#first time im using coloured text in a post which is Odd

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

not really enjoying tumblrs trend of comparing Thomas Andrews to Stockton Rush 😒Could you share how the two differ despite the fact they died by their own creations?

ive been trying to figure out how to tackle this ask for a few days now because theres so much to disentangle, but disentangle i will.

see, this comparison relies on common misinformation and misconceptions about titanic. its a ship thats been romanticised and mythologised for decades, and every portrayal of it from william randolph hearts yellow newspaper coverage to robin gardiners conspiracy theory to jim camerons film.

what im gonna list to disentangle this whole thing is by no means an exhaustive list of titanic misconceptions, only those relevant to this topic

-titanic was a cruise ship - titanic was an ocean liner not a cruise ship (ive detailed the differences in a different ask here)

-titanic was a brand new unique ship never seen before - not true, ocean liners had existed for decades. theres debate about which was the first, but many agree that its the ss great western which launched in 1843. titanic wasnt even the first launched in her class; that honour goes to the rms olympic.

-it was built with substandard materials and cut corners - this is one of those where theres potentially some truth, but its been misrepresented. theres some evidence that the rivets werent the best made, but the board of trade cleared the ship and she was built with the same materials and basically the same design as her sister ship, rms olympic which sailed for 24 years under the nickname "old reliable" and literally rammed a u-boat during ww1 when she was requisitioned as a troop ship. ultimately, the builders were not blamed in the wreck inquiry and the materials used were not substandard.

-it was built as said above due to the choices of j bruce ismay - yeah so this one obviously ties into the above. theres a lot of unreliable sources who seem to believe ismay oversaw the entire design and every cut corner was due to money. this simply isnt true and isnt how this sort of thing worked. white star had a contract with harland and wolff wherein they would build the ship agreed upon and when it was finished, it would be presented to white star and undergo sea trials, and during that time, white star could reject the ship if they considered it substandard. this is what happened to the ss city of rome. unles. the design itself was to be changed a la britannic after titanic sank (improving safety measures), white star could not interfere. ismay could not force them to use different materials.

-it was all ismays fault - okay, i could go on about this for a long time, but this ask isnt about ismay. the gist of it is that history has blamed ismay due to the influence of william randolph hearst (yeah, the guy from newsies and supported hitler) who hated ismay and blamed him entirely. actual evidence shows ismay helped a lot of people during the sinking itself.

-titanic was badly designed - ive kinda gone over this a little already, but again, titanic was not badly built. she was practically identical to olympic which was a fantastic ship. in the design, no risks were taken. most of the designs were enlarged versions of parts of previous successful ships. she was considered the safest ship on the sea. four of her water-tight compartments could be breached without her sinking which was a big fucking deal.

-thomas andrews was the sole designer - there was actually a team of designers that included andrews. he didnt even draw up the original plans; that was alexander carlisle.

-titanic sinking was a unique situation - yeah nah, boats sank a lot around that time. literally two years after, there was a similar disaster with the rms empress of ireland which goes entirely forgotten nowadays. in the same decade, you also had the sinking of lusitania in 1915, principe de asturias in 1916, volturno in 1913 and even thrown in princess sophia in 1918.

-the sinking was actually caused by a coal bunker fire - this is simply horseshit and im sure im gonna end up having to explain and debunk that one too

-the crew were taking unnecessary risks to win the blue riband - this myth is widespread because of the movie, but titanic was not trying to beat the record of the fastest ship from southampton to new york (thats what the blue riband) is; she physically couldnt. it was held by mauretania at that point with a record of 26.06 knots/48.26 km/hr. titanics top speed was 23 knots. white star as a line never focussed on speed and ismay never told the captain to speed up.

-she was "unsinkable" - this is a little harder to disentangle. the claim itself was "practically unsinkable", but the context of that was to do with how safe titanic was as mentioned above. also, the idea of an unsinkable ship was not quite to white star or harland and wolff; most of the shipping industry believed it.

-almost everything youve heard about the life boats - okay so here you need to throw out your preconceptions of what a life boat is because our modern conception does not match that from the early 1900s. to not get into all the details of life boat philosophy at the time (if you do wanna know, just send me an ask lmao), the main purpose of life boats at this time was ferrying passengers to a rescue ship. that was it. this attitude was informed by both the wrecks of the ss valencia and ss clallam, as well as the miraculous rescue of the rms republic. titanic did not have enough life boats for everyone because it was never expected for the passengers to be alone in the life boats for hours; it was not a design flaw, it was a feature.

-that fucking stupid ship swap myth and the idea that the crew were trying to sink the ship - i dont even want to get into why this is bullshit, plus ive also debunked it in another ask

i highlight all of the above to emphasise the fact that titanic was not a badly built ship. she was designed well, built well and sailed well. many experts agree that the way that she hit the iceberg was the only way she could have sank.

this is not the case with titan and stockton rush. in a previous post, ive gone over the design of the titan, the flaws in it and what experts in the field believe, so im not gonna go over it again, but rest assured, the titan imploded because of rush's actions and decisions.

titanic did not sink because of thomas andrews. its due to his design that anyone survived the titanic because she stayed afloat for over two hours which allowed the crew to launch all the life boats. thomas andrews himself helped many survivors during the sinking and evacuation.

he also was not a rich man using a gravesite as tourism; nepotism was certainly involved in his career but he spent ten years working his way up in the company, helping with the design of countless ships. he was mostly regarded as a good man who worked hard and recognised the hard work of others.

its honestly ludicrous to compare them because the disasters themselves are simply not comparable. the titanic did not sink because of the folly of rich men cutting corners; titan did.

thomas andrews, for any faults he had, knew what he was doing and built a good ship that was unlucky. almost every other ship he helped design didnt sink or if they did, most of them were due to ww1.

its just such a ridiculous comparison, and thats all it is. without the misconceptions and misinformation about titanic, the comparison simply falls apart. its built on a foundation that fundamentally misunderstands the titanic disaster.

if you want to talk about shipwrecks caused by stupid decisions made by rich men, go look up the last incarnation of hms captain or the gunilda or the fucking vasa if you want, you can literally go see that one. but dont besmirch the memory of a guy who, by all acounts, died a hero helping other survive.

#anon #kai rambles #long post #its a very fucking long post #titanic #rms titanic #titan #titan sub #oceangate #oceangate expeditions #stockton rush #thomas andrews #white star #harland and wolff #j bruce ismay #william randolph hearst #btw if you ever want clarification on any of the topics i briefly touched on just send me an ask #i can talk about this for days #first time im using coloured text in a post which is Odd #james cameron #shipposting

[polythremed]

wheres the essay op i want whitsun bugs

there might not have been an essay before, but there is now! bugs and inverts are hugely overlooked. however, the victorians loved insects! they were huge inspirations in art, shells were used in fashion, so what would be more vogue than a giant bug for a pet?

(Punch, September 29, 1877)

the bulk of this talk will be under the cut but tl;dr is that arachnids still offer a lot of potential, beetles and moths live in the neath and were popular at the time, and there are a lot of lesser-known bugs that fit fallen london

also cw for bug images because there’s a lot of them beyond here, this is for people with good taste only

firstly: arachnids

FL has a lot of arachnids and this year’s whitsun saw the introduction of a squirrel with a scorpion tail! i think it’s a fun design personally, but arachnid companions are Not obsolete. the most relevant arachnids are crabs, and crabs are more varied than you might think!

(image by abc.net.au)

the yeti crab was the first crab to come to mind, related to hermit crabs and living in hydrothermal vents in the deep ocean. it means we’ve got another underground beast, and could you imagine this as a spired crab? it could be the product of shapeling arts, and the yeti crab’s famously hairy arms have the potential to be used as arm warmers or 1890s uggs for the discerning londoner!

there’s also the japanese giant spider crab, which might be more lanky than it’s neathy angler crab cousins, but look at those legs! how big do you think it is? how about taller than the average person?

you have to understand how badly i want to be this man they also inhabit vents near the bottom of the ocean (the crabs, not this man), they’re omnivores and one specimen’s measured in at 3.8 metres (12ft) across its outstretched legs! it’d probably be a dreaded companion by the sheer size of it, but imagine the walking sticks you could get from those legs

arrowhead crabs and horseshoe crabs are also runners up for this!

mites also came to mind, being small arachnids- the mite above is an adult female tea mite, and not much is known about mites! they’re primitive but have a terrible reputation, and FBG have shone the spotlight on other unloved creatures in the past. there’s also Caveat Emptor which tells us that the bazaar has parasites which are probably like mites? you could have your own romance vampire, surely nothing could go wrong

and if you’ve come here for spiders, how about the pelican spider? with a pelican-like head, pelican spiders prey exclusively on other spiders! isn’t that a fun way to counter sorrow spider infestations? introducing new species is a good thing, right?

higher tiers of this companion could start to own the whole pelican thing. i’ve seen monster designs of spiders with human heads but never a spider with a pelican head!

(image by me)

all he needs is some love and spiders

close arachnid contenders that i want to mention before this whole post is made up of eight-legged companions: camel spiders, harvestmen, and whip scorpions!

secondly: beetles

as john b. s. haldane once said, “god has an inordinate fondness for beetles”. and he’s right because there are more known species of beetle than types of mammal

in fact, the victorians fucking loved beetles (and butterflies but we’ll get to that)

we have phosphorescent scarabs as luminosity items and a few mentions of beetles in airs texts and in sunless sea, the latter where a beetle has been eating through your ship’s supplies. being from england, i have a vague idea of what sort of beetles would end up in london!

there are still stag beetles, rove beetles, and even cardinal beetles, but these by themselves might feel pretty basic. they’d be good t1 companions, but why not have a companion that’s a whole insect keeping setup? there’s even some colourful beauties like the scarlet malachite beetle which are now incredibly endangered

but if you want something Huge and Large and easily convertible into a fashion accessory, hercules beetles have a lot of potential! horns that can be used for knives in dockside brawls, or you could take most of the bug features and place them on a furry animal like a guinea pig since seas already gave us the guinea page

these beetles could also add diversity for the phosphorescent scarabs- and speaking of phosphorescent beetles, why not look to fireflies? they aren’t fire and nor are they flies, but to carry on with FBG’s habit of “slapping animals together to see what happens”, you could easily make something with the features of a firefly larvae

or you could take the even more interesting approach of having a grub the size of a cat, for example. hercules beetles have some of the largest larvae and the feast of the rose gave us maggots, so why not have one of these babies but the size of a cat? and glowing? they’re a possible light source that might make you more bizarre or respectable

a close runner up that i wanted to mention was diving beetles and how freaky they can get if they’ve adapted to the zee but the sabretooth longhorn beetle is going to close this segment as an embodiment of a dangerous and respectable companion- it already looks like it’s been carved out of wood! i think a carved polythreme beetle would be incredible

(see also: bombardier beetles, weevils, oil beetles, tiger beetles, harlequin beetles, trilobite beetles, and giraffe weevils!)

moths, and less commonly found underground, butterflies

another love of the victorians: butterflies!

butterflies are basically moths by a different name (there are way more moths than butterflies) and we do have canon dreams where a frostmoth the size of your head appears in your window, and wouldn’t that be useful for hunting in parabola? much like the beetles, there’s a lot of diversity that can be explored especially if we add shapeling arts

white plume moths are also found in the UK and just look at those wings

we can have a usual approach of adding the wings to something else, like a particularly unlucky bat, or just have something bizarre with the moth itself! more eyes? more eyes has been a common theme lately, or you can combine an insect with an arachnid and give it whip scorpion hands

these wings would be one hell of a decoration because white plume moths are considered to be micromoths

on the other end of the spectrum and taking the role of a respectable companion, the white witch moth is considered to be one of the largest insects on earth because of its wingspan! maybe they’re a more risky cousin of the frostmoth, maybe you could turn the markings on these wings into shifting sigils? don’t set your moths on fire

(image by Acrocynus)

white witch moths themselves have a lot of diversity while cup moths are another contender for an animal you could combine with another animal

(image by itchydogimages)

why not add the tail of a squirrel to this one? or a scorpion’s tail? a lion? with enough of these, you could end up with a very striking tawny coat. this thing is the embodiment of being neathproofed. even if they’re opposites of frostmoths and are associated with embers because of it, or if the tail is closer to being a candle!

moths are also good at mimicking in order to defend themselves, which is why you see so many moths and butterflies with eye patterns on their wings. birds hate eyes so much so there’s room for some real eyes on your brand new butterfly or moth companion

but some moths also mimic snakes, so for any fingerking fans out there: behold the atlas moth

this is such a mithridacy companion. can you imagine the t3 version of this where the snake heads are alive? we have a two-headed terror bird, so why not snakes on a moth? there’s even jokes to be made about one head telling truths and another telling lies, maybe the only head that could tell you the difference is the moths!

for butterflies themselves, we have butterflies that drink the tears of alligators and tortoises- so melancholy butterflies that only appear to feed on lacre? (and they might not be butterflies down here, you might’ve already mistaken a day-flying moth for a butterfly, not that the difference matters for much in the neath)

another strong mention is vampire moths if we’re carrying on the theme of insects drinking odd things, but a vampire moth with bat wings could be wonderful at ruining the lives of taxonomists

luna moths are also massive and could be more fitting now that we know who the creditor is, and that whitsun is talking so much about the bazaar and the masters

other lesser-known but interesting insects

we don’t entirely need to cover bees and wasps but it would be nice to have a piece of media showing wasps in a way that doesn’t present them as evil, but wasps could wait until hell is really significant again since wasps and bees are incredibly cool cousins. and thread waisted wasps!

(image by Bev Wigney)

get a load of that! these don’t even have the ability to sting humans, what would a thread waisted wasp-themed spindlewolf look like? how much shadowy with something with these colours give you? imagine the corsets inspired by these things

assassin bugs are another dangerous option considering how good they are at hunting other insects, and the neath wouldn’t be complete without more creatures that burrow underground and can find themselves in this weird cavern

(image by Fir0002)

their forearms are specifically developed to dig! perhaps they can dig through a rival’s belongings, or perhaps you can fashion their claws into brass knuckles or a belt buckle?

(image by faraaz abdool)

another fashionable, lesser-known invert is the velvet worm! we have plenty of slugs in fallen london, but you know what they’re lacking? legs

about 200 species of velvet worms have been described and they’re already quite rare! they all fall under the onychophora name and there isn’t anything else like them. you could easily have some persuasive with this, or if you turn it into a stole that can hold however many hands you want!

(image by docj96)

also, thrips! i found out about these today and apparently you’re likely to hear about them if you’re into gardening. sometimes they have crab claws for forelegs, so hey- more bazaar similarities! they have an interesting method of flight (clapping their wings together) but this might not bee too impactful unless you want a novel way to raise your investigating

flies are also criminally underrated, but i couldn’t tell you how many flies live in fallen london. stalk-eyed flies, however, are gorgeous things that would work so well as t2 companions! you could even go all out with a horsefly taking on attributes of an actual horse

(image by minden pictures)

the stalk eyed fly sees you five minutes before you can see it

there are genuinely so many more that come to mind (even neathy types of mantis- orchid mantids that have adapted to blend in with mushrooms! imagine!) but a good way to finish this off is with a love story

there are centipedes who will guard and hold their young close to them! giant centipedes are protective mothers and you can get hundreds of companions in one- or perhaps just one companion who really misses her hundreds of kids. and they hold their eggs just as carefully whilst waiting for them to hatch!

isn’t that a good love story? there’s a lot you can combine this with, but i’ve spent most of today writing this one! do with these creatures what you will, i definitely enjoyed talking about neathy possibilities for insects!

(bogleech also has a fantastic article on insects that should be used as the basis for pokemon designs, if you want even more out there bugs be sure to look here)

#memento of a post #asks #snippity #whitsun #insects #fallen london #bugs #spiders #im not tagging all of these but ohh my god this was so fun to write about #thank you for the ask!

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 6

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: well... here it is lol 2(or 3?) weeks late. sorry for the wait, this chapter was just a bitch to write and every time i thought i was done, i wasn’t happy with it & i didn’t wanna post just for the sake of posting. but i stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish this, so technically it is sunday so im posting on schedule lol

im not sure how many parts are left to this story, maybe two or three + an epilogue but i haven’t decided yet. 

also, this gif made me feel things 😂

word count: 2.1k (i wish they were longer too but im doing the best i can😩)

warnings: none other than a couple swear words

Part 6

29 weeks

“What are you doing?”

“Researching how to murder someone and get away with it.” You mutter, typing where to buy a tiger in Google.

Becca gives you a wary look and sits next to you. “Everything okay?”

“No!” You groan in frustration, tossing your phone on the coffee table. “Matthew is driving me insane.”

She frowns. “Is he being an ass?”

“He’s being nice. Too nice.” You grumble, ignoring when Becca chuckles. “It’s like he’s trying to make up for missing the doctor’s appointment even though I told him I forgive him.”

Becca raises an eyebrow at you and you try to ignore her pointed look. “Do you though?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask defensively.

“You’re different around him now and I’m sure he’s noticed. It’s like you don’t trust him.”

You start to deny her accusation but stop to think about it. Were you more cautious around Matt lately? You certainly didn’t let yourself depend on him for things that you had been before, too afraid that he would let you down. You wanted to, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you that he’s let you down before and there’s always a chance he will again.

It’s as if Becca can read your mind because she shrugs. “You should be honest with him.”

However, something you’ve learned recently is that too much honestly can get you in trouble.

. . .

Sending Matt a text that said we need to talk, probably wasn’t the best approach because it took him approximately fifteen minutes to show up at your apartment and his is a half hour drive away from yours.

So his windblown hair and wide eyes really weren’t a surprise when you opened your front door.

“So, I think I should have worded that text a little better.”

“You think?” He huffs, walking past you when you step aside. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes or jacket off, walking straight to the living room and turning to look at you.

“I’m sorry. For whatever I did.” He says and you groan.

“That’s the problem! Stop being sorry for things. It’s driving me nuts.”

He frowns and looks at you in confusion. “So… you don’t want me to be sorry for things?”

“I don’t want you to not be sorry for things, I just want you to stop being sorry for everything. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”

“I’m just trying to make-”

“Make up for missing the appointment.” you say, finishing his sentence. “I know.” your hand falls to your stomach and you sigh. “We’re going to be parents in less than three months. We need to start trusting each other.”

Matt slowly walks over to you and reaches out for your hand which you let him hold. His thumb rubs across the back of it and he nods.

“You’re right.”

You grin and lightly punch his shoulder with your free hand. “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”

He smiles, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You ignore the way it makes your heart race because the last thing you need right now is your feelings for him to get even more confusing when you’re both finally on the same page.

Things are good now and you can’t risk messing it up.

. . .

31 weeks

He’s like a kid in a candy store, you’ve realized as you follow Matt around buy buy BABY. He has two carts, one already stocked full of things and the other slowly being filled. You stopped keeping count of how much everything costed an hour ago because the number started to make you queasy.

“He has enough clothes, Matty.” You whine, taking note of how Matt trips over his feet when you call him by that nickname. “and he’ll grow out of them before he even gets a chance to wear them.”

“Last one, I swear.” He says, holding up an outfit. “C’mon, how fucking cute is he going to look in this?”

“If his first word is a swear word, I’m going to kill you.” You mutter, taking the outfit from him and tossing it in the cart. Matt just grins and rests a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby will kick.

“How’s Joey?”

“Grayson is doing just fine.”

“We’re never going to come to an agreement on a name, are we?” he asks and you smile sweetly.

“Nope.”

He laughs and starts walking towards the checkouts.

“Did my mom tell you that they’re coming to visit?” He asks and you nod, recalling your conversation with Chantal. She’d called you first to make sure you were okay with the entire Tkachuk clan showing up. She knows how stressful pregnancy is and didn’t want to overwhelm you.

But you were ecstatic when she asked if it was okay for them to visit. You’ve grown to depend on her for any pregnancy questions over the past seven months and even when you needed some regular advice for everyday things, you sometimes texted her.

“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”

Matt nods, smiling politely at the cashier as he starts loading every thing on the conveyor belt. You can tell that she’s a hockey fan by the way her eyes light up when she recognizes who he is.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you can pick them up from the airport?” He asks, catching you off guard. “Their plane lands around noon and I won’t be back until later that night and I don’t really want them to have to take a cab.”

You’re a little surprised that he’s asking you to do this instead of paying someone or asking a close friend to do it instead. It’s an odd feeling, realizing that he trusts you with his family.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You tell him and his smile warms you to the bone.

. . .

You show up to the airport forty-five minutes early because you can’t decide if you should wait in the SUV for Matt’s family, or meet them in the airport. Would it be weird to wait for them inside like you would with your own friends or family? You double check your phone to make sure that Matt did tell them it was you picking them up because how weird would it be if they were expecting him only to find you waiting.

You’re definitely over thinking it but you find yourself standing at the gates when their plane lands.

Chantal is the first person you see and her face lights up and she scurries over to you, pulling you in for a soft hug.

“Oh, look at you!” She gushes, taking your hands in hers and holding you at arms length. “You’re glowing.”

Glowing isn’t exactly the word you would use because as much as you tried to look nice to pick them up, you’re still seven months pregnant, sweating because of the jacket you have on and most definitely are wearing odd shoes because you can no longer see your feet and Matt wasn’t here to check for you.

But you blush nonetheless, letting Keith, Taryn, and Brady hug you before starting to walk to baggage claim.

“Thank you for picking us up.” Chantal says and you smile.

“It’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off. “You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Anything I can do to help. I know how hard it is being pregnant with your man travelling a lot.”

You want to correct her when she calls Matt your man, but you don’t want to be impolite so you just nod.

“Speaking of your man,” Brady says in a teasing voice, “what time does he get in, again?”

“Around 8.” You say, ignoring the teasing tone and changing the subject to ask Taryn how school is going. You know you’ll hear more comments about the nature of your relationship with Matt from his brother but for now, you chat with Taryn and Chantal about plans for the baby.

. . .

Matt gave you a key to his apartment when you both realized that you spent more time at his these days then you did at your own so you don’t miss the knowing looks Chantal and Keith share when you use your key to unlock Matt’s apartment. You know they can tell it’s your key and not Matt’s because he painted it your favourite colour when he gave it to you.

“So do we get a sneak peak of the nursery?” Taryn asks hopefully and you nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Matt turned one of the guest rooms in to the nursery in his apartment. You haven’t done anything with yours yet because you and Matt were starting to wonder if after the baby is born, at least for a little while, the two of you should just live together. It would certainly make things much easier.

“It’s beautiful.” Chantal says, and you can see her eyes watering a little.

“We’re going to put up letters spelling his name above the crib.”

“Oh yeah, have you guys decided on a name yet?” Keith asks, testing the sturdiness of the crib by wiggling it a little.

“No.” You mutter. “We can’t agree on anything.”

“You’ll find something you both love eventually.” Chantal reassures you. “Now, please tell me my son has food in his fridge, because I’m going to cook dinner.”

You grin, realizing that she too knows how bad Matt is at keeping his fridge stocked. Before you started spending so much time here, you would be lucky if he had eggs in the fridge.

. . .

Matt arrives home just as dinner is cooked and you get to witness what a typical Tkachuk night must look like. There’s lots of chirps thrown but you can tell how close this family is and how much they care about each other. Especially when it comes to Matt and his mom and sister. He treats them like gold and it warms your heart to see it.

After dinner, you volunteer to clean up and you’re surprised when Keith offers to help. You’ve only spoken to him a few times before today and you don’t feel as close to him as you do with Chantal so it’s quiet while the two of you clear up the dishes.

Keith breaks the silence after a couple minutes, turning to look at you.

“I know Matthew can be a handful… but don’t give up on him, okay?”

You’re surprised to hear this coming from Keith because you were truthfully expecting Taryn or Brady to say something about it. Every time you and Matthew touched or spoke to each other, you noticed the knowing looks and soft smiles from the other Tkachuk family members.

It was like they knew something that neither you nor Matthew did.

You’re not sure what exactly to say so you just nod.

“I won’t.” You promise, realizing that you truly mean it.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton #allies writing

[oswald-privileges]

Loudmouth

(I wrote some statement fic. It’s been a heck of a while since I wrote anything for fandom.)

Statement of Ulla Ness, regarding, um... a peculiar transformation. Original statement given March 14th, 1999. Audio recording by Christopher Peake, in an… unprofessional capacity. Statement begins.

I still don’t see why I had to come to you. I know you have an email address, so wouldn’t it have been easier to just scan the form and send it to me? Hell, I would have taken a physical copy sent to me in the post. It would have been slower, but it would have meant I could have stayed at home. But no. I asked, and you just gave me a lot of waffle about how you have ‘strict acquisition policies’, alongside directions that had been copied from google maps. Which I know, because I checked.

It’s not that I’m lazy, you understand, far from it. I used to have what I regarded as quite the active social life. But recently that’s become impossible for me to maintain, for a number of reasons. Which are also the reasons that I’ve come to talk to you.

I used to be quite a religious person. Still am, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure. I was a member of the congregation of Saint Mary’s, a small anglican church in a small, anglican village up in Lincolnshire. Not everybody there was particularly devout, but it wasn’t one of those places where it especially mattered. It was more about the sense of community we had. Catching up with each other after communion on Thursdays, singing in the choir, arranging cake sales or coffee mornings as fundraisers for whatever bit of the building had fallen off now. I’ve been attending since I was little, and more or less grew up with the congregation.

I miss it quite badly, if I’m being honest. I’ve always been the sort to need other people, but I didn’t realise quite how much losing them would affect me. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and all that, I suppose.

It started with another fundraiser, a jumble sale this time. I had volunteered to help manage the event, so I was in charge of sorting through the items that people had brought in for us to sell. Like I said, not everyone there was strictly devout, and didn’t always take care with what they decided to donate. Some people seemed to use it as more of an excuse to toss legitimate junk in our direction and call it a good deed.

This was definitely the case with Mister Ashley. He attended purely because his mother was too old to walk by herself, and I rather think that she insisted that he stay with her throughout the service. It was definitely at her behest that he took part in any communal activities. She would always announce that he would be happy to run stalls or make tea or some other menial duty, while he sat by her side, stony-faced, and saying nothing at all.

The only time I remember him giving any sort of reaction was when when his mother announced that her Jamie would be happy to donate some of his shop’s excess stock for the jumble sale. I remember, he turned to her with the strangest look on his face. At the time, I thought it was one of badly suppressed outrage. I assumed that she had simply gone a bit too far in volunteering his services; Mister Ashley was a second hand book seller, and owned the Jabberwock Bookshop just off from Memorial Square. It can’t have been all that easy to turn a profit. Thinking back on it now, though, and I wonder if his expression was something sharper than just anger. If it could have been alarmed, almost panicked. But I believe that is likely be nothing more than hindsight colouring my memories. If he had had some way of knowing, had been frightened of something like that which came to pass, then… well. I cannot honestly say I ever truly liked James Ashley, but neither can I believe that he would be as cruel or as cowardly as to not have said or done anything.

As it was, he brought the books to the side room the next day, where I was going through the donations and sorting the sellable items from those things too broken, torn, stained, or just plain unusable. I had just set aside yet another jigsaw- this one with almost two thirds of the pieces obviously missing- when he knocked on the outer door. In spite of the heavy rain, he wasn’t wearing a coat, hat, or boots. He didn’t say a word to me when I opened it, just shouldered his way in, dropped a heavy cardboard box on the floor by the unsorted donations, and walked out again. He did this three more times, leaving the door swinging behind him, letting in strong gusts of wind and rain, and reinscribing a damp trail of rainwater on the carpeted floor. Then he was gone as abruptly as he had arrived.

Ashley had taken better care to protect the books from the rain than himself. The cardboard was soaked through, but the books inside had been wrapped in several layers of plastic sheeting. They were stacked upright, and had been fitted in without any attempt to force too many into a single space. They were all, without exception, worn, faded, and almost completely without interest. Paperback romances long since out of print, old text books, children’s encyclopedias. It was rather a relief, if I’m honest. I could just reach into the boxes, grab a book, give it a flick through, and place it on the “for sale” pile.

I was about halfway through the last box when my fingers brushed something that did not feel at all like paper. It was dense and yielding, and ever so slightly damp. I recoiled, shock and disgust crawling their prickling way up my arm. My fingers looked clean, but the ghost feeling of something sticky still clung to them.

My first thought that it was some nasty practical joke. That Ashley, stung by his mother’s willingness to give away his stock, had put something disgusting in there by way of relieving his feelings. But that would have been ridiculous- he was a grown man, for goodness sakes, not a slighted child. It was more likely that the plastic keeping the books wrapped up had slipped, and allowed the rain to seep in through the sides. That was the more likely explanation.

It seemed as though I was right when I looked into the box properly, and saw nothing there but more books. But when I reached in again, all I felt was rough, dry paper. Confused, I went through the contents more slowly, looking where I placed my hand and at the books I chose.

I didn’t feel it again until the fifth book I picked up, that same almost-damp feeling. It was broad and set in landscape, almost like a sketchbook. It was dense with pages all jammed together- dense and heavy. It flopped bonelessly in my hand, and I needed to support it from underneath before I could read the title.

Hymnal, it read. The gold letters gleamed wetly on the slick cover.

It appeared to be full of sheet music. No titles or lyrics, just scratched staves and notes that meandered up and down the lines as though drunk. The smell that rose from the pages as I turned them was odd and unpleasant. I wondered if the leather binding them hadn’t been properly cured. Those areas of page that weren’t covered in music were full of sketches, but so dense and overlapping that I couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. And, I realised with an unpleasant start, the cover beneath my hands was warm, as though I was touching a live thing.

Suddenly, I’d had enough. I was sitting here, working myself up over an old, graffitied book for no good reason. I shut the thing hurriedly, and it snapped closed with a heavy slithering of pages. I caught the soft part of my forefinger on one of them, and a tiny bead of scarlet began to well from the wound. The stinging was welcome- it gave me something to focus on, mundane annoyance drowning out the confusion that had been threatening to become fear.

I dropped the book onto the discard pile. I couldn’t sell something like that, that much was obvious. Then I picked it up again, and dashed through the rain to the rubbish bins outside. I tossed it in, and followed it up with as much of the discard pile as I could bag up in one go, burying the thing underneath threadbare scarves, broken plastic dolls, and half used art supplies.

I felt a little better when it was done, but not much. Whatever those hymns were praising, I don’t think it was Our Lord.

The cut on my finger didn’t heal like it should. It stopped bleeding without any trouble, but the edges became raised, reddened and sensitive to the touch. I dabbed at it with antiseptic and did my best to put it out of my mind. I succeeded at first. I had plenty to keep me busy, both at church and at my workplace, and for a day or two, I completely forgot about it.

At least until it opened up again.

I don’t remember what caused it, or if anything caused it at all. Just that I was reaching for something, and there was the feeling of… unpeeling, almost, the cold feeling of fresh air on wet skin. I checked to see if the cut was bleeding again.

Instead of a cut, I found myself looking at a tiny, fully formed mouth.

The raised, reddened edges I had thought were a sign of infection had become minute lips. They were slightly parted, and behind them I could see the tiniest slivers of white. And behind that, a dark space where something wet shifted.

I didn’t look at it for long. Already I was reaching for the first aid kit, hastily covering the cut- the mouth- with a plaster. I was already convincing myself that what I’d just seen was some kind of infection I was too squeamish to look at, and that since I couldn’t feel any pain, I should probably go to the doctors, in case it was nerve damage or something. The impression of having seen a mouth rather than a cut was an unpleasant trick my mind had played on me, and one I didn’t feel like closely examining. I told myself I had imagined it.

I hadn’t, though. I could taste the soft fabric patch on the plaster.

I really did mean to go to the doctors. Mouth or no mouth, whatever was happening to the cut on my finger worried me. I even got as far as making an appointment. But the next day I went into work, and there was an accident involving a slippery patch of floor and a very, very sharp knife that I was carrying at the time. I ended up with a nasty slice parallel with the underside of my ribcage.

This time, it was obvious how quickly it stopped bleeding, how it was practically dry before I even changed the gauze once. How the scabs began to flake before I even touched them, leaving nothing but those raised, reddening edges around the cut itself.

I didn’t go to that doctor’s appointment. I don’t think it would have helped me if I had.

It took longer for the second cut to open, but when it did, I could stand in front of the mirror to properly see the flat, white, human teeth, and the tongue that moved behind them.

It didn’t feel alien. That’s what surprised me most. I was scared, of course I was scared, I was growing new bits, opening up in places that I shouldn’t- but that was just it. It was my body doing this, not some… weird infection or surgery. Whatever was happening, it felt like an extension of myself.

I could move them, I found. Not as consciously as I could my original mouth, the one in its proper position on my face, but sort of like moving a limb after it’s fallen asleep. It took concentration, like I was working through partial numbness. Like I needed to focus to wake them up.

I didn’t spend very long doing that, though. I would realise with a start that what I was doing wasn’t normal, it wasn’t sane. I would pull my shirt back down or re-plaster my finger with a feeling almost like shame. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been, and that in itself was somehow a lot more frightening.

I’m not clumsy. I can’t be, considering the sharp tools I have to handle at work. But I started to accumulate injuries. Innocuous things at first. Paper cuts from the prayer books during mass, scrapes from the edges of the metal benches at work. And then other things. Pushing down a door-handle would lay my palm open as though I’d been struck with a metal ruler. The pressure of my jacket across my shoulders would tear the skin. I woke in bed one morning to discover that the folded sheets around me had left cuts going from my hip to my collar bone.

Every single one of them bled, reddened, and opened.

The mouths started to become restless as their number grew. They tried to chew on the clothes I wore to cover them, and if I didn’t focus, they would let out soft, but audible moans or sighs. I tried to quiet them. I even tried feeding them, though I only did that once. It seemed to help, but the mangled sensation of swallowing with a throat that seemed to be lodged under my right kidney was so disorienting I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.

I hadn’t stopped going out altogether. I left the house less, certainly, but as uncertain and uncomfortable as my changing existence was, I didn’t want to give up the company of other people altogether. I get lonely easily.

So, one Friday, when when there was so little skin left under my clothes and gloves that no new mouths could easily form, I patched my face and neck with gauze, and went to take my place in the choir again.

Nobody really seemed to notice anything different about me. I had all the right stories lined up for when I was asked about what had happened to my face, but almost nobody did. A few condolences, a few jokes, and that was it. People apparently preferred to gossip about the death of Mrs Ashley, and how her James had stopped coming to church now, and how they had known his heart wasn’t in it all along.

It felt awful. There I was, standing in the middle of them, skin to skin almost, with the most fragile disguise imaginable hiding a secret that would ruin their perception of the world for good- and they were too wrapped up in their own smug assurance of their own piety to notice. I offered up a brief prayer for patience, but like all my prayers lately, I don’t think I was offering it to the God whose praises we’d all gathered to sing.

And when we raised our voices together for All Things Bright And Beautiful, and I opened my mouth to join in, and then opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again- I wasn’t singing praises to that God either.

I didn’t realise that the others had stopped at first. It wasn’t until I glanced to one side, and saw Julie Wright staring at me with her powerless mouth open and unmoving, that I realised I was singing in harmony with myself.

I broke off, suddenly embarrassed and frightened by the way that they were all looking at me. There was something like awe in their expressions, but there was something else there too. Something that shuddered and recoiled. I desperately tried to remember the words I’d been singing, if I had gotten them right. I had the horrible sense that I might have subverted something holy.

Adam Bromley was the one to break the silence.

“Well now. You never told us you were getting private training!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The unexpressed disgust sank back beneath their faces, and the others took up the idea almost with relief. A beautiful voice, they told me, what trick did they teach me to make it resonate like that? I forced a smile and said something non-committal and when we took up the tune again, I was careful to sing only the words that were on the page in front of me.

My own relief was short-lived. When I got home, I found the skin I had left was being pulled apart by the restless movements of the mouths. Blood stained the underside of my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the moans and hissings any more than I could have controlled a spasm or a muscular tic.

I didn’t sleep that night, and called in sick to work the next day. I lay on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to move.

It wasn’t any use. My skin had become so fragile that even getting up and walking to the kitchen caused it to split, the blood barely having time to dry before the wound began to twitch and whisper. All my fascination was gone now, as were all my attempts to ignore what was happening. All I did was lie on the bed, and let myself slowly drown in my own body. I lived like that for a week.

When next Friday evening came, my entire body burst into song.

I writhed and moaned and hummed without will, without choice, throwing out snatches of hymn before discarding them as not what I wanted, not right. And for the first time, the indistinct murmurs and whispers grew louder, began to form words. Prayers that had been chewed out of shape, pleas for more, more mouths, more brothers and sisters, to come out of hiding and join the great curdling of flesh.

This went on for the entire night.

That was when I decided that I needed to do something. I’d let… whatever this was go on for too long, long beyond the point of saving myself. But I wanted to tell someone first. So I dragged myself to my computer, and searched as best I could. It’s difficult to type with only a confusion of tongues.

And that’s where you came in. You aren’t special. You were just the closest place that didn’t either ignore my emails, or reply with not so gentle suggestions that I see a psychologist.

I don’t think I’ll be leaving my home again, once I get back. I doubt I’ll even bother uncovering, although there’s no-one there to see me. For all that I wanted to let someone know, I don’t want to be seen.

The cupboard below the stairs locks from the inside. I can push the key out from underneath the crack in the door.

Whatever is happening to me, I won’t allow it come to fruition.

Post-statement follow-up: There wasn’t anyone under the stairs when I went to check. The lock on cupboard door was broken, and so was the one on the back door. Either Ms Ness was, um… successful in her attempts to… halt her transformation, and a housebreaker with some seriously questionable motives took what was- what was left of her. Or she wasn’t. And her resolve either waned or the situation was, um. Taken out of her hands. Or. Whatever she had instead of hands.

I wasn’t… going to record this. It’s not my job, strictly speaking, but I was reading some of the old statements, and this one just… sort of caught my eye. And I’ve seen the Archivist and some of the others do recordings, and it just looked so… I wanted to try it out. I’ll be taking the tape with me, though. None of the others need to know about this.

#The Magnus Archives #tma #the magnus institute #whoops its all OCs

[moggieblanket-blog]

Advice on Handling Nonverbal Episodes

As I mentioned in a previous post, I frequently become nonverbal under stress, when overwhelmed, after a meltdown or during a shutdown.  Those of you who experience similar challenges know that these episodes often occur at extremely inconvenient times, such as at work, while out shopping, or while trying to talk to professionals such as doctors.  I wanted to offer advice on how to handle such instances based on my own experiences.

1. Make a Card

I have a card in my wallet, behind my ID, that says, “I Have Autism”, it lists the primary communication, social, behavioural and sensory challenges associated with an autism diagnosis, and when unfolded, has a number of solutions for how to help and support me.  This one is primarily for first responders, so they know how to interact with me during a crisis.

I also have a keychain of cards that I made myself.  The top one explains that I am autistic and currently nonverbal, and the subsequent cards all have simple common phrases on them that I can pull out and show to people as needed.  These phrases include; “I can’t talk right now”; “My emergency contact information is behind my ID”; “I’m struggling to understand, I may need you to repeat things”; “I’m sorry”; “Thank you”; “Please”; “I’m feeling anxious”; “I’m feeling scared”; “I’m feeling angry”; “I’m feeling overwhelmed”; “It’s too loud”; “I need help”; “I need a break”; “I need to leave”; “I need to go home”; “I need to be left alone”; “Could you please come with me?”; “Could you please stay with me?”; “I need my headphones”; “I need my tablet”; “I need my weighted blanket”; “I need deep pressure”; and “Please don’t touch me”.  I have used them many times after meltdowns, and keep them clipped to my belt loop at all times.  They make for a faster, more efficient way of communicating simple things than writing things down.

2. Use Technology

I am fortunate that I was able to buy a tablet to use for many of my autistic needs, not just speech.  For those who can afford it, it is an excellent solution to the problem of going nonverbal, because there are a great many highly effective text to speech apps that translate your writing into spoken words.  The app I use is called Coughdrop, and is available on both apple and android.  The first year of use is free, after that, it costs $200 to buy.  I know people tend to be entrenched in their loyalty for apple or android, but I personally chose the iPad specifically because its range of apps for autism is far greater than those offered by android’s Google play store.  It can feel odd communicating through a robotic voice to start with, so you may want to find a friend you trust and try it out on them first.

3. Go Old School

For many people, technology like smart phones and tablets are financially implausible, but this doesn’t mean that you don’t have communication options available to you.  Before acquiring my iPad, I used a Boogie Board Jot, which is essentially an electronic whiteboard with an LCD surface; it comes with its own stylus and you can write on it, then erase what you wrote with the touch of a button.  It is extremely light weight and portable, and comes in a variety of sizes to fit your needs.  I got mine at Barnes and Noble for maybe $20.  

For those looking to go even cheaper than that, mini whiteboards are available in most department stores for $5-10, and they have the added benefit of various marker colours, so you can make your communication that much more artistic and personal.

4. Sign Language

Personally, I am not fluent in sign language, but it is a goal of mine to take a university course to become so.  I know a few useful signs, such as “thank you”, “sorry”, “more”, “hurt”, “tired”, etc.  As nice as it seems to have the ease of fluent speech at your fingertips, it is important to note that sign is actually the least effective of the communication strategies I’ve discussed so far, generally speaking, because so few other people understand it.  Depending on their disposition, you may be able to teach friends and family some of the important signs, so they get the gist of what you’re trying to say, but trying to communicate with someone who doesn’t understand you is very frustrating, and may escalate whatever negative emotions caused you to go nonverbal in the first place.

Overall, we are very fortunate to live in a time where there are so many solutions to the problems faced by those who struggle to speak.  The next step is to make the general population understand that these nontraditional communication methods are just as important and valid as verbal speech, and that there is nothing wrong or damaged about those who use them.

[fighterfortheforgotten]

PINOF Through the Ages

ah, November, that special time of year between halloween and christmas where i can buy “fun sized” (read “thumb sized”) chocolate bars and tinsel in the same aisle at walmart…

it’s also that time of year where members of the phandom, young and old, come together and collectively binge watch all the PINOF videos in preparation for the newest installment, as we wait with bated breath for what fresh hell we’re gonna be hit with this year.

today, i would like to share with you my observations of PINOF Through The Years, as we embark on the fucking trip that is sure to be PINOF 9…

Phil is not on fire (25 October 2009)

- can you IMAGINE what the hell Phil’s parents and/or brother must’ve thought when they were filming that/saw it for the first time?! Phil brings home this random kid he found in a train station and they start giggling like actual 12 year olds and wandering round the house talking about The Shining, using the exercise equipment Phil has probably never stepped foot on in his life, and drawing on their faces in sharpie? i can fucking HEAR Kath saying “Phil…honey…are you on the drugs?” and Martyn cackling like a lunatic in the background at his brother and his weird friend….

- Dan is trying so. damn. hard. not to laugh throughout the entire video.

- Speaking of Dan, even back then he was a sassy, cocky lil shit… “every animal makes that noise with you…” “wow Phil, i bet they’re all so glad they can see the diagram…” “no, okay, Phil has really crappy GHDs that don’t even work…they don’t even work…they are Poundland GHDs.”

- everyone always talks about The Tackle™ at the end of the video, but not NEARLY enough people talk about the lil smirk Phil gives the camera just before it…like, seriously?! that’s a “haha, here goes nothing!” kinda smirk. thats a “lol watch this!” kinda smirk. thats a “give the people what they want” kinda smirk…im just sayin’…

Phil is not on fire 2 (29 May 2010)

- okay, first of all, Dan…sweetheart…did you borrow that cardigan from your mum?

- Dan: “if you could choose which surname you had, what would be your decision?” Phil: “…umm…” *almost imperceptible but still definitely there jumpcut* Phil: “Striker!”….yeah, yeah, yeah, alright, everyone knows that Phil really said “yours” in an incredibly sheepish and embarrassed voice to Dan that made him go “awwww!….you’re cutting that out…”, but lets appreciate the editing skills it took to make the cut so completely (almost) seamless….

- oh. my. GOD! there is an ENTIRE post JUST about the microwave moment, but i have to reiterate it again for those who have recently entered this hellscape: imagine you are Phil Lester, a 23 year old adult with an ENGLISH LANGUAGE DEGREE, and in comes this adorable 18 year old twink trying to tell you that “microwave” is a fucking onomatopoeia! if i was Phil, THIS would be the moment i’d never let Dan live down. fuck “hello internet”, if he ever pissed me off i’d just be like “yeah, well, at least i know microwave isn’t a fucking onomatopoeia…” and walk away. argument done, you win every time.

- and that being said, again, lets appreciate how much we can learn from the facial expressions of Philip Michael Lester. in that moment, the look he gives Dan is pure “are you fucking serious…?” it is incredulity in a nutshell. it is shock and fondness and “oh my god you are such a twat…”. if there were a dictionary of facial expressions, Phil’s face at the moment Dan says fucking microwave is his favourite onomatopoeia would be the one next to the definition of “wtf?”

Phil is not on fire 3 (1 November 2011)

- 2011 was, by far, the WORST year for Dan and Phil’s hair. tragic. absolutely tragic…

- wow, Dan was right, every animal DOES make the same noise to Phil, including horrific genetic hybrids of land and sea mammals…

- Dan’s ability to almost unhinge his jaw is terrifying…and i’m sure has played a part in lots of phanfic that i’m definitely not going to look for ever…

- okay, seriously guys?! the word is vagina. say it with me: vagina. come on! all together now! it’s not a *awkward silence and weird hand gesture*, it’s not a “birth area", it’s just a vagina…for someone who knows so much about placenta, it strikes me as odd that Dan can’t say the word vagina out loud…

- i’ve never heard anyone giggle as much as Dan does in this video…

Phil is not on fire 4 (12 September 2012)

- the hair is better this year…slightly…

- whoever decided that those face mask things were a good idea needs to be buried alive…the way they look when they move is so horrifying, it gives me nightmares.

- the “gu-hoy!” noise Dan makes in this video (ts 3:21 if you’re at all interested) is my text alert on my phone and it makes me panic every time i watch it because im like “wtf is someone texting me for at 11:53 pm?!” but then i realize it’s just the video and that i’m actually still very alone and have no friends…

- (bloopers bonus!) petition to have 2012 be known in the phandom as, ‘The Year Dan Was Finally Comfortable With The Word Vagina’. that’s all it was guys! he learned a new word and just wanted to show how broad his vocabulary had become!

Phil is not on fire 5 (22 November 2013)

- and right off the bat we’re affronted again by the fact that Dan and Phil have zero concept of how female anatomy works….

- this is probably the most uneventful pinof in the entire series.

Phil is not on fire 6 (6 November 2014)

- to return to the hair discourse, i firmly maintain that 2014 was the best year for their haircuts/styles.

- Phil has no concept of what a sassy face is…

- #StopPhil201X needs to just be a recurring thing every year…

- that poor, poor snake…

- petition for Dan to sing the national anthem at every tour stop in 2018

- the idea of Dan trying to carry on the legacy of Phil Is Not On Fire after Phil’s death is so damn heartbreaking to me…i need a minute

- my lil demon soul is convinced that Phil was doing *something* to Dan’s neck when they both tried to fit through that sweater…i mean, look at his face when he laughs and says “stop". seriously?!

- something about Dan with his fringe swapped, on the wrong side of the bed, and wearing Phil’s shirt makes me feel almost uncomfortable, but in a way that i’m not entirely sure how to process…

- (bloopers bonus!) to reiterate! every animal does, in fact, make the same noise to Phil. this has now been confirmed 3 times.

- (bloopers bonus!) the amount of pleasure Phil is able to derive from any mention of Hello Internet warms the deepest recesses of my soul like the light of the sun after a 1000 year winter.

Phil is not on fire 7 (29 November 2015)

- uh, excuse me? do not drag my country in such a way. Canada is indeed real. it’s where maple syrup comes from. as someone who enjoys the simplicity of a good pancake, i expected better from you Mr. Philip.

- i feel so bad for their neighbours during the stress mushroom tug of war…like, can you imagine what those poor people must’ve thought of them? i’d love to interview their neighbours one day…better yet, their neighbours should write a book: “I Lived Next To YouTubers For 5 Years: The Adventure" and just have it be a chronicle of every weird thing they ever witnessed/encountered.

- with every passing year, Dan’s knowledge of fanfiction tropes and writing styles becomes increasingly disturbing…hide the smut everyone Daniel Howell is coming for it.

- Phil! with the puns! honestly Dan, how do you put up with this man?

- (bloopers bonus!) the way dans voice changes when he grabs Phils underwear and is just ENTHRALLED with the fact that he’s colour coordinates his boxers to his bedsheets is probably the single most disgusting thing i have ever witnessed in my entire life…i mean, i love it, but why are you SO EXTRA?!

Phil is not on fire 8 (29 November 2016)

- NOTHING in the animal or cutlery kingdoms should be born or created in the way Phil describes the birthing process of a spork!

- okay. OKAY! i love the fringes, i really do. i’m a fringe fan from way back, but the hair pushed back thing they get going on sometimes? i can get on board with that.

- aaaannd at 1:57 into pinof 8, the little game i like to play called “Phan or Viktuuri" had all of its lines blurred so far beyond recognition i’m not even sure which universe i’m living in anymore.

- the PSA for “staying hydrated"…such a harmless, and beautiful message about health and self care that the phandom managed to turn into a sex meme…but no one is surprised by that now, are they?

- i need to know why that stock photo exists in the first place…also, why the hell was Phil wearing sandals in November?

- (bloopers bonus!) Phil: “phil is not on fire 8! this time its…what the tagline?” the phandom: “…gayer than ever?” Dan: “full of regrets.” the phandom: “…i mean I GUESS!!!”

- (bloopers bonus!) everything about this blooper reel just confirms even more solidly that Dan is the biggest Phil fan in the world. i’m not gonna wax poetic about the compliments or the comparisons to sunshine or anything else, because at this point is it really necessary? no. i thought not.

and there we have it. just in time for PINOF 9 to be released, a full (and much more in depth than intended) recap of the saga thus far…wake me up when Gamingmas starts, cuz after this video comes out, i’m gonna need a solid week of sleep

#pinof 9 #dan and phil #phandom #daniel howell #phil lester #amazingphil #pinof8 #pinof 7 #pinof 6 #pinof 5 #pinof 4 #pinof 3 #pinof 2 #pinof 1 #pinof #phil is not on fire #danisnotonfire #2017 in the phandom #my own special brand of shitpost

[ofcowardiceandkings]

okay since i said i was gonna ages ago and a few people asked anyway and i need a distraction really fuckin bad right nowww im finally gonna post my notes on making the artwork for the fairytale metaphor - tjlc advent videoooooo ,, 

Very Excuse Me for being a dork in advance lksdjksdjfdkls

scroll to the bottom for my Fave Bit its cute promise

heres some waffle first;

the general style of early english stained glass which i love [yells] ye get attached to weird shit when you write your coursework on the evolution of churches in england fnjdksjf ( you can read it here if youre interested in this kind of mess , be warned its 43 pages long and just over 11k words but my own work beyond the context essay is new research) --- anyway its an easily simplified style of framing at its most basic level since it was all very practical up to a point the mash of norman + saxon stylings are pretty simple and sturdy - the british isles were late to the gothic architecture party which is why early english gothic is very distinct --- in terms of stained glass the british isles were VERY late to the party and windows stayed very basic right into the gothic period when the full package of technologies arrived completed in the 12th century and only took a generation to make it from cathedrals into parish churches --- as is pretty much the point of my coursework the two can exist perfectly together anyway !! the vast majority of christian buildings in the uk contain several phases where newfangled extensions and fashions are chucked in to make the best of your little local church and a lot of the earliest cathedrals are full of stained glass now , id say this set mostly follows the impression we get of old sarum cathedral (now salisbury they literally just moved the site from the hill to the town) and if you have a chance to visit PLEASE do :’) the museum opposite is amazing too fyi

I REALLY ENJOYED MAKING THE FONT !!!!!! i couldnt find one i liked enough that was free so i just .. made one lmao GO HARD its an odd mash of studies from the lindisfarne gospels with later medieval documents i photographed for a project and saxon writing / “celtic” fonts, and studies of full manuscripts

the illuminated letters are mostly based on lindisfarne again (xcuse me i love it)  they just ended up coming out far more saxon / northern early christian than the rest of the text but i fully blame that on the context of my archaeology course being run by a catholic geordie who specialised in the dark ages who took us TO holy island lmao

the chainmail tabard combo is all very crusader-ish but its very archetypal of the knights of the era so fuck it, its historically what WOULD have appeared on stained glass anyway [shrug]

i had the hardest gd time figuring out what colour to put sherlock in like so i Create Anew or recreate his clothes ,, purple is wildly historically inaccurate this is my One Thing leave me be i think the purple suits him lmfao

kicks ya door down mAGPIE DRAGON !!!!! which was VERY FUCKING HARD TO FIGURE since its kind of at odds with what your medieval monks bestiaries made dragons look like i wanna know what the fuck they were up to making those things jesus

jus by the by its also very hard to make animals look like andrew scott i can pull that off for ben and martin without too much trouble but HOOO BOY ANDREW ur cute face is difficult lol

thats the tower of london in the background there it was the only (vaguely) relevant landmark that would have been around about that time-frame fjjfjksjf WOW @ SELF why did london have to like .. burn down lol, fuckin wood

the castle behind the moriarty dragon is vaguely styled in a similar fashion to the original tower structure but theres a dragon in the way

while we’re in this realm the background on sir-boast-a-lot is a wing-it affair based on what we kinda knew about medieval town houses with cobble streets and what your average parish church looked like but mostly i love the beam and whitewash structures put me in a bin

anyway

i kinda dressed john up a little more like an archer than full on crusader ?? archer john is life so, using a longbow is also something all boys were legally required to learn for the longest time so its not even out there, i still dont know many people who havent learned how to use a bow and a few people own them too lmfao the countryside is a parody of itself

oKAY THIS IS FUN the navy/yellow stripes and the blue chevron on white are simplified versions of the usual holmes and watson coat of arms’ respectively 8)  these are what 4crests (arms archive) puked out on them both;

theyre so similar in colour its cute !!!!!!

I LOV THAT !!!!!! 

for the sake of not making them clash i made sherlocks blue more navy though its the aesthetique and took out the moons and birbs on johns because Hey Thats Clutter 

i spend way too long on this stuff lmfao

if you made it to the end you deserve a hug and a milkshake thanku 💙

#rory's ramblings #pilots doodles #history #archaeology #read more for mobile

[madamecolette]

I was tagged by my tremendously brilliant and always on point @cafeleningrad. As always, thank you!

Rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people

THE LAST

1. drink: the blood of my enemies. Okay, technically just water. But enemies beware! And water beware too! *Dramatic music climax* 2. phone call: Someone wanted to sell me a water purifier. I’m telling you, I’m disappointed no one ever calls me to offer me 1 million euros. 3. text message: a friend commented on a YouTuber’s coming out video. Very millenial. 4. song you listened to: Rebecca by Laura Marling 5. time you cried: So many onions. 6. dated someone twice: Two weeks ago, except the second date was the break up one.  7. kissed someone and regretted it: In an attempt to show how comfortable it was, I passionately kissed my pillow once and, not to offend it, but I could have avoided that. 8. been cheated on: Never by people, that I know. That pillow, on the other hand... 9. lost someone special: Most sorrowfully. 10. been depressed: Not as visibly as our economy. 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: I did both things separately, never in the same episode. 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS 12. All the shades 13. of my rich, variable, always growing 14. self-embarrassment

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU 15. made new friends: Acquaintances. 16. fallen out of love: Only out of my love for some long nourished ideas. 17. laughed until you cried: My best tears. 18. found out someone was talking about you: No, but to get back to the most interesting topic here, I hope they were saying “We should definitely give her 1 million euros”.

19. met someone who changed you: Replace “met” with its opposite. 20. found out who your friends are: None of them was revealed to be an undercover spy or an alien. I’m kind of disappointed. 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: I’m gonna read this as “have you kissed someone leaning on your laptop with your browser open on your facebook list”? and say “No, what a weirdly specific position”. Because if I read it in another way, well... GENERAL 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: Most of them. 23. do you have any pets: No. Sometimes I think I should get a dog (a stupidly affectionate one), but then the gigantic wave of the responsability to look after another being falls on me and I come back to my senses. 24. do you want to change your name: No, I’m good with all my many personalities’ names. 25. what did you do for your last birthday: Most notably nothing.  26. what time did you wake up: 7 am 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Is this a custodial interrogation? Do I have the right to stay silent and what I say can be used against me? 28. name something you can’t wait for: getting to the last answer and post it, because I can vividly see myself accidentally closing this page by accident when I’m in the middle of it and curse in all the languages I can curse in (credits to Lewis) 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: Today. 31. what are you listening to right now: Il più grande spettacolo dopo il big bang - Jovanotti 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: Does Tommaso from my elementary school count? 33. something that is getting on your nerves: Mosquitoes’ unrequited love for me. 34. most visited website: Wordreference.  35. hair colour: chestnut brown. 36. long or short hair: long. Should cut it but I have an hostile relationship with the hairdresser and by hostile I mean as soon as she sees me she wants to make half of my hair blond.  37. do you have a crush on someone: I’d describe it like an interest. 38. what do you like about yourself: My writer’s callus on my ring finger. I like you, little bump. 39. want any piercings: no, thanks. 40. blood type: You’d think a responsible adult would know. But I’m the kind of responsible adult who knows her Hogwarts House, not her blood type. 41. nickname: Franci, Fran, Pizza. 42. relationship status: As single as the last cookie that’s now looking at me from its bag. 43. zodiac: Sagittarius 44. pronouns: she 45. favourite tv show: currently Orphan Black, Broad City, Crashing, You’re the Worst 46. tattoos: no. 47. right or left handed: right.

48. surgery: Had a mole removed on my back. 49. piercing: no.  50. sport: I don’t know anyone called sport. 51. vacation: not in the near future. 52. pair of trainers: yes, I very much pair of trainers (?) MORE GENERAL 53. eating: I’ve heard of it. 54. drinking: “I love drinking! I have many friends drinking! How can I be drinking-phobic if I have friends drinking? Drinking are people!” 55. im about to: pee. Let me be honest, this is exactly what I’ll be doing after posting this.

56. waiting for: See above. 57. want: See above. 58. get married: If that happens, chances are a clone has replaced me. Look for me. Save me. Find me. 59. career: “I love career! I have many friends who career! How can I be career-phobic if I have career friends? Careers are people!”

WHICH IS BETTER 60. hugs or kisses: I very rarely do any of them (yes, I confess, even if I’m italian I rarely kiss, which brings me to think my italian citizenship is at risk. It’s a relief I love pasta), so if they happen, they must be very much felt. So I cannot choose. 

61. lips or eyes: Ice is better than leaps. 62. shorter or taller: Irrelevant 63. older or younger: acceptably mature 64. nice arms or nice stomach: nice coat of arms. 65. hook up or relationship: Uhm, something more significant than the former, but lighter than the latter... the 10 seconds What if relationship: we casually look at each other from across the street, the camera closes up on my eye, only to move on yours immediately after. In the span of 10 seconds, we imagine- no, wait, we do live the most incredible love story of the century. I can see it in your pupil, as it is just a mirror of mine: all the journeys we would make, all the laughters we would cause each other, all the stolen kisses, all the misunderstood words, all the mistakes and all the fights. In the time you need to breath in and breath out, a wonder comes and dies. And then, as fast as it came, the vision waves back and the camera steps away and we’re back to complete strangers whose eyes locked, by accident, on a random day, from across a street. You blink, I turn my head away and as we part, both of us think: “Oh god, what is wrong with me? Where the hell did that fantasy come from?”, but we will think of it again, of that odd odd time that we caressed but never touched, and never knew but surely met. Of that time that we have been our favorite What if. 66. troublemaker or hesitant: the space in between HAVE YOU EVER 67. kissed a stranger: no 68. drank hard liquor: yes 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: no, but I broke them. 70. turned someone down: yes 71. sex on the first date: no 72. broken someone’s heart: I’m afraid so 73. had your heart broken: viciously, but only by fate 74. been arrested: is this an invitation? 75. cried when someone died: yes 76. fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN 77. yourself: I’ve come to the conclusion that chances are I exist, so I better believe in it. 78. miracles: It’s a miracle I’ve lost myself in all this babbling and I still didn’t go to pee. 79. love at first sight: Only strong fondness and strong dislike. 80. santa claus: Never.  81. kiss on the first date: If I believe in kiss on the first date? What kind of question is this? 82. angels: If they exist, they must be so happy to be put after the supernatural phenomenon of kisses on the first date. OTHER 83. current best friends name: Caterina, Roberta, Leonie, Carla.  84. eye colour: brown. If I wrote a dumb YA novel, I’d say chocolate brown, because I’d have to make it less boring. 85. favorite movie: Look, it’s 00:46 and I really need to use the toilet, so I’ll just come up with the first one that comes to mind and it is LadyHawke.

#i was tagged #personal

[thordwilk]

Doh this was meant to be out sooner but Vietnam internet took a blow recently and all internet has gone south till they can fix the issue, with just a week or so till Tet. Which is pretty bad timing considering.

Anyway onto what’s been going on:7

I just got done watching Sing the musical movie by illumination Entertainments artists.  The film is as abc in plot as you can imagine.  But it’s execution is what matters and with its clear acts and pacing I really got into the movie. The musical numbers are well spaced and the visuals are joyful and coloured to set the scenes perfectly. The characters each are enjoyable to watch,  even when they clearly are designed to be the heels in the story. The fur and lighting really work well in the film, I loved the nice touched of browns and greys in the Gorilla families design,  the hair added on the pigs ears and eyebrows and the translucency of the quills on the teen rock singer Ash. The eyes were nicely bright and captured the feeling of wonder and enjoyment pretty well. Particularly when they were focused on for scenes like the singing contest reveal and reminiscing scenes. They has been some joy put into this movie and things like the lip syncing between each animal to the songs didn’t seem mismatched.  It isn’t a complex movie like Zootopia or Rango, its focus is so much on the music your almost second guessing yourself into thinking that there will be some drama, but no, it just side steps those issues to get back to the music.

What issue do come up are more motivators for the characters to stay in the production and go through it on their own terms.

Not much more to say on it, just give it a watch with children or with someone who enjoys a good sing and you’ll probably do fine. Its good, not great, but I really am happy to take that. Defiantly going to buy the blue ray and Book when it comes out.

JAPAN WOOOOH

First the bad, I got sick with a fever and flu all in one go one night before I was to set off, thanks to my students not realising the concept of covering their damn mouths when they cough or sneeze. So I stocked up on a cocktail of pills and drugs to try to ease the pain and kill off the flu whilst I sweated out as much of the sickness as I could. After one night I had enough recovery to be able to get myself onto a plane and out Japan. I took a flyover from Taiwan via Vanilla Air, I liked the flight nothing complicated or plush, but it was a damn sight better setup then the last Chinese flight I had to take to get to Japan in August (shudder).

Arriving I basically ended up relapsing into a fever which took another 2-3 days to kill off enough for me to be able to properly travel about. A huge thank you to my friends in Japan for letting me stay with them. I  will respect their privacy here but thank you for letting me stay and recover.

#gallery-0-17 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-17 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-17 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-17 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Hi Baby Im back!

Nice Optimus

Took me a while to figure this one

Parasyte!

Money no opion for that magnifisant mustache

All about the odd ones

Just some girls in a box

Japanese Sauna!

Guess what this thing is! No waiting for me this time!

Looking on whilst a man in a dog gimp suit sels comics

Daw so nicely done

Sooo Many

Just a pretty face

Night time for Big Sight

Hidden shrine

Nice drinking water

discrete temple

odd decor on the streets of Japan

went a wondering and ended up in freaking New York?

Very nice clean/quiet area

Wakawaka

thought it looked artsy

Nice water feature

Serene

Just had to sit down and marval at the lack of noise in the main area of the Palace

Wakabahmramwaparara….

Secrete mini shrine 2

Offerings

more water to wash and drink

when you just crave something different

Located in one of the stations was quite a display

Too the big temples!

Larger shot

soo many travelling

Almost there

under the big laterns

inside the priests are chanting

Gundam before it gets demolished

GUNDAM!

some lovely water features near by

and a freakin Delorean!

Thankfully Tet is very nearly on us so I can get my modelling skills back after this drought I’ve had these past few months. So I’ve been working in my free time on getting my skills back up to scratch.

I’ve been doodling creatures and ideas for various things and last week I was on a mixed race dino kick thanks to being reminded of Dinosaurs the tv series. So I made two heads of different mixed race dinos I picked from Google images and mashed together.

Well I think thats about all for now, its not what I had hoped to be posting but after Tet I will be doing some more VR stuff to show off. Possibly more time-lapses and animations. So till then.

À bientôt!

  SING the movie review And Japan 2016/17 c91 Doh this was meant to be out sooner but Vietnam internet took a blow recently and all internet has gone south till they can fix the issue, with just a week or so till Tet.

#3d #Comiket #Delorean #Dinosaurs #Doujin #Female #Fountain #Gundam #Japan #Mixed Race #People #Photos #renders #shrines #water #wip #Zbrush