slightly merry heading towards pleasantly drunk. 'How much do I owe you?'

Joanna dumped a bag of coins onto the counter and Gannet's eyes widened. 'I'm sure this'll cover it, and besides. Just don't get too drunk, alright gorgeous?' She winked at Karlach. 'I assume there's no further problem? Besides,' She gestured towards Gale, 'This one's a Waterdeep boy. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't introduce him to the Captain?'

Gannet hadn't taken his eyes off of the coin pouch, but snapped to attention at the title of his boss. 'Oh, sure, sure... Gods, my little bookworm really has grown up, hasn't she?' He quickly pocketed about half of the money, putting the rest in the usual petty cash box. He wondered what on earth could’ve happened in the space of a couple of weeks for her to disappear sweet and timid, on the meagre wage of a junior scholar, only to return with some dangerous-looking friends in tow and with money to burn. Still, it was none of his business. Things being the way they were, he stood to make a tidy profit provided the Captain didn’t get involved.

Having peeled themselves away from the bar, Joanna took Gale’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She knew he was uncomfortable in here but put it down to the clientele rather than anything else. In truth, she was the same on her first couple of visits. Still, it was somewhere out of her room where the drinks were cheap and she could read mostly unbothered, at first. It wasn’t long though until she became a regular fixture, poring over maps and riddles, singing sea shanties and having the occasional stolen kiss. Still, it was all in the past now. Joanna still had a fondness for her time at the Mermaid but had no desire to repeat it.

They reached the top of the stairs and Joanna paused. ‘Hm. Astarion isn’t up here either? Concerning…’ She shook her head. ‘Do you think we should try to find him, or talk to the Captain first?’

Gale frowned and folded his arms. ‘I’d think you’d be a better judge of that, my love. I wasn’t aware you were quite so popular here.’ It sounded a little more malicious than he’d intended, but the words were out of his mouth, now. Joanna sighed.

‘That was before we began our little tadpole adventure. Things have changed a lot since then, I know you understand. Besides, we’re trying to save a little girl here. Can we put this behind us, just for now?’ Gale squeezed her hand and studied her face carefully.

‘For now.’ He agreed after a long moment. ‘Anyway, we both know Astarion can handle himself, especially in this kind of environment. If he’s in dire need of help he’ll use the tadpole.’ He tapped his head. ‘And quite honestly I’d like to get out of here as quickly as possible’ He added to himself.

‘The Captain it is, then.’ Joanna nodded, heading over to the side room where Grisly would usually be nursing a hangover this time of the morning. As expected, the woman was sitting with her head on the table in front of her, groaning slightly. Joanna sidled over, sitting down next to her and tapping her on the shoulder. Grisly’s head jerked up and her one eye narrowed, before a beaming smile spread across her face.

‘Joanna! Hey, where’ve you been beautiful?’ The Captain excitedly patted the seat next to her and Joanna settled in. ‘And who’s the bodyguard? You come into some money or something, sweets?’ Her one eye flicked to Gale, still leaning in the doorway.

Joanna stiffened, feeling a vibe of something definitely off coming from Grisly, but nothing that she could identify. She hadn’t used her special nickname but that wasn’t that unusual. Still, best to watch and wait. Joanna could hardly go barrelling into an accusation if she had nothing to accuse her of. ‘I took a little trip outside the city, let’s leave it at that. This one’s a Waterdeep lad I met on my travels.’ She nodded towards Gale. ‘He’s a good boy, I promise he won’t cause any trouble.’ She laughed.

Grisly gestured to another chair, looking at Gale. ‘Come on in then, Waterdeep. I won’t bite.’ Gale bristled at the over-familiarity but would much rather be nearer and ready to act when the time came. He’d already spotted the shimmer of Astarion’s invisibility spell over in the corner of the room and knew that a fight wasn’t far off. A subtle tap-tap on the back of Joanna’s hand clued her in that the rogue was present and snooping around. Time for her to be moving this conversation along, sharpish.

‘Now I must confess I’m not just here for pleasure. I mentioned to Gannet downstairs that there’s apparently a little girl that’s gone missing here. He said he hadn’t seen her but I know his eye, unless someone’s waving around gold he’s got selective blindness. I don’t suppose you remember anything like that?’

Grisly sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘It’s Lora, isn’t it? She’s absolutely loopy, sweets. Hand on the black coal that used to be my heart, there’s been no sprogs in here.’ She theatrically placed her hand over her chest. A rustling sound drew her gaze as Joanna had a paper thrust into her hand. Not Astarion’s finest work, but certainly effective. Not needing it any more, he dropped concentration on the invisibility spell and finally spoke.

‘Good job keeping her occupied for so long, but this is definitely our hag. The note is proof.’ Joanna scanned the note quickly while Grisly sputtered an excuse, quickly losing control of her disguise.

‘Sweets, you can’t believe this, can you?!’ Her accent began to drift, leaves and spores beginning to pop out from her skin. ‘How long have you known me? You’d accuse me of snatching up a child like some kind of fairytale witch?’

Joanna folded the note then stood up and shook her head. ‘You have one chance, Gris. There’s a nickname here everyone knows me by, you made it up one night. Tell me what it is and what it’s short for, and I’ll believe you’re innocent in all this.’

Grisly, now twitching and shuddering attempting to hold on to her human form, stood in silence for a moment. Her face screwed up into a scowl. ‘Bollocks!’ She spat, casting away the last of her disguise. ‘You won’t take the girl away from me this time, sweets. This one’s mine to raise.’ With a puff of smoke she was gone, just as she’d disappeared from her teahouse so long ago.

Joanna sighed and folded her arms. ‘Shit, now we’re going to have to tear the place apart to figure out where she’s hiding.’ She knew a couple of side entrances and where the stockroom was but with a hag’s cunning Ethel truly could be anywhere.

‘No huge loss, I’d wager.’ Astarion sniffed derisively. ‘Now then, before we start turning the place upside down, would you indulge us both as to what this nickname business is?’

Joanna blinked, surprised. ‘It’s nothing exciting, I promise you. You heard Gannet use it as I walked in. I’m not the only regular Joanna here, and my second name is Faith. It got shortened to ‘Jo F.’ to differentiate, and then slurred into Jof after one too many late nights here.’ She shrugged.

‘Faith, hmm?’ Gale rubbed his chin. ‘Suits you, actually. You’ve had nothing but faith in more than one of our shadier companions.’

Astarion rolled his eyes. ‘Forgive me if I’m not in a hurry to use it, it’s hardly dignified. Now then.’ He peeked around the archway leading into the room. ‘There’s about a dozen angry redcaps out there and our darling Karlach is still downstairs. We should probably think about rescuing her, first.’

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #hush duchess

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meg-moira · 3 years

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A short story based on this writing prompt.

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The woman sloshed from the water, waves frothing about her knees as if the cold ocean was straining to keep her. Once on land, her soft toes sunk into wet sand as her legs wobbled with disuse. Lush black hair hung over her shoulders and back in sodden, twisting ringlets, and she crossed her arms against the cold as she stumbled toward a rocky outcropping in the distance. Goosebumps rose along dark skin as her eyes, black as the sea-depths, searched the beach for movement.

Save for the scuttling of a gray crab, all was still.

Naia was the name she had chosen, and when she emerged from the rocks, Naia wore a thick shawl, cotton breeches, and boots which made her toes feel warm but terribly constricted. Standing on the sand, she brushed her fingers along the fabric, hands tracing down the sides of her legs. With an eager, if not somewhat ungainly skip, she set out toward the white bluffs which stretched above the beach - and the red-roofed buildings which piled atop them.

In the city’s streets, Naia was treated to a series of friendly nods. She’d visited the city a handful of times over the past year, and it seemed that at least a few of the residents recognized her. The thought warmed her, and Naia made the rest of the journey to the tea shop with a delighted spring in her admittedly, still wobbly steps.

She was jittery with an energy which was both excited and nervous, for she had made a friend. A human friend. Her friend’s name was Saoirse, and Naia had met her after unknowingly venturing into town on a market day. Saoirse was selling bracelets made of pretty ocean polished stones, and though Naia had no money at the time, she’d stopped to admire the jewelry all the same. Touched by Naia’s admiration of her work, Saoirse slipped a bracelet over Naia’s hand, and the only payment she asked for was to meet for tea a month from that day.

And now, a month later, Naia stood at the tea shop entrance, stone bracelet cool against her wrist.

Saoirse sat at a round wooden table in a tucked-away corner, beneath a window trimmed in emerald curtains. Her pale hands were folded together atop the table, and chestnut brown hair, cropped short, curled about her ears. She had a narrow face, a strong, high bridged nose, and large dark eyes. As soon as Naia stepped into the shop, wooden floorboards creaking beneath her, those large eyes flickered up. Instantly, Saoirse was smiling, the kind which filled her face, dimpling her cheeks.

When Naia sat, it took her a moment to figure out how to fold her legs comfortably between the chair and table. Fortunately, Saoirse seemed not to notice, and when Saoirse reached across the table, squeezing Naia’s hands, Naia squeezed back. She was determined to avoid scaring her new friend away with the truth - that it was a mermaid who’d joined her for tea.

“It’s good to see you, friend,” Saoirse said, smiling brightly.

“And you,” Naia replied.

“I hope you don’t mind - I ordered tea for us both.”

“I don’t mind.”

Saoirse’s smile widened, and up close, Naia noticed that the teeth at the corners of her mouth looked surprisingly sharp. If humans hunted for fish in the sea like merfolk, Saoirse’s sharp teeth would be particularly useful, Naia thought - before forcing it out of her mind. She was meant to be making human conversation, not discussing the best methods for catching fish in one’s mouth.

Naia cleared her throat. She’d practiced this. Granted, the practice had been with a particularly talkative gannet. But practice was still practice, and Naia was determined to make a good, very human, impression.

“So,” Naia said, folding her hands in a mimicry of Saoirse’s posture. “Is selling jewelry your means of collecting coins?”

Saoirse’s chin dipped in a hurried nod. “Oh yes. I collect many beautiful coins from my jewelry sales.”

“Wow,” Naia said, a little breathlessly, as she imagined what it would be like to hold so many pretty, gleaming coins in her hands.

“What of you?” Saoirse asked.

“Oh, I-” Naia stammered. “I - um, find my coins. In the sand.” There really was no way to explain that she collected the stray coins which dropped like fallen stars to the sea floor.

“The sand,” Saoirse breathed, black eyes growing wide. “How marvelous.”

Naia grinned, pleased that her answer had been satisfactory. Breathing easier, she relaxed back into her chair.

A young man delivered their tea. He carried a teapot and two earthen mugs. As he bent over the table, nimble fingers deposited the teapot and then the two mugs before them. He had long black hair that fell over his shoulder in a long braid and eyes as bright as a kelp forest in shallow water. Dipping his head, he said, “Please enjoy,” before hurrying away.

Naia stared for a moment at the pot in silent consideration, and when she looked up, saw Saoirse doing the same. However, when Saoirse saw Naia looking, she straightened up, grabbing for the teapot. Pulling it in front of her, she plucked the lid from the top and peered down at the liquid inside. Her nostrils flared as she eyed it critically.

“Is it...okay?”

Saoirse paused before nodding. “Yes. You’ve got to check beforehand to be sure, though.”

Naia nodded as if this made perfect sense. In truth, she knew little of tea, and had yet to consume any in her visits to land.

Wordlessly, Saoirse plucked a spoon from a tray at the table and set about scooping sodden leaves into each of the mugs. Tilting her head, Naia watched the process, utterly fascinated. She had always assumed tea referred to the liquid - but clearly it was meant to describe these leaves once they were soaked in water.

When Saoirse slid her a mug, Naia grabbed a spoon of her own. Before eating however, Naia paused. She recalled a ritual she’d observed humans practicing at meals. Meeting Saoirse’s eyes, she dipped her head down and said, “I pray to you my thanks for this meal.”

Saoirse blinked, and then she was nodding. Dipping her head, she repeated Naia’s words, “I pray to you my thanks for this meal.”

And then, lifting their spoons, they scooped the wet leaves into their mouths.

The taste was...bitter. But no more bitter than a bite of an urchin not yet matured. Naia turned the leaf over in her mouth before grinding it between her teeth and swallowing.

“A delicacy,” Naia said, licking her lips.

“Yes,” Saoirse replied, poking at the other leaves in her cup.

Naia watched as she spooned another glob of leaves into her mouth. As she leaned forward over the cup, Naia noticed, for the first time, the thick pelt that wrapped around her shoulders. It was odd. The pelt was dark - almost oily in appearance, and it certainly should have been one of the first things she noticed - but until now, Naia’s eyes had slid right over it. It was pretty, she reflected, admiring the sheen.

“I like your shawl.”

When Saoirse stiffened, Naia froze, wracking her brain to determine the human social norm she had violated. Perhaps Saoirse thought she wanted it? Because that was what had happened with the bracelet, wasn’t it? But it was one thing to give away a trinket and quite another to give away the pelt which kept you warm.

“I do not want it,” Naia hurried to explain. “Your bracelet was gift enough for me.”

Saoirse’s tight expression relaxed, and she lifted a hand, running her fingers along the pelt. “It is special to me.”

“It is lovely.”

“Thank you,” the corners of Saoirse’s eyes crinkled with her smile.

When the waiter returned, he glanced a little oddly at the teapot and mugs. When he asked them if the tea was satisfactory, both women assured him it was. Before returning to the back, he turned a dark, contemplative look upon them both.

Both Naia and Saoirse watched him go.

“Perhaps I should have given him shinier coins,” Saoirse mused in a thoughtful whisper.

Naia swallowed, nodding, for that must have been what offended him. “We humans love our shiny things.”

“That we do,” Saoirse agreed, and promptly dug a gleaming coin from the pouch at her waist. Holding it triumphantly up, she set it on the table with a click. “I’m sure this will please him.”

“If it doesn’t, he’s a fool,” Naia said a little haughtily. “It’s very shiny.”

Both women gazed a little wistfully at the coin.

“So,” Saoirse said at last. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you like to do?”

Naia didn’t hesitate with this answer. It was one she had prepared. “I walk. Everywhere. All of the time. Walking. It burns my muscles most pleasantly.”

“Walking is wonderful, isn’t it?” Saoirse agreed, an excited flush crossing her pale cheeks. “Not always convenient. But it’s always an adventure.”

Naia nodded in eager agreement. She was overjoyed to have so much in common with this human.

“Perhaps we can walk after our tea,” Naia ventured. “Where the cliffs overlook the sea.”

Before Saoirse could answer, the waiter returned. His hands slammed the table, and Naia and Saoirse both jumped in their seats as the teapot and cups rattled on the shaking wood. Saoirse’s lips curled back, and her white teeth gleamed. From Naia’s mouth, there escaped a hiss.

Gone was the waiter’s easy cordiality. His fine-boned cheeks were pale, and those green eyes were sharp as the broken glass which collected beneath the shipyard waters. His elegant fingers curled around the edges of the table as he glared.

“I know,” he said, and his voice was trembling. Whether with rage or fear, Naia couldn’t be sure.

Naia’s heart was a rock in her chest. Mouth dry, she could only stare as her toes curled helplessly in her boots.

It was Saoirse who spoke. “Know what?” she snapped.

“You can stop hiding. I know what you are.”

Naia heaved a shuddering breath. Swallowing, she looked across the table. Saoirse, her gaze filled with inexplicable terror, stared back.

“I don’t understand why you fae hunters won’t just leave me alone.” The waiter’s voice hitched, and he sounded near to tears.

Naia’s head whipped around so fast that her neck gave a twinge. “What?”

At once, the waiter's rage fled, melting instead into an exhausted sort of grief. Green eyes welling with bright, inhuman tears, he bitterly shook his head. “I saw that you refused the tea. Not a drop of it was drunk! It’s a myth you know. I can’t bespell folk with just any food or drink.”

“Oh,” Naia said, drawing a wondering breath. “You’re meant to drink it.”

“Yes of course you drink-” the waiter’s mouth snapped closed. “Wait what?”

“What?” Saoirse exclaimed, looking at Naia.

“Wait...” Naia said looking back at Saoirse, taking in her dark eyes and the pelt around her shoulders.

“What?!” the waiter said, throwing his hands up as he looked between them.

“You’re not human,” Naia and Saoirse said in unison.

For a long moment, all three were silent.

And then Saoirse was laughing, and it was a sharp, barking sound.

Naia pressed a hand over her mouth as she looked at Saoirse. “You’re a selkie,” she said between her fingers.

“Well of course I am. And you’re merfolk,” Saoirse said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“Yes well you’re both responsible for the couple hundred years that stress probably took from my life,” the waiter said, tossing his braid over his shoulder and crossing his arms against his chest.

“Is leaf water good?” Naia asked, looking at him doubtfully.

“Of course it is,” the waiter said with a sigh and pulled up a chair. “Here, let me pour it.”

Steam rose from the mugs, and Naia watched as it softened Saoirse’s sharp features. “I thought you were my first human friend,” Naia admitted.

Saoirse bit her lip, and Naia again glimpsed those sharp teeth. “Maybe instead I’ll be your first Selkie friend?”

Wrapping her fingers around the hot mug, Naia smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

“And we can still take that walk. I do so like moving these legs,” Saoirse said. Gaze sliding to her right, she studied the waiter. “Would you like to join us, faerie?”

“It’s Adam,” he said with a sniff. “And yes, alright.”

“I’ll give you a bracelet to make up for scaring you,” Saoirse said.

“And I will not eat you should you slip and fall into my waters,” Naia generously offered.

“...thanks.”

Naia grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Tea was good, as it turned out. And once the teapot was empty, the mermaid, selkie, and faerie left the shop to walk together.

If any should have turned their gaze toward the ocean that day, they would have observed three windswept silhouettes trailing along the pale bluffs. And should the watcher have persisted in watching, they would have seen the figures’ outlines shifting, becoming something beautiful and other when faced with the vast blue of sky and sea.

#my writing #original writing #short story #story #storytelling #fantasy #fantasy writing #fantasy story #fiction #writing prompt #mythical beings #mermay2021 #mermaid #selkie

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dianeramic · 3 years

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Name: Gannet Petrovich Species: human Age: 35 Alignment: true neutral? Height: 5ft 4in

Personality: Relaxed, unprofessional, eager, incredibly extroverted Backstory: After being raise din a remote fishing village in Russia, Gannet immigrated to the "utopian" city-state of Nunovi to pursue computer sciences and robotics. He was soon ranked as the most qualified individual to lead Nunovi by the AI that ran the performance tests on all the citizens, much to the chagrin of several others who thought he was a terrible choice for being in such a position (they were right). Gannet was involved in an accident that took out his left arm and both legs, which have been replaced with cybernetics that he knows are not entirely practical, but look cool to him. He eventually develops a replacement AI for the city's aging software.

#oc #gannet #original character #scifi #nunovi #science fiction #drawing #art #human

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tribbetherium · 3 years

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The Late Rodentocene: 20 million years post-establishment

Lake It or Leave It: The Great Lakes of Nodera

It is early morning on the continent of Nodera. The twin suns bathe the landscape in a warm orange glow, as they rise together side-by-side on the eastern horizon, closer together in the sky than any other time of the year: midwinter.

The morning light casts its glow upon a tranquil scene near the shores of an enormous aquatic landscape: the Great Lakes of Nodera. The largest inland body of water on the surface of HP-02017, the Great Lakes connect to the sea by a river system opening out to the Centralic Ocean, and is comprised of a system of several interconnnected bodies of water, gouged into the landscape by the shifting tectonics of Nodera and filled up with water by the action of erosion and precipitation ofver the course of countless millenia.

In this tranquil lanlocked lake several signs of life begin to stir in the cool morning breeze, as the residents of the water's edge awaken to begin their day. On the grassy banks, a large, beaver-sized rodent begins to amble about in search of food, its bold stripes serving as a warning to potential predators of its potent defense mechanism, while up above in the sky, soar several winged figures: ones that from a distance one would suppose to be birds -- until they remembered that on this planet, there were no birds at all.

It has been another 10 million years since we last explored the diversity of this planet's evolution, and from those humble creatures of the Middle Rodentocene strange new forms have emerged. Strange new forms that on a surface view uncannily resemble the familiarity of Earth's fauna, but upon a closer look are revealed to be an entirely different creature, molded from their ancestors by the forces of evolution in an ever-changing world.

The Great Lakes of Nodera have been filled by a diverse ecosystem of aquatic life, such as forests of water plants which become home to freshwater shrish: descendants of krill that have become analogues of the fish on Earth and now have colonized this inland body of water as well. Some of them migrated upriver to spawn, found the lakes, and ultimately came to permanently settle there, becoming a part of the local ecosystem-- and a veritable food source for the descendants of the planet's first aquatic hamster, the pondrats (Aquacricetus spp.)

Ten million years have done wonders on the humble pondrat, as it comes to dominate aquatic niches throughout the lake systems. One of the more basal and populous of these are the smellcastors (Castorocricetus spp.), a group of amphibious omnivores that forage for shrish, mollusks and water plants. They are roughly the size of Earth beavers and quite closely resemble them too, save for one conspicuous feature: lacking the beaver's paddle-like tail, or indeed any tail at all, they instead propel themselves through the water with webbed, flipper-like hind feet. Smellcastors are so called for their defensive tactic of spraying an overpowering scent from modified anal musk glands that can seriously irritate a predator's sensitive nose: their bold markings are warnings of their ability, and many predators quickly learn to leave them alone.

Other descendants of the pondrat that make a living in these waters include the lutrons (Lutracricetus spp.), which are smaller and more slender than their striped and smelly cousin and spend far more time in the water, pursuing shrish with grace and agility and seldom emerging onto dry land, where their flippered hind feet make them awkward and clumsy waddlers. Another relative is the pug-billed ratypus (Brachycephalomys platypoides), a bottom-feeding pondrat with a distinctive squashed-in face and wide, sagging lips and cheeks. Long whiskers help probe for small invertebrates in the muddy pond bottom, which the ratypus slurps into its mouth and stores in its cheeks while it swims, surfacing every few minutes to breathe, chew and swallow.

And the life on the lake system isn't limited to just pondrats: in the resource-rich environments of the Great Lakes other lineages have thrived as well. The hamtelopes, specifically the long-legged ratzelles (Cervicricetus spp.), have put their elongated limbs to good use to take advantage of soft water plants growing in the shallows, becoming lanky waders that spend much of their time in knee-high water feasting on the abundance of water plants. Meanwhile, on a higher rung of the food chain lurk the searets (Lutrodiromys spp.): large aquatic ferrats that hunt like crocodiles, ambushing prey like wading hamtelopes and pondrats while swimming half-submerged, with the help of powerful crushing jaws that can drag prey underwater to drown.

But of greater interest are the vaguely-avian flyers that congregate in the skies above the Great Lakes: the ratbats (family Nyctocricetidae). Descended from the flittering jazzhand of ten million years prior, they have webbed wings of skin like bats, and fly in the daytime like birds, but are neither: like all other vertebrates in this planet, they are hamsters, albeit ones that through eons of evolution now barely resemble the familiar chubby rodent that comes to mind with this name.

The clapping, insect-seizing motions of the jazzhand have given rise to active powered flight in the ratbats, with their webbed hands merging with their patagia and becoming a true, functional wing. Two of their fingers have lengthened into supports for their wings, while the other two fingers bear large claws and toe pads, and are used for walking quadrupedally on the ground, with the wing fingers flexible enough to fold out of the way when walking and keeping them from dragging their delicate wings on the ground.

One of the most common ratbats seen in the skies around the Great Lakes is the squift (Nyctocricetus spp.), an agile insectivore that specialized to feast on the abundance of flying insects that breed and nest in water. Swarms of them congregate above the lake's surface during the breeding season, and the squifts are never far behind, darting acrobatically through the swarm to snatch up insects midair. Its close cousin, the duskflapper (Pteromys spp.) has a similar lifestyle, but instead emerges at dawn, dusk and Beta-twilight, feeding on the buffet of flying insects active at this time, and thus avoiding competition with its diurnal relative.

Ratbats have reached a massive amount of diversity since they first achieved powered flight, and among the hundreds of species living in this time are a wide array of different niches: their ranks including not only insectivores but also seed-eaters, nectar-feeders, and even predators of small ground rodents. But most notable are the shrishers (Piscivenatomys spp.), large plunge-divers with wingspans of almost six feet, and are the biggest flyers of the Late Rodentocene. They specialize on feeding on shrish, and thus have long snouts and multi-cusped molars, allowing them a good hold of their slippery prey, and not content to snatch them from the surface, dive in the water like gannets to seize their prey underwater before bursting back into the skies with their meal in tow. Specialized oil glands on their skin keep their fur water repellant, and so shrishers are commonly seen vainly preening themselves constantly, to keep their fur all greased up and resistant to sogginess when diving after their aquatic prey.

The Great Lakes of Nodera, like many isolated ecosystems, has become a sanctuary for unique and endemic lifeforms, and the unusual hamsters that have adapted to live in an aquatic environment. But their isolation is not to last: as East Nodera gradually breaks away from West Nodera with the drifting tectonics, the Great Lakes will soon be opened up to the sea- and with it, the aquatic hamsters, in the distant future, soon find themselves in a vast new body of water ripe for the taking: the Centralic Ocean itself.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

#speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo #speculative zoology #hamster's paradise

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belovedquotables · 3 years

Text

The Rune Poem

Part Three: Anglo-Saxon Version

(in Modern English)

Wealth is a comfort to all men;

yet must every man bestow it freely,

if he wish to gain honour in the sight of the Lord.

The aurochs is proud and has great horns;

it is a very savage beast and fights with its horns;

a great ranger of the moors, it is a creature of mettle.

The thorn is exceedingly sharp,

an evil thing for any knight to touch,

uncommonly severe on all who sit among them.

The mouth is the source of all language,

a pillar of wisdom and a comfort to wise men,

a blessing and a joy to every knight.

Riding seems easy to every warrior while he is indoors

and very courageous to him who traverses the high-roads

on the back of a stout horse.

The torch is known to every living man by its pale, bright flame;

it always burns where princes sit within.

Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity;

it furnishes help and subsistence

to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.

Bliss he enjoys who knows not suffering, sorrow nor anxiety,

and has prosperity and happiness and a good enough house.

Hail is the whitest of grain;

it is whirled from the vault of heaven

and is tossed about by gusts of wind

and then it melts into water.

Trouble is oppressive to the heart;

yet often it proves a source of help and salvation

to the children of men, to everyone who heeds it betimes.

Ice is very cold and immeasurably slippery;

it glistens as clear as glass and most like to gems;

it is a floor wrought by the frost, fair to look upon.

Summer is a joy to men, when God, the holy King of Heaven,

suffers the earth to bring forth shining fruits

for rich and poor alike.

The yew is a tree with rough bark,

hard and fast in the earth, supported by its roots,

a guardian of flame and a joy upon an estate.

Peorth is a source of recreation and amusement to the great,

where warriors sit blithely together in the banqueting-hall.

The Eolh-sedge is mostly to be found in a marsh;

it grows in the water and makes a ghastly wound,

covering with blood every warrior who touches it.

The sun is ever a joy in the hopes of seafarers

when they journey away over the fishes' bath,

until the courser of the deep bears them to land.

Tiw is a guiding star; well does it keep faith with princes;

it is ever on its course over the mists of night and never fails.

The poplar bears no fruit; yet without seed it brings forth suckers,

for it is generated from its leaves.

Splendid are its branches and gloriously adorned

its lofty crown which reaches to the skies.

The horse is a joy to princes in the presence of warriors.

A steed in the pride of its hoofs,

when rich men on horseback bandy words about it;

and it is ever a source of comfort to the restless.

The joyous man is dear to his kinsmen;

yet every man is doomed to fail his fellow,

since the Lord by his decree will commit the vile carrion to the earth.

The ocean seems interminable to men,if they venture on the rolling bark

and the waves of the sea terrify them

and the courser of the deep heed not its bridle.

Ing was first seen by men among the East-Danes,

till, followed by his chariot,

he departed eastwards over the waves.

So the Heardingas named the hero.

An estate is very dear to every man,

if he can enjoy there in his house

whatever is right and proper in constant prosperity.

Day, the glorious light of the Creator, is sent by the Lord;

it is beloved of men, a source of hope and happiness to rich and poor,

and of service to all.

The oak fattens the flesh of pigs for the children of men.

Often it traverses the gannet's bath,

and the ocean proves whether the oak keeps faith in honourable fashion.

The ash is exceedingly high and precious to men.

With its sturdy trunk it offers a stubborn resistance,

though attacked by many a man.

Yr is a source of joy and honour to every prince and knight;

it looks well on a horse and is a reliable equipment for a journey.

Iar is a river fish and yet it always feeds on land;

it has a fair abode encompassed by water, where it lives in happiness.

The grave is horrible to every knight,

when the corpse quickly begins to cool

and is laid in the bosom of the dark earth.

Prosperity declines, happiness passes away

and covenants are broken.

Source: "Runic and Heroic Poems" by Bruce Dikins

#daily poetry #the rune poem #anglo saxon #rune #occult #witchcraft #pagan #viking runes #divination #old world

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fistsoflightning · 4 years

Text

23: i wanna know what you’re doing tonight

prompt: shuffle || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2796

Does writing music based on things your friend said count as flirting?

It’s AU brainworm time everybody >:3 This “main street” AU is basically balefire/mom squad’s ‘what if we made a bunch of small town romance ideas and mashed them together’ which turns out to be a lot more hilarious than it should be. Featuring (chat) cameos from @windupcatgirl @to-the-voiceless @windupnamazu @verbroil and @winduphaurchefant because why not. Title from this song!

For all intents and purposes, Zaya enjoys autumn; summer heat cooling off into a pleasant chill, the sunlight that lingers enough to keep warm in the early weeks. The trees may die, but in doing so they grow colorful, and though the flowers in A’dewah’s little shop don’t do the same he changes which ones are on display to match better with the tree outside. It does mean Krile—and more recently, one G’raha Tia—have to return to Mor Dhona, their studies resuming, but it’s not like they can’t chat.

It does, however, mean the return of autumn showers—and they don’t even hate rain that much—and fortunately Zaya managed to forget their poncho just as the first big storm pulled in. Mor Dhona wasn’t that far of a drive away, really, just two or three hours on a road Zaya had taken enough times before, but in the middle of a rainstorm? Without a rainproof coat?

Well, at least Miss Eldfalk’s documents are staying dry in the carrier at Zaya’s back, even if the chill of the rain has already soaked through the wool of their jacket and started to dampen their shirt by the time they pull into the parking garage just a block or so away from the museum waiting on Sjanna’s delivery. Thankfully the inn is just an elevator away and not on the other side of the road; they should keep a spare poncho or umbrella in the motorcycle luggage next time.

Zaya pushes the thought aside as they slip off their helmet and the phone in their pocket begins to buzz about, safely tucked within the canvas pocket of their overalls and hopefully not just as soaked as their hands are. Wiping their palms and fingers on the inside of their legs, they unzip the soggy jacket and tug out the borrowed phone to see the numerous Linkcord notifications—of course.

Leaning onto the front of their motorcycle, Zaya hardly takes a second glance up to the storm just out the window behind them as a few taps and a swipe unlocks the screen, opening up to the Linkcord discussion of the day (night? Night.)

[ text channel #mom-panic; 9:47 PM ]

banned for baby crimes zayaaaaaa i miss you Hanami Hagane You are just saying that because you have no one to drag around the fair. Hanami Hagane Besides, they will be back tomorrow afternoon. banned for baby crimes no i’m not!! that’s too long!! i brought ihget but he’s being stupid and wont ride the ferris wheel with me :’) banned for baby crimes i cant find lunya and reese either so now im stuck with himbo here local breadhead we’re just by the cotton candy stand! lunya’s waving at you ;) banned for baby crimes OH THERE YOU ARE HOW DID I MISS YOU hold on i gotta grab the chad first local breadhead 😊 banned for baby crimes but i really miss zaya even if they’re just over in mor dhona.. so does ochir he- i- banned for baby crimes has anyone seen ochir ihget lost him in the crowd- this says zaya 😱 reese is in pieces :O( YOU WHAT?? local breadhead oh dear lmao reese is in pieces :O( i hope no one tries to take him :( reese is in pieces :O( lunya says if your stupid catboy loses zaya’s bird shes not going to make you two the mini versions of zaya’s courier hat banned for baby crimes IT SNTO MY FAULT ZAYA JR HERE WAS BEIGNB ROODY ADN LOOKED AWAY NOOOOOOO,,, Hanami Hagane Why bring the bird with you, anyways. Zaya lent you Ochir’s cage. banned for baby crimes he made sad noises when ihget n i were abt to leave,,,,

The chat quickly devolves from there into Sati panicking about Zaya’s violet-backed starling going rogue and everyone else jumping in and hells, they are not in the mood to manage that. Drops of water fall from their chin onto the screen; they hastily wipe it away before shoving the phone back into their pocket and hop off their motorcycle. A few quick movements with the key round their wrist opens up the luggage attachment with the satchel of papers inside—blessedly dry, thank the gods they splurged on a decent one instead—which they swing over their shoulder as they start walking to the elevator.

A dripping trail has probably followed them all the way from the parking garage to the lobby, they think in passing as they stop at the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to turn around. Their hand goes to fiddle with the small keychain on their keyring as they wait, still dripping their own personal puddle around them.

“Hello, hello! Welcome to the Seventh Heaven, how may I—” Tataru turns around, small smile widening into a sunny bright grin when she sees them, even if they’re dripping all over the lobby. “Zaya! Good to see you back again; need a room for the night, then?”

A curt nod (that sends water droplets onto the surface of Tataru’s desk) is all she needs to hop off her stepping stool and onto the ground, waving Zaya along before she cheerily marches down the halls with a keyring jingling in her hand. Not even the gloomy rainstorm thundering outside can put a damper on her mood, it seems.

“Payment for the night’s stay may be given in the form of Gannet Bay gossip, alright?” Tataru unlocks the door to a nicely decorated room with a quick turn of her hand, playfully winking over her shoulder as she does. Her violet eyes glimmer almost the same as Lunya’s, really; filled with teasing joy and secrets. “I’ve heard from the grapevine about a certain catboy quite enjoying the atmosphere out there, now!”

She steps aside as the door swings fully open, giving a little curtsy, and Zaya gives her an energetic thumbs-up as they walk past her into the room, pleasantly warm and bright from the small fireplace in the corner of the room, banked low so its amber glow only flickers across the floor.

First things first: getting out of all the soggy clothing they’re wearing.

They hang their satchel (papers still neatly bound inside, good) on the wall hook by the door and haphazardly strip off their shoes and socks, followed by the once-warm and fluffy jacket as they look about for spare hangers.

Ah; Tataru always has their back. Hanging on the end of the bed are a set of four or so hangers, which Zaya snaps up with ease, carefully slipping the wooden hangers through sleeves and loops as they finally get to their undershirt—blissfully dry, if not a bit cold. Their overalls aren’t all that damp on the top but are more than soaked the further down the legs one looks… hopefully that dries quick enough.

Just as they finish kicking their ankle-high boots to the mat by the door, a quiet yet unfamiliar chime fills the room, and Zaya nearly thinks to check outside the door for the noise when the light vibrations trickle up their arm. The soft ringtone—someone humming along to a muffled orchestra, maybe; not the smartest of choices for a calling ringtone—grows louder as Zaya stares down at their collection of soggy clothing.

...Alright, second: answer the damn phone?

Zaya nearly fumbles all the hangers to grab their phone from the pockets of their overalls and accept the call, only briefly reading the name from the screen before his face pops up in its place. White hair and a charming grin, perhaps—that is, to anyone who hadn’t heard the words that fall from his mouth like gentle rain.

(Okay, well, maybe that just helped. Zaya wasn’t going to say that out loud to anybody regardless; it didn’t matter what they thought of Thancred’s charms. Probably.)

“...I’d say ‘good evening’ but I wager you are having anything but just by the water dripping off your hair,” Thancred says in lieu of greeting, his voice warm and surrounded by the distant sounds of the usual fall fair attractions. “So instead, I’ll say this; is that old phone serving you well enough?”

Zaya nods; given, this one’s a bit clunky, but the lightness of their actual tomephone may have indirectly been the reason that they’d dropped it while helping out around town and eventually cracked the screen. At least Thancred had offered to lend them his old one for the trip to Mor Dhona in case, just on the off chance someone truly needed their attention, like for lost birds and ways to punish a distracted idiot.

They set it on the table, the front camera facing towards the window as Zaya steps into frame, still fiddling with the hangers in their hands. Mor Dhona may be covered in a gloomy storm, but the golden lights from the buildings around Revenant’s Toll Square still glow brightly in the distance, a refuge from the biting torrent of cold rain.

“Survived the water,” they sign slowly, stepping closer to the fireplace in a subtle attempt to dry off a bit quicker, almost fumbling when their fingers stiffen, chilled to the bone. Thancred laughs, the bridge of his nose crinkling just a tad like how it does when he can’t stop cracking himself up. “Still has power, too.”

“Glad to see it has survived, then.” There’s a slight pause where Thancred stops talking (and laughing) to catch his breath, the small silence filled with Zaya leaving frame to go hang their soaked clothes over the fireplace to hopefully dry for tomorrow. When they come back to look at the camera, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights dance across Thancred’s face, some colorfully lit attraction before him leaving his platinum blonde hair awash with a rainbow of color. “The storm there should burn off by early dawn, though; hopefully you will not have to drag yourself home dripping wet from your business in Mor Dhona.”

Ah, good. They yawn as discreetly as someone who’s on a video call can—which is to say, not very, and a rosy flush must spread on their face when Thancred chuckles under his breath, low and steady.

“Forgive me,” he says next, voice lowered as if he were disturbing someone’s rest. “I must be keeping you from collapsing; I can’t imagine a drive in the freezing rain and getting soaked is the least draining way to spend one’s night.”

In-between stretching out the tense muscles in their back and neck do they grunt some noise of agreement, the strain flaring momentarily before melting into a drowsy warmth that drips down the ridges of their spine. Really, spending time in Mor Dhona at all is a draining waste of time—when you make your home in somewhere as vibrantly quiet as Gannet Bay it’s hard to want the big city over the comforts of familiarity, of knowing each shop and its owners personally, of being able to help them all and see their smiles.

At least they can see one person from home, now.

“ ‘S fine,” they mumble softly, heart stuttering when Thancred’s smile widens at the sound of their voice. Part of them wishes they were there to playfully elbow him for that—it’s not that rare tha they’ll speak—and the other part of them they are desperately trying to ignore. “How’s th’ fair.”

“Wonderful.” He looks up for a moment as Zaya wraps themselves in the bed coverings, presumably to whatever booth or stall is shining down on his face with fluorescent lights. “Ryne’s had a wonderful time, I think. I haven’t seen your friends around, but would you like to hear about the odd variety of attractions around?”

Zaya hums sleepily, waiting for him to continue. They hardly even notices when their eyelids grow heavy and their fingers return to their usual warmth, entranced enough by the fond familiarity of Thancred’s voice as they drift off to sleep.

…

The next morning, Zaya wakes with the dawn that rises across Mor Dhona, the bright golden sunrise sneaking through the cracks of the large curtains to tickle their bedsheets. The cityscape outside the window is covered by low autumn morning fog, glimmering as the sunlight dances over it and the puddles the passing storm had left behind in its wake. Outside, it is nearly silent, only a few passing cars and hardly any pedestrians around when Zaya does their morning stretches by the window.

As is always with a trip into the city, they fall into an easy routine; wake with the sun, stretch out whatever they can without breaking something, get dressed and hastily grab everything before rushing out the door, wave Tataru a rushed but genuine goodbye. Trot down to the parking garage, check the bike, throw the satchel back into the luggage on the back as they slip on their stereo cuffs and flick through playlists on their phone before going to get breakfast at the Bismarck—

Zaya pauses their flick-tap scroll through the playlists on their phone when they catch one with their name. Odd; Thancred did always have the habit of making his friends their own personal playlists, but they’d like to think they didn’t give him that much of a read on their tastes just yet.

Shrugging to no one but themselves, they tap on the playlist and let it begin to play as they slide the phone back into their overall pocket, starting up their motorcycle’s engine just as the song begins to play.

They stop.

[ DM history with @superbolide; 7:36 AM]

zayaya ❓ zayaya 🌅😊❗🎵🎧💿❓❓ superbolide good morning to you too :) you’re up rather early superbolide something the matter? superbolide ah i haven’t got another song for you yet, if that’s the question rest assured, i’ll find something yet! zayaya 🙅

It hardly takes them more than a few seconds to grab a small screenshot of the playlist in question, sending it and another screenshot back to Thancred as they quietly listen to the same song Rjoli and Reese had playing near constantly for last Valentione’s Day in the bakery—still manages to be catchy, somehow. Let it not be said that acoustic covers were not their favorite.

The notification ringtone chimes when Thancred responds, cheery and bright.

Zaya goes a bit bug-eyed at what he types next, the song fading off as the next one on shuffle comes up—piano, humming, Thancred’s voice—

Thankfully, for it being so early in the morning, there’s no one around in the parking garage to judge the frankly embarrassing noise they make at their phone, or the bright flush that spreads across their face.

It isn’t like that, they remember saying, sputtering like a fish out of water when Lunya had barely insinuated that Thancred’s small wave as he walked past was a bit more than friendly. There’s no way he’d be interested in the courier that helped him choose out a ribbon at the local boutique, of all people! He doesn’t even know where I work!

Zaya drops their forehead onto the dash of their motorcycle, careful not to hit their horns against anything as they do.

Looks like they were wrong, about it ‘not being like that’. Maybe.

(Oh gods, they really hope they’re wrong.)

…

[ text channel #mom-panic; 8:03 AM]

💬 this says zaya is typing...

this says zaya😑 this says zaya💭🌑💘 🤟 ❓ banned for baby crimes DOES HTAT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES closest to hell zaya qestir i swear on your lover boy’s life clarify for the peanut gallery local breadhead :0 reese is in pieces :O( i think hm reese is in pieces :O( zaya did thancred just confess or did somethign else happen this says zaya [ superbolide: oh haha i must have forgotten to upload those to my lifestream] this says zaya [ superbolide: there are some songs i did save, but all the clips there were lyrics i thought of after chatting w/ you 😉] this says zaya [ superbolide: i could make an EP dedicated to you w/ the inspo you gave me] this says zaya [ superbolide: that is, if you don’t mind] Hanami Hagane I told you he was obvious. closest to hell SATINA YOU OWE ME GUMMIES FROM SHOOTING STAR I CALLED IT closest to hell IT WAS OBVIOUS THE MUSIC HES MAKING WAS BC OF THEM local breadhead oh bless… that’s v sweet… banned for baby crimes HBHBHHB NOOO MY HARD EARNED GIL,,, banned for baby crimes BUT WE ALL WERE RIGHT ABOUT HIM THO reese is in pieces :O( awwwauaua!! banned for baby crimes so banned for baby crimes zaya banned for baby crimes when’s the wedding this says zaya 😡😡😡 closest to hell me🤝sati “when’s the wedding” this says zaya 👆💀🏡 Hanami Hagane You two better start running. banned for baby crimes WAIT ZAYA NO-

#ffxiv #zaya qestir #thancred waters #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #tales from the blue #my writing #main street au #look its 2020 and i can write chatfic with my normal fic if i want #the song may be about breakup but this fic sure aint :^)#i dont know how to make the names all color text in tumblr ;W; ill fix it later...#balefire #elie's ffxivwrite2020 #s: bound by faith

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

World Windows 2020

14 April 2020

Today’s Windows:

Visit Muriwai Gannet Colony, North Island, New Zealand with @onereyofstarlight

Visit Mallorca, Balearic Islands, Spain with @fictivekaleidoscope

Visit Port Lincoln, Eyre Peninsula, South Australia with me.

Thank you wonderful peeps for participating. If you have some favourite places you would like to share while we are all stuck at home, simply post some photos and tag #WorldWindows2020 (tagging me also helps so I can add your Window to the list). Remember, your backyard is exotic to people on the other side of the world (like me).

Today I’m taking you to the third peninsula in South Australia (we have three main ones - Fleurieu, Yorke and Eyre). This is the bottom of the Eyre Peninsula.

The Eyre Peninsula is massive and in some places, quite empty. The top half is dry and full of mallee and Outback red sands. The bottom drops enough latitude to catch the same weather as Adelaide and it has the greenery to match (which to the English and the Kiwis is possibly still quite brown, but I’m grabbing the green where I can get it :D).

Look a map to show you what I’m talking about :D

Geologically speaking (cos I’m a geek), the Eyre Peninsula is mostly comprised of ancient, ancient crystalline rocks. We’re talking the Gawler craton here. These are rocks that have been land since the Earth cooled. Australia has three cratons, two in Western Australia (one of which has the oldest rocks on Earth) and this one in South Australia. These rocks are tough and consequently, the coastline of the Eyre Peninsula is jagged, full of secret bays and dramatic. The western side of the peninsula is part of the Great Australian Bight - a place of wilderness and amazing things.

I don’t get over there very often. Port Lincoln, the main population centre of the region, is over 700kms from Adelaide. Equal to the distance between Adelaide and Melbourne. As the crow flies, it is much shorter, so many people just fly there and back, but I loves my car.

The last time I was there was in October 2003. I’m well overdue for a return visit. As a kid, though, I made it over there much more often and we used to stay in a beautiful place called Coffin Bay (named after a guy named Coffin, not the wooden box). I adore Coffin Bay, but I don’t have many photos, so that will be for a revisit special :D

In 2003, it was just me an Hubby and my one year old camera (so lots of blurry photos with my $1500 state of the art four megapixel camera...yes, you can laugh, I is old and prior to that it was film cameras and they just didn’t do it for me at all).

It was spring, so the weather was up and down like a yoyo.

You can still see my beloved Southern Ocean Blue :D

This is Port Lincoln itself - seventeen years ago (holy crap, I’m old).

It sits on Boston Bay, a place that was originally considered as a site for Adelaide. Also, Matthew Flinders (the first guy to circumnavigate Australia back in 1803) hated the place because he lost some crew while exploring it. If you look at the map, you can see that the bottom of the peninsula is riddled with complicated bays. These make for gorgeous, gorgeous harbours. In the background of this photo, you can see Lincoln National Park jutting out into the bay. It has a habit of burning down.

When we visited back then it was in bushfire recovery. It has had several bushfires since. But it is still beautiful.

I’ve always been a nut for taking photos of sunsets. This is facing west (funnily enough) behind Port Lincoln itself. There is water everywhere.

I took a photo of this glorious beetle (which I have since identified and forgotten again :D) at the top of a cliff in the howling wind and rain. Yes, I have experience for putting Virgil in his standing on cliffs environments :D There are lots of cliffs to stand on over there :D And plenty of howling wind.

But, of course, there are also lots of beaches. This is part of the Coffin Bay National Park which really deserves its own post (again, once I get over there again and take more photos). We are talking sand dunes for miles, hidden bays and fascinating underwater life (I saw my first scallop swimming when I was a kid off one of the limestone cliffs in Coffin Bay ...so many memories). I really need to take the kids over there. They haven’t been there yet.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed yet more photos of beaches :D I have plenty more to come :D

Nutty

(who was actually considering starting up a website to host photos of every beach in South Australia that my two wheel drive can get to).

#WorldWindows2020 #eyre peninsula #port lincoln #South Australia #South Australian beaches

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gifts-of-heimdall-runes · 5 years

Text

The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem

The Rune Poem (full text)

Translated by Dr. Aaron K. Hostetter

Wealth is a comfort to every man, although every man must share it out greatly if he would obtain a portion of the Lord’s glory.

The ox is single-minded and over-horned, most savage beast, fighting with his horns, well-known moor-stepper. That is a proud creature.

Thorns are severely sharp. To any thane seizing it is an evil, measurelessly cruel to every man who comes to rest upon it.

The mouth is the beginning of all speech, a support to wisdom and a comfort to the wise, and a prosperity and trust to every earl.

Riding is a comfort to every warrior in the hall, and very trying to those who sit upon a powerful courser over the mile-paths.

A torch is known by every living being to be on fire, white and bright, most often burning where the nobles rest themselves within.

Gifts are an honor and praise of men, a support and a distinction, and to every wretch mercy and meat to those who are free from other possessions.

Joy is enjoyed by those who little know of woe, pains and sorrow, and to those who have of themselves profit and bliss and also many citadels.

Hail is the whitest of grains. It comes down from heaven’s breeze, the wind’s showers rolls it down, and after it becomes water.

Need is a constraint on the breast, although it often comes to the sons of men a help and a healing of every one, if they hearken to his demands before.

Ice is really cold, measurelessly slippery glistening clear as glass, most like gemstones a floor created by frost, and a fair face.

The new year is the hope of men, when God allows, the Holy Heaven’s King, the earth to give her bright fruits to rich and poor alike.

The yew is an unsmooth tree without, hard, fixed to the earth, a warden of fires, supported by its roots, a joy in the home.

Peorth is always a play and laughter to the proud where warriors sit in the beer-hall, happy together.

Elk-sedge keeps its home most often in the swamps, it grows in the water, and grimly wounds, it burns the blood of any man who grasps it.

The sun is ever a hope to seamen, when they carry themselves over the fishes’ bath, until their brine-horses bring them to shore.

Tir is a certain token, it keeps its troth well with noble men. It is always on its journey over the clouds of night, never wandering.

Birch lacks fruit, even though it bears shoots without seed. It is lovely in its branches, high in its crown and fairly adorned, laden with leaves, pressing into the breeze.

Horses are for earls the joy of noblemen, a steed proud in its hooves, where the heroes about him, prosperous on horseback, weave their speech, and ever a comfort to those on the move.

Man is in mirth, dear to his brother; though every one must depart to another place, because the Lord wishes, through his own doom, that our wretched flesh be commended to the earth.

The waters seem to men to be broad, if they should venture upon an unstable ship, and the sea-waves terrify them so, and the brine-horse cares not for his bridle.

Ing was first among the Eastern Danes seen by men, until he soon afterwards departed over the ways, a wagon running after him. Thus bold men named this hero.

A homeland is very dear to every man, if there he may enjoy in his household what is right and fitting, very often with its fruits.

The day is the Lord’s message, dear to men, the renowned light of the Measurer, a mirth and troth to the prosperous and the wretched, useful to all.

The oak is fodder for flesh on earth for the sons of men. It frequently ferries over the gannet’s bath. The spear-waves test whether the oak possesses reliability for noble men.

The ash is very tall, dear to men, stout in its trunk, its hilt is rightfully fixed, although it fights against many men.

A bow is for every noble and earl a joy and an honor. It is fair on horseback, support on a journey, some part of a warrior’s tackle.

The gar is a river-fish, and though he takes his food on land, he owns a lovely home surrounded by water, where he lives in joy.

The grave is terrible to every earl, when the fixed flesh begins, the corpse cooling, to choose the earth paleness as its bedmate. Fruits fail, joys depart, mankind ceases to be.

https://anglosaxonpoetry.camden.rutgers.edu/the-rune-poem/

#runes #norse runes #anglo-saxon runes #anglo-saxon poetry #futhorc #futhark runes #elder futhark runes #rune art #my art #serif #3d designs #aaron hostetter #gifts of heimdall runes #gifts of heimdall

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juleatic · 5 years

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Lair Review: Gannet, #119826

@ridgegannet I take it from your name that you like Ridgebacks. I’m very curious to see how many of them are there in your lair :D Also: “Rich - They sit around and drink wine all day” just got me a good laugh xD Btw, is there any reason you go back and forth from LIghtning to Earth? Like lore reasons or anything else? o:

First Impression: Holy cow, Ridgebacks! In many pretty colors, omg. I love it! I’m also happy that there aren’t too many rich wine drinking dragons out there who live on cost of the others, hehe xD Some of the residents seem to be kind of shady though... I’m very curious about that. And just to say it beforehand: I love all your planet dragons. They are SO cool!

I love dragons who take themselves not too seriously. Ephron the intern, who is a little bit dumb. I immediately feel sympathy for him and want to protect him. Such a good boy. Also: Copper. Do I need to say any more?

SUCH A GOOD ACCENT. I love her. I wonder if she’s a good guard tho, if she’s kind and carefree. Like, when she’s on duty, doesn’t she need to care a little? xD But other than that: Perfect. Love her colors. Her scarf somehow really fits the theme of the “carefree” dragon and makes her a little less intimidating, I think. So yeah: GOOD DRAGON.

Well, I don’t really know how to start. She could walk over me and I would thank her, you know? SO PRETTY. I’m a sucker for the color scheme and the accent and I am curious as to how she is personality wise. Probably very confident, a little rude and not approachable? Sorry if I’m wrong with that! But I wouldn’t necessarily approach someone with a trident anyway, so maybe that’s why.

Looks has some of the same apparel that Tesona has and I honestly can’t blame you for this, as I too love these candles. They are awesome. Just like Lux herself. The Marigold Trail looks SO good! I totally missed the release of this gene and I just... I’m in awe, okay? The accent is also so cool! Gives me a little bit of the peacock vibes, but it looks so much better! I can relate with the just wanting to read thing btw.

Okay, so Greatneck’s a merchant. But what does he sell? He looks a little intimidating and shady, so I wonder if everything he sells was obtained legally? But who makes the rules anyway... He is a cute dragon, with very nice apparel (love the dried flowers!) and a color combination I usually don’t like, but it looks so good on him! Espescially with the apparel. So he just caught my eye (that, and of course because he looks shady)

That was all! Thank you so much, I hope you liked it :D

#flight rising #fr #lair review #dragon share #long post

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electricaquarius · 3 months

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I finally finished it! This is basically my version of what went down in the Save Vanra sidequest including a bit of my Tav's backstory. A little jealous Gale but not too much, Astarion and Karlach are here but only slightly. Tbh this is kind of a mess but I'm just glad to have it done.

'It's not a fight I'm worried about...' Gale muttered darkly but followed her all the same, briefly wondering where Astarion had disappeared to.

'You know where she'll be, girl. Go up and show your face, I'll keep an eye on your mates while you do.' He nodded to the stairs. It was here Gale found his voice once again.

'Upstairs is for regulars only. Sit down, lover boy, she'll be fine.' He nodded to the empty barstool next to Karlach. 'Besides, someone needs to pay up for the amount the tiefling's knocking back.'

‘No huge loss, I’d wager.’ Astarion sniffed derisively. ‘Now then, before we start turning the place upside down, would you indulge us both as to what this nickname business is?’

‘Faith, hmm?’ Gale rubbed his chin. ‘Suits you, actually. You’ve had nothing but faith in more than one of our shadier companions.’

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junker-town · 3 years

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Media Club: A Perfect Planet

Getty Images

Despite incredible cinematography and fascinating wildlife, Sir David Attenborough’s latest is not the step forward it ought to be.

2020 did not contain what is usually the BBC Natural History Unit’s yearly blue-chip release, because 2020 sucked at pretty much everything. (Except at launching Secret Base. Obviously.) Instead we had to wait until early 2021 to get A Perfect Planet, which released in full on January 4th.

Despite its worryingly Panglossian name, I had high hopes. Obviously, A Perfect Planet would be an absolute masterpiece of wildlife cinematography, since it’s a BBC Earth production, but it also seemed to promise a new direction for these big documentaries, which have drifted away from more serious scientific storytelling into the realm of the shiny shiny.

This was meant to be something new:

A Perfect Planet is a unique fusion of blue chip natural history and earth science that explains how our living planet operates. This five-part series will show how the forces of nature drive, shape and support Earth’s great diversity of wildlife. The first four episodes explore the power of volcanoes, sunlight, weather and oceans.

It was pretty easy to see a blurb like that and get carried away. What would a documentary that treated the interconnecting systems of life on Earth look like? Could we get a through-line from, say, plate tectonics to oceanography to astronomy to biochemistry to explain the rich feeding grounds of the Humboldt current? Might we get a detailed look at the evidence that life emerged at undersea volcanic vents? Might photosynthesis be explored in something like full?

The answer to all of these questions turns out to be “no”. A Perfect Planet takes its supposed premise, tosses most of it away and uses the remainder as an excuse to stitch together a bunch of shiny shinies. Not that I’m averse to shiny shinies. Some of the shinies are shiny indeed — take, for instance, this shot:

BBC Earth

This is from the first sequence of Volcanos, and shows the flamingo crêche at Lake Natron, in Tanzania. It’s an astonishingly cool (and sometimes brutal) look at the nesting habits of the lesser flamingo, which relies on the volcanic lake to breed. But while the flamingos are new and welcome, vulcanism is peripheral.

The second episode is more of the same. The Sun opens with a look at the fig wasp, which is a zoological celebrity that has never been properly filmed before. The BBC Earth team manages it, giving us an extraordinary look at the symbiotic relationship between the planet’s weirdest flower and its tiny wasp pals. What does this have to do with the actual sun? The sun ripens figs. (Duh.)

Here’s another example from that episode:

BBC Earth

A) I had no idea that arctic hares existed in such riotous abundance, B) this is a beautiful shot in its own right and C) in motion really gives an idea of the benefits of herding behavior in the face of predation. Presented with a blurry cavalcade of hares, the wolves simply cannot pick out a target, and are forced to give up the hunt.

What does this have to do with the sun? Fuck if I know.

Instead of living up to its full potential, A Perfect Planet is a pastiche of scenes only vaguely aligned with the episode’s concepts. Sure, we get a couple nice shots of volcanoes, and a brief overview of the moon’s effect on the tides, but these are all peripheral to what the show wants to be, which is the same collection of shinies we’ve been watching since the first Planet Earth. Science is subordinated to spectacle.

A Perfect Planet is also ... weirdly horny, even for a nature show. I am absolutely never going to get over Sir David Attenborough saying “his aim is to deposit a packet of sperm inside her mouth,” and I doubt anyone else will either. There’s also rock-climbing snake orgy, and bits of the aforementioned fig wasp sequence are so unsettlingly perverse I hesitate to commit them to writing.

Ultimately, A Perfect Planet is worth watching. There’s some stuff in here I’ve never seen before (the vampire finches!), and most of the familiar sequences benefit from significant improvements in cinematography and definition. Also I’m a sucker for gannet hunting scenes, and we get one of those, so I feel bad for complaining.

But still, given what was promised, the result isn’t as perfect as it ought to be.

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northernirelandabroad · 5 years

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Final Ulster museum pictures for today, because the art galleries were closed. I didn’t catch the name of the furst two birds, but the last two are the Goldcrest (the one with the cool mohawk) and the Northern Gannet (the one with green feet). I caved and biught the Utah Raptor plush as my Ulster museum souvenir and I also picked up some rock bracelets to be his necklaces, since I ended up giving Vincent a leather band for a necklace I thought his new friend should have one as well.

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem

(in Modern English)

From : Runic and Heroic Poems, by Bruce Dickins.

Feoh

Wealth is a comfort to all men;

yet must every man bestow it freely,

if he wish to gain honour in the sight of the Lord.

The aurochs is proud and has great horns;

it is a very savage beast and fights with its horns;

a great ranger of the moors, it is a creature of mettle.

Thorn

The thorn is exceedingly sharp,

an evil thing for any knight to touch,

uncommonly severe on all who sit among them.

The mouth is the source of all language,

a pillar of wisdom and a comfort to wise men,

a blessing and a joy to every knight.

Rad

Riding seems easy to every warrior while he is indoors

and very courageous to him who traverses the high-roads

on the back of a stout horse.

Cen

The torch is known to every living man by its pale, bright flame;

it always burns where princes sit within.

Gyfu

Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity;

it furnishes help and subsistence

to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.

Wynn

Bliss he enjoys who knows not suffering, sorrow nor anxiety,

and has prosperity and happiness and a good enough house.

Haegel

Hail is the whitest of grain;

it is whirled from the vault of heaven

and is tossed about by gusts of wind

and then it melts into water.

Nyd

Trouble is oppressive to the heart;

yet often it proves a source of help and salvation

to the children of men, to everyone who heeds it betimes.

Ice is very cold and immeasurably slippery;

it glistens as clear as glass and most like to gems;

it is a floor wrought by the frost, fair to look upon.

Ger

Summer is a joy to men, when God, the holy King of Heaven,

suffers the earth to bring forth shining fruits

for rich and poor alike.

Eoh

The yew is a tree with rough bark,

hard and fast in the earth, supported by its roots,

a guardian of flame and a joy upon an estate.

Peordh

Peorth is a source of recreation and amusement to the great,

where warriors sit blithely together in the banqueting-hall.

Eolh

The Eolh-sedge is mostly to be found in a marsh;

it grows in the water and makes a ghastly wound,

covering with blood every warrior who touches it.

Sigel

The sun is ever a joy in the hopes of seafarers

when they journey away over the fishes' bath,

until the courser of the deep bears them to land.

Tir

Tiw is a guiding star; well does it keep faith with princes;

it is ever on its course over the mists of night and never fails.

Berok

The poplar bears no fruit; yet without seed it brings forth suckers,

for it is generated from its leaves.

Splendid are its branches and gloriously adorned

its lofty crown which reaches to the skies.

The horse is a joy to princes in the presence of warriors.

A steed in the pride of its hoofs,

when rich men on horseback bandy words about it;

and it is ever a source of comfort to the restless.

Mann

The joyous man is dear to his kinsmen;

yet every man is doomed to fail his fellow,

since the Lord by his decree will commit the vile carrion to the earth.

Lagu

The ocean seems interminable to men,

if they venture on the rolling bark

and the waves of the sea terrify them

and the courser of the deep heed not its bridle.

Ing

Ing was first seen by men among the East-Danes,

till, followed by his chariot,

he departed eastwards over the waves.

So the Heardingas named the hero.

Ethel

An estate is very dear to every man,

if he can enjoy there in his house

whatever is right and proper in constant prosperity.

Daeg

Day, the glorious light of the Creator, is sent by the Lord;

it is beloved of men, a source of hope and happiness to rich and poor,

and of service to all.

The oak fattens the flesh of pigs for the children of men.

Often it traverses the gannet's bath,

and the ocean proves whether the oak keeps faith

in honourable fashion.

Aesc

The ash is exceedingly high and precious to men.

With its sturdy trunk it offers a stubborn resistance,

though attacked by many a man.

Yr is a source of joy and honour to every prince and knight;

it looks well on a horse and is a reliable equipment for a journey.

Ior

Iar is a river fish and yet it always feeds on land;

it has a fair abode encompassed by water, where it lives in happiness.

Ear

The grave is horrible to every knight,

when the corpse quickly begins to cool

and is laid in the bosom of the dark earth.

Prosperity declines, happiness passes away

and covenants are broken.

http://sacredwicca.jigsy.com/runes

Picture ohsmrpowell12.wordpress.com

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