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desertmountainapothecary · 1 year

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Morteros Archaeological Site Anza Borrego Desert State Park – San Diego Backcountry Offroad 4x4 Jeep OHV Overland Adventure!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hwbzrKwlcw

Let’s visit the Native American Kumeyaay archaeological site in the Anza Borrego Desert State Park. This very special place features incredible morteros, or mortars that were used for cooking, set within the cozy winter Kumeyaay campsite. You really get a sense of the tribal life of the indigenous people within the gorgeously sculpted boulders, and the many morteros. This video is dedicated to the Kumeyaay people past, present, and future, both north, and south of the United States, Mexico border.

I recommend this site for anyone visiting the Anza Borrego Desert State Park, it’s about 2 miles down a graded and maintained dirt road called Mine Wash Road. Up until the Morteros site, a toyota rav 4 or subaru outback could pretty easily make it, as long as they are going slowly and being careful. It’s so much fun to feel the wheels of your car or truck drive off of the pavement and hear the satisfying crunch of the desert dirt road underneath.

Once you get to the Morteros site, you can see why the Kumeyaay people, chose this site as a winter encampment. There are incredible panoramic views from every direction, and an array of beautiful boulder formations to break the wind and create cozy, and very homey little areas for their domestic life. There are many morteros around the site, so you won’t have to search far for them, and when you touch them, it’s an incredible feeling to be touching the same stone that an unknowable amount of generations of Kumeyaay people touched and used day to day.

The desert plant life is starting to green up after our cold, wet winter. Three years of intensely destructive drought has scarred the land, but we’re starting to see some regrowth. This area of the Anza Borrego Desert State Park is called the Mescal Bajada. If the word mescal sounds familiar to you, that’s because the Kumeyayy word for agave, is mescal with an s, and mezcal with a z is the delicious smoky tequila distilled from roasted hearts of this type of agave plant. And a bajada is a Spanish word for a huge desert slope area, which creates the perfect conditions for intense wind.

The wind was absolutely whipping down the mountain, and it was impossible to film with the sound. I might come back here on a calm day and film another video, I really think this site is worth featuring twice. There’s just such an abundance of spiritual energy in this place, and I just find myself continuing to return.

Let’s continue our journey of discovery together in Southern California and beyond.

If you love exploring the San Diego Backcountry as much as I do, enjoy a scenic drive with me through the Anza Borrego Desert State Park, Julian and Santa Ysabel.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2Z_o0S4Hpg&t=5s

And let’s take a supreme desert offroad adventure in Wild Coyote Canyon during our wet winter. The creeks are flowing, and the wildflowers are blooming in the San Diego desert.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQYPvqj2ouU

San Diego Backcountry Videos:

Palm Canyon Oasis:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Le0eGyQcUMo&t=16s

Desert Snow:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoZrv58Dk08

Rusted & Rustic:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxoSZmpcUcM&t=6s

Desert Time Lapses:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMJCZeBUh3c&t=4s

About Desert Mountain Apothecary: The original desert apothecary for mind, body & spirit: desert roots & desert mountain botanicals: Desert Mountain Apothecary by William Z. Brennan. Supremely natural natural skincare & botanical fragrance hand made with love from the purest natural source plant-based ingredients.

About William Z. Brennan: William Z. Brennan is a natural lifestyle expert, founder of Desert Mountain Apothecary & author of upcoming e-book Natural Lifestyle Optimization. Originally from New York, and with a background in fragrance, skincare, fashion design & bespoke mens tailoring, he is now based in the Southern California Desert.

About Natural Lifestyle Optimization: William Z. Brennan is the author of upcoming e-book Natural Lifestyle Optimization, a new way of harnessing habits and routines towards a transformation and renewal of mind, body & spirit. Pre-order your copy of Natural Lifestyle Optimization today!

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https://www.linkedin.com/in/william-z-brennan

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https://twitter.com/DesertMountai17

LinkTree:

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All content in this video was created and solely owned by Desert Mountain Apothecary and William Z. Brennan, except for the following music:

Old Salooner Blues – Midnight North

Pioneers - Audionautix

Morning Mandolin - Chris Haugen

All the Fixings - Zachariah Hickman

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dead-end-draws · 11 days

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WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:

Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyyria.

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.

Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyyria originated from a Skywing’s talons.

Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrria. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.

Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrria is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.

Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.

Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.

Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyyria. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).

Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyyria’s trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.

Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyyria. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.

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adventure-showdown · 6 months

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What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

The Rescue and The Ice Warriors tied. These are the 10 stories that were closest to making it through and so have been given a second chance

ROUND 2 MASTERPOST

synopses and propagnada under the cut

Marco Polo

Synopsis

Arriving in Central Asia in 1289, the Doctor and his companions join the caravan of the famous Venetian explorer Marco Polo as it makes its way from the snowy heights of the Pamir Plateau, across the treacherous Gobi Desert and through the heart of imperial Cathay.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Keys of Marinus

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives on the planet Marinus on an island of glass surrounded by a sea of acid. The travellers are forced by the elderly Arbitan to retrieve four of the five operating keys to a machine called the Conscience of Marinus - a machine capable of influencing all minds on the planet - of which he is the keeper. These have been hidden in different locations around the planet to prevent them falling into the hands of the evil Yartek and his Voord warriors, who plan to seize the machine and use its originally benevolent mind-influencing power for their own sinister purposes.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Rescue

Synopsis

The Doctor, Ian and Barbara arrive on the planet Dido. They find a crashed spaceship, the only two survivors of which are terrorised by the monster Koquillion. But who is Koquillion?

Propaganda

god I love this story, its short and sweet, but the implications, the everything of vicki’s life before the doctor, the firey passion with which I hate bennet is boundless, as is my love for sandy. ITS SO GOOD! VOTE FOR IT! (@sandymybeloved )

The Space Museum

Synopsis

The TARDIS jumps a time track and the travellers arrive on the planet Xeros. There they discover their own future selves displayed as exhibits in a museum established as a monument to the galactic conquests of the warlike Morok invaders who now rule the planet. When time shifts back to normal, they realise that they must do everything they can to avert this potential future.

Vicki helps the native Xerons obtain arms and revolt against the Moroks. The revolution succeeds and the travellers go on their way, confident that the future has been changed.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Massacre

Synopsis

The TARDIS materialises in Paris in the year 1572 and the Doctor decides to visit the famous apothecary Charles Preslin. Steven, meanwhile, is befriended by a group of Huguenots from the household of the Protestant Admiral de Coligny. Having rescued a young serving girl, Anne Chaplet, from some pursuing guards, the Huguenots gain their first inkling of a heinous plan being hatched at the command of the Catholic Queen Mother, Catherine de Medici.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The War Machines

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives in London in 1966 and the First Doctor and Dodo visit the Post Office Tower. There they meet Professor Brett, whose revolutionary new computer WOTAN (Will Operating Thought ANalogue) can actually think for itself and is shortly to be linked up to other major computers around the world — a project overseen by civil servant Sir Charles Summer.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Moonbase

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives in 2070 on the Moon, where a weather control station under the command of a man named Hobson is in the grip of a plague epidemic — in reality the result of an alien poison planted by the Cybermen. Jamie is knocked unconscious and lapses into a delirium, leaving the Second Doctor, Ben, and Polly to fight off a massive Cyberman attack.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Macra Terror

Synopsis

When the Second Doctor, Ben, Polly and Jamie visit a human colony that appears to be one big holiday camp, they think they have come across a truly happy place. Yet a shadowy presence soon makes them realise that the surface contentment is carefully controlled.

The colony's inhabitants have been brainwashed by giant, crab-like creatures — the Macra. Insidious propaganda, broadcast by the Controller, forces the humans to mine a gas that is essential for the Macra to survive, but fatal to them.

The colony must be saved — but how? The Doctor and his team are up against it, particularly when Ben falls under the influence of the Macra. Can he be rescued from their evil clutches? Can the gas pumping equipment be destroyed, getting rid of the Macra for good?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Ice Warriors

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives on Earth in a new ice age. The travellers make their way into a base where scientists, commanded by Leader Clent, are using an ioniser device to combat the advance of a glacier.

A giant humanoid creature, called an Ice Warrior by one of the scientists, has been found buried in the nearby glacier. When thawed, it revives and is revealed to be Varga, captain of a Martian spacecraft that landed on Earth centuries ago and is still in the glacier. Varga sets about freeing his comrades and formulating a plan to conquer the Earth — Mars itself is now dead.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Seeds of Death

Synopsis

The TARDIS lands in a space museum on Earth in the late 21st century, where the Second Doctor, Jamie and Zoe learn that contact has been lost between Earth and the Moon. In this era, instant travel — T-Mat — has revolutionised the Earth. Its people have lost interest in space travel. The Doctor and his companions travel to the Moon in an old-style rocket and reach the Moonbase, control centre for T-Mat, only to find a squad of Ice Warriors have commandeered the base and plan to use the T-Mat network to their advantage.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

#round 2 #tiebreak

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kyndaris · 1 month

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Way to Dawn

There is something to be said of old turn-based games with pixellated graphics. For many, they hark back to the good old days where things in the world actually made sense. In these halcyon days, things were simple. There was not as much grey in the world because everything was black and white. Unfortunately, as time has passed me by, games have become grittier with worlds as drab and bleak as the one we face in reality. Octopath Traveler, however, is a series that knows exactly how to tap into the nostalgia we have for our childhoods.

When the first game released in 2018, I was immediately hooked. In 2023, the second game came out. Due to the fact I was drowning in far too many lengthy games that released in the back-half of 2022, coupled with an overseas trip, and a host of other compelling titles, I simply could not find the necessary time to sink into Octopath Travler II. Enter January 2024.

After finishing off a few key games like Assassin's Creed: Mirage and Spider-Man 2 over December, I managed to eke out some time to give Octopath Traveler II my undivided attention. 90+ hours of it, in fact.

While I started with Alfyn in the original Octopath Traverl, this time I decided to go with my gut and pick my favourite class in almost every single role-playing game I've ever had the chance to dabble in: a thief. Unlike the happy-go-lucky apothecary, Alfyn, Throne finds herself trapped in an endless cycle of death. Her opening chapter sees her scurrying through the sewers of New Delsta with three other members of her gang, the Black Snakes. As the chapter progress, we see the internal struggle among the members of the gang before Throne is then confronted with a long-time friend as both are keen to escape the chains that bind them.

Despite the bleak nature of this first part, Throne's story is still one filled with optimism as she fights for freedom and to break free from the cycle that has kept her trapped for all her life.

From there, I slowly recruited the rest of the Travelers, starting off with Temenos and Osvald. From there, I jumped on a ship to Beastling Island, recruited Ochette and moved to the Eastern Continent - nabbing Castti, Hikari, Partitio and Agnea. The journey took me all across the world of Solistia.

Later, as the game progressed, I would hop to and fro from both continents as I chased after each dangling story thread for my odd band of characters.

And while I liked all of the stores, the two that stuck out to me belonged to Partitio and Agnea. Possibly because of how positive their outlooks were, and how undaunted they were of the cruelties inherent in the world. I know others on the internet may disagree but given the state of the world these days, I was in the mood for something light-hearted and fun.

Let's start with the Dancer shall we?

Agnea is a girl from the village of Cropdale. Her mother was a dancer and, like her, Agnea dreams of becoming a star. Her story, although simple, sees her travel all across the world to show off her dancing talent and bring a smile to people's faces.

Along the way, she meets a colourful cast of intrepid performers from Gil to Giselle's Travelling Troupe.

Of course, it wouldn't be a video game without a villain. And Dolcinaea serves as the perfect foil to Agnea's optimism. Hers is a tale of hardship growing up in the deserts of Sai, being inspired by Cuani (Agnea's mother) and working hard to become a star to take her away from her roots. But while she views her past with disdain and wishes to eradicate it, Agnea is there to remind her of the people her actions will affect, culminating in a dance battle at the Grand Gala in the Merry Hills region.

Plus, there's some fruity goodness along the way with a few key lines between Veronica and Dolcinaea.

Who doesn't like an uplifting journey, anyways?

As for Paritio...where to begin?

If all merchants were like him, I'd think the world would be a much better place. Growing up in a silver mine, Partitio has experienced both prosperity and the depths of poverty when the former land owner of the silver mine takes back the land and levies a huge tax on the silver that is mined in the area. Crushed underneath the weight of oppressive capitalism, Partitio and his gang of friends push back against the enforcers (including a man named Giff - which felt like it was ripping off Biff from the Back to the Future series).

From there, Partitio seeks to do away with the devil that is 'poverty' and seeks out a means to make money but also give back to the community at large. He does so by buying the rights to the steam engine. But not before securing himself a grand sum of 80 billion leaves!

And instead of running away with the money, makes good on his promise to make the world a better place.

While there are some forums that declare Partitio as a capitalist in the truest sense (where human greed does not enter the equation and people know how to share the wealth), I thought many of his ideas somewhat left-leaning. True, he is no communist but Partitio is a person who understands the plight of the common-man and knows how to utilise the talents of those around him to the greatest benefit. More than that, though, he is filled with empathy for those around him and isn't shy to splash his own money around to improve the lives of those around them by 1. giving them a living wage and 2. not push people down in order to get ahead.

Plus, when his theme starts playing and the saxophone kicks in...you know you've got a winner on your hands.

I also really liked Agnea's Song of Hope theme. But I'm also a sucker for any fiddle or string instrument. Which is also why I'm in love with Throne's and Osvald's themes. And that is something else I wanted to praise about Octopath Traveler II. The music! My goodness, the music!

Both Octopath Traveler games are scored by Yasunori Nishiki and he is a genius when it comes to composing such great music. There is something so magical about all the tracks in Octopath Traveler II that I loved.

And that's saying a lot because I very much enjoyed the tracks of the game. Heck, I even bought the CD for the first game and had my mother play it while we drove back up from Melbourne.

The music also proved great at selling the emotion of the song and kept the story aloft, proving to be very poignant at several points. It always kept me engaged during the boss battles. Such a shame it was overlooked at The Game Awards in 2023. I'm sure Flute Guy would have kicked it out of the park if Octopath Traveler II had been nominated for Game of the Year. He certainly was living his best life when Xenoblade Chronicles 3 was nominated and was grooving out to Tears of the Kingdom.

But back to the story of Octopath Travler II. Like the first game, the stories of the Travelers are connected to a central antagonist. But whereas Galdera was a hidden boss hidden behind several side quests, after finishing off each of the Traveler's stories and the Crossed Paths storylines, the Travelers come together and ACTUALLY interact with each other.

When the world plunges into darkness, the Travelers soon piece together that the Moonshade Order was behind it all. Together, they set about re-igniting the flames scattered around the world before confronting the big bad: Vide after Oboro sacrifices himself to the God.

And like many games of the past decade, Octopath Traveler II is a game that explores themes of despair and hope through the lens of nihilism. In fact, I was reminded very much of Danganronpa. True, we didn't have a crazy antagonist obsessed with despair, but we did encounter individuals who saw a cruel unforgiving world and gave into the darkness (or Shadow) within their hearts to quell the suffering.

It's a sentiment I can understand. Humans are cruel. Wars are started for petty reasons, be they for resources or simple pride.

Worse, we turn a blind eye to certain inconvenient truths. Especially if they would only serve to make us feel bad.

Sometimes it's easy to think: what would life be like if humans were all wiped out from existence?

Our Travelers, though, are made of sterner stuff. Despite witnessing atrocities, they continue to fight for the dawn. In their hearts lay a glimmer of light - of hope - for a better world. And in a video game, their actions do bring on positive change.

Together, they drive back Vide and look to the future. Thus bringing a happy end to it all.

But while the overarching story might feel quite simplistic, the themes explored in Octopath Traveler II, I felt were especially poignant. In each Traveler's story, we got to see elements of our current world - be it corrupt bureaucracy, the inherent greediness in humans or their lack of care for the natural world. Each time, though, the Travelers managed to triumph over their foes and bring new understanding.

It's a story I can get behind. And it's probably why I fell in love with Partitio and Agnea's story (but also, who wouldn't want to fight a steam train?)

Gameplay-wise, Octopath Traveler II doesn't stray too far from the first game. It does, however, have a few tweaks that make the game fun and exciting such as Latent Powers and character abilities. For example, Throne is able to increase the strength of all characters at the start of battle when it's night-time. Hikari, on the other hand, has access to learned skills which can be gained by challenging NPCs scattered around the world.

This brings a whole host of different ways to play the game and to optimise the party. Even as weigh in on when to use brave points to unleash on our foes and break past their shields or to hoard them for a devastating attack later on.

Combined in this way, Octopath Traveler II is a marvel of a game. True, there were moments where I felt the story was a little bogged down, but I certainly enjoyed my time with it. Better yet, it never felt like it was a grind. The 90+ hours I sunk into it flew by without me even realising it as my characters levelled up and grew stronger with each passing hour. Beyond these factors, it also added elements of fruitiness between NPCs but it never tried to shove it in the player's face.

Still, in my head-canon, Dolcinaea and Veronica are a couple. As are Temenos and Crick (before his untimely demise - but he was giving off mass death vibes in Chapter 3. Just saying), Pala and Mikka, and possibly Castti and Malaya (although Malaya, too, is dead).

Plus, I loved the dynamics between all the Travelers with Castti being the mum of the group, Osvald the dad, with the others being chaotic siblings.

#video games #octopath traveler 2 #agnea bristarni #partitio yellowil #throne anguis #temenos mistral #hikari ku #ochette #mikka x pala #dolcinaea x veronica #castti florenz

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sfyristwrites · 2 years

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This is some very old writing from when I was just a babe, and it's a bit silly and not very original, but I think it's fun and hope you will, too. :)

To save you pages of exposition, all you need to know about the set-up is -- there are two young human lovers out adventuring, and they come across this deserted village in the cliffs and begin exploring. They don't realize they're being watched by the place's longer-lived-but-still-quite-young-for-his-people elven protector, until too late. This is lead up to the bondage-y scenes I was talking about, so hey, here we go.

No matter how they searched, the place seemed to be quite deserted, and for some decades.

"Come on, Maris, the marks say this was an apothecary's. I wonder what sort of magic they practiced?" Edwin directed then up a steep, narrow street.

There were vials still everywhere, covered in dust. Just left behind, making the place more of a mystery. "I found something!" called Edwin after a few minutes. "Careful-- " he added quickly, "-- of the shelves; they'll pour dust if you bump them."

Maris gave him a slightly shy smile. "Would that displease you, really?"

Edwin laughed, and leaned in for a light kiss. "As sensitive as you are," he drawled, delighting in the flush touching his lover's fair cheeks, "this would be a bit much. But later..."

He started to lower his voice and say more, teasing, but Maris swatted at him and raised his eyebrows. "You said you found something?"

In truth it was already an effort for Maris to keep his voice from wavering from the growing need in him, just from being inside the place. And for him, that didn't mean only the need to sneeze but another, also, inextricably linked inside him, and his lover knew it.

Edwin was right. He was sensitive. If he started sneezing now they'd certainly end up making love outside on the cracked paving stones, and Maris was hoping to do better than that tonight. He'd seen an abandoned bathhouse with clean-running water.

Neither of the young men realized, as they looked at a few charms in shapes they recognized and discussed the possibilities of ancient trade routes, that someone was watching them from the other side of the filthy window.

His name was Aldren, and he was the guardian of the abandoned village. He made his home high above the tallest spire, in the cliffs, but his wards had drawn him down to what he had ascertained were harmless intruders.

They were taking charms from the shop, however, as if they had a right to them. He was considering a proper punishment when the lighter, shorter young man muffled a sneeze in his elbow, and the dark-eyed one's attention snapped to him with unmistakable emotion. In seconds he'd crossed and taken the fairer man in a speaking kiss.

Amused and feeling a bit wicked, Aldren immediately gathered his own magic and decided how he would punish the two for their minor trespass. He made sure he was out of sight before they came out into the narrow road, both their color running a bit high.

The 'why' was no mystery to the observant elf. Aldren himself was rather interested in sneezing, in an entirely unreserved and completely carnal way. The young men were both handsome, one rangy and brown, the other sturdy and fair, only a few inches from being of a height. Fine, dark eyes on the one called Edwin, and a kind humor in Maris's smile.

Aldren smiled to himself, mischief overtaking him.

He sent a few stones rolling along the hill, opposite his direction.

"What was that?" said Edwin.

"I heard it too," said Maris. Without needing to confer, they dove behind a broken wall and tried to pinpoint the noise.

Using his magic so precisely would be exhausting, but Aldren knew it would not be without its compensations. The very idea of what he was about to do had his breath quickening, a flush running through him.

"Now, I levy punishment," said Aldren, the ritual words. He could just make out the two young men behind the wall. He chose his first target, the one who had already sneezed and seemed so unsettled by it.

The elf concentrated a moment, then formed the clear thought, "You will build up to a sneeze that will disappear before it's released, on the command "'Build.'"

The two young men were kneeling face to face behind the wall, trying to figure out what they'd heard. Maris looked through the bush with worried eyes. "There's definitely someone out there, Edwin. We need to stay quiet."

Even as he said it Maris felt a wave of tickles begin to creep into his nose. His eyes widened as he tried to keep them from fluttering shut. He tried to alleviate the tickle by rubbing the underside of his nose with his finger, but it wouldn't stop. "Ed- Edhwin..."

"What?" said Edwin, concentrating too hard to notice Maris's sneezy voice.

"Are you u-using that ch-charm?"

"What? No. What-? Ohh."

"Because… because… I… aah... aah'h'h'h-"

Edwin turned to look at his cousin, and saw his eyes flutter as his finger rubbed under his flaring nostrils.

"Because I… aahh… need to… aahh'h'h'h… sneeze… AHH-"

Edwin was frozen, watching, entranced. He didn't know what was making his lover want to sneeze, but he really wanted to see him let this one out, as he looked consumed by it.

His brain tried to tug at him, to remember someone was definitely out there, and Maris's sneezes could not be called quiet. Edwin reached over and began to massage his lover's nose bridge, trying to alleviate the tickle. It sometimes worked, but not against this rising urge. Maris's nostrils still flared.

"Ahh… AHH… AAHHH-" Maris stopped rubbing his nose and began to fan his face, as if to blow away whatever was making him sneeze, but it was not working. "AAAHH... AAHHH… AAHH.... AAAHHHH..." Small shivers were running over the compact body, and he was struggling for breath through the gasping.

Edwin used his palm to rub Maris's nose in a final attempt, but knew it wasn't working as he felt his lover's nostrils flare wildly against his skin. All he could hope was that whatever was out there was friendly, as he stopped rubbing Maris's nose, put a hand on his shoulder, and waited for the inevitable.

"AAHHH… AHHHH…AAHHH-" Maris's urge climaxed with his nostrils as wide as they could be, his mouth wide and his eyes closed, his hand coming up to clasp at Edwin's arm but then-- he froze. He opened his eyes, sniffed, and blinked, shuddering lightly and shaking away from Edwin by a few inches.

"It’s gone," he said in a stunned voice, as Edwin sighed with both relief and some disappointment. He couldn't deny what seeing Maris taken over like that did to him. Seeing his lover fall helplessly into the grip of his passions like that was more than stimulating.

Aldren, meanwhile, was enjoying the view, his needs already starting to rise as he looked at Maris again and, with a little shiver of anticipation, thought, "Build."

Maris rubbed his nose, still blinking, and said, "I wonder where that aahhh… c-came… AAHHH… from… AAHHH-" the tickle flared anew, just as strong as before, but this time he just breathed in and fanned his face with both hands, eager to sneeze this annoying tickle out. "AAHHH… AAHHH…AAAHHHH-"

Maris had again reached the climax when the tickle disappeared. Rubbing his nose and wiping at watering eyes, Maris said "Urgh! What the hell is wrong with AAHHH… AAHHH… AAHHHH-"

Certain the sneeze would escape this time, Maris's frustration rose as it disappeared again. His hands were fists and he was shaking, now, his body demanding satisfaction the magic was refusing it.

"Urghhh! Gods! What is doing this to m-uhm-me AAHHH… AHH... AAHHH-"

As this went on and on without culmination, Edwin watched with an increasingly stunned expression, as if he'd been hit with a bat. He felt frozen in place.

He'd never seen his lover look so tempting as while struggling with this sneeze. Maris was gasping and moving his firm body as though consumed, and the expression on his face just as he thought he had crested -- again. And then again.

Maris slumped as the urge faded again. "URGH! This is infuriating!" he said, scrubbing roughly at his tormented nose, his other fist pressing hard into his thigh, almost forgetting they were supposed to be hiding. He looked at Edwin, expecting a look of concern, but found only stunned, awed want.

"Do you have any idea what this is like?!" said Maris, obscurely hurt, and Aldren, hearing this, smiled again, brushing his long chestnut hair behind his shoulder and forcing himself to steady his own breathing, his own hands.

"He will now." Aldren looked at Edwin and thought, "'Build.'"

"No, not re-real… eehh… real-l-ly… ehh-" suddenly Edwin’s nose was assaulted with a fierce wave of tickles.

"M-M-Maris… eehh… EHH--" He wasn't the one allergic to so many things, this didn't just happen to him, not like this. He didn't enjoy it himself the way Maris did, either, not beyond the sensual pleasure of the sneeze itself. Unaroused, he had a little more room to think.

Maris stared at him, shocked by the desperation in his lover's face as Edwin went through the same gasping ascent to the crest -- and then had the tickle retreat, unresolved. Through his own simmering state of want and need, he managed, "Serves you right!"

Maris didn't want to be teasing, though. He wanted Edwin in his arms, at his neck, between his thighs -- his body cried for touch and relief.

Edwin’s eyes fluttered as his nostrils flared wildly again. Trying to fight this urge was like trying to stop the sun from setting, but he hadn't forgotten someone else was with them in this deserted city.

He tried to force back the urge, rubbing his nose with all he could think of, his finger, his palm, his forearm, but nothing worked as the tickle waxed. "eehhh… eehhh… EEHHH… EEEHHHH-"

Then, trembling right on the brink, the tickles disappeared. Edwin slowly opened his eyes and sniffed, a peculiar, unsatisfied ache in his sinuses and the pit of his stomach.

He managed a few calm breaths, only to have his eyes flutter shut and his nose twitch as the tickles returned, "eehhhh… EEHHH... EEIIIHH-" Right to the brink. Again the tickles disappeared and, moments later, reappeared.

"eeeehhhhhh..."

And then again.

Edwin began to understand the strength of Maris's frustration. "What the hell is going on?! EEIIIHHH-" The tickles returned again, and now Maris was almost laughing, caught between desire for his lover and amusement that for once it wasn't him having the attack.

"Snf!" Edwin whimpered. "'S no joy for me, though, eeehhh... y-you... at least... g-get to enjoy the sensation," he panted out, left again at the edge of completion.

Which was when Aldren looked back at the still breathless, flushed Maris and thought, "Build."

"Ha! ha! hah! HAA… HAA... AAHHH-" The tickle returned to Maris's nose, torturing him anew, making him groan and throw back his head.

Only suspicion kept Edwin from the bared throat. He might not experience sexual pleasure at his own ssneezing as Maris did, but Maris was irresistable in this moment, even as he sniffled and his eyes began to water.

Aldren was ecstatic. This was better than he could have imagined!

Fully erect and throbbing from the sight and sound of the young men in the throws of their nasal agony, he struggled for focus enough to form a new command.

He stared at each of the humans in turn thinking, "The build-ups will end this time. What begins next will take you to release." Aldren was so aroused he dared not even think the word to himself.

As each of them gasped their way to the climax the urge, again, fell away. They waited, both gasping for breath, Maris groaning with need, but the next onslaught didn't come. Edwin vigorously rubbed his nose, and looked about.

"What could possibly be causing this?" he wondered, wiping his eyes.

"I don’t know," Maris said in a somewhat shattered voice. "I just-- I just wish it would finish! I can't--! Edwin, I c-can't--"

"Shhh," Edwin murmurred with a squeeze to his lover's shoulder that set Maris curling in on himself, shuddering. Edwin didn't dare touch him anywhere else.

For once, Edwin understood what Maris-the-allergy-sufferer meant when he said sneezing could feel sexual. For once, Edwin wanted it as more than a brief taste of relief or to entice his love. His whole body was aching.

Not like poor Maris, though, painfully and visibly hard in his trousers, clearly on the brink of coming untouched.

As if in response to their wishes, they both felt the onrush of tickles again. Their eyes fluttered, their nostrils flared, and they gasped in a last breath before the sneezes were finally let out.

"AHH… AAHHH… AHKCHOO!"

"HE'EIIEETSSCH'OO!!"

"AHKCHHOO!!"

"HEE'EETSHH'OO!!"

"AAHHH… AAAHHHH…" For a moment, as his breath gathered, Maris feared a repeat of the frustration, but it seemed it was simply his body taking what respite it could before a truly powerful, "AAKCHHOO!!!!" that threw him forward onto his hands on the ground.

"HEYEETSSCHHH'OO!!" Edwin was compelled but not wrecked as Maris was by the expulsions, though seeing his lover so thoroughly overcome was beginning to make him hard and give the sneezes an added twinge of pleasure in the release.

"AAKSHOO!!!!" Maris was glad to be facing the ground, as his body convulsed and rare spray escaped with the final violent outburst.

"HEETSSHHOO!!!!!" Edwin's last sneeze was equally wet, rarity, too, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. Perhaps the tortuous buildups, or something in the air.

But nothing natural in the air could have caused that whole bizarre occurrence.

Before Edwin could gather himself and look away from Maris -- on hands and knees with his head down, shivering his way back into control of himself -- he

heard pebbles roll, up the narrow street behind him.

tbc

There's a lot more of this old stuff, a lot more explicit, if these characters are interesting to anyone. The sneezing gets more original the older I get. ;) Magical compulsion, actual bondage, evil enemy compulsion, all kinds of scenes.

I'd love to know what you guys think!

#snz kink #snzfucker #sneeze kink #sfyrist writes #compulsion #minors DNI

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weatheredfailnot · 2 years

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FFXIV Black OC Week || Day 2: Friends and Family

A'loq was adopted along with the rest of his three siblings after being taken out of a Garlean Castrum. Most of his childhood was spent in Kugane with his family, and unfortunately, he has no memory of his blood family from the A tribe after being forcefully removed from it.

Dove Carline, his Viera companion who was also gifted with the Blessing of Light, is his closest friend. They love hugging each other a lot.

More info about his family below!

@igayorhm

Celio lux Salvus || Father

A former Primus Medicus in exile. Phaedrus and Neiro's lover. Although the exchange was taken off the records to preserve the Legatus' reputation, Celio traded credit for his life's works and research for A'loq and his siblings' lives and safe removal from the legion with his Legatus. He originally planned to leave the children in Kugane with Neiro, but was convinced by Neiro to stay with them. He currently works as an apothecary in Kugane.

Phaedrus quo Modesto || Father

A former Centurio in exile. Celio's childhood friend and lover. After Celio successfully made the exchange for the children with their Legatus, Phaedrus was entrusted with the task of guiding them to Kugane and finding a caretaker for them. He returned to the legion soon after, but deserted years later to follow after Celio and join the family. He taught A'loq and Enkai almost everything they know about Magitek and general mechanics. He currently works in Kokajiya as a blacksmith, but enjoys going overseas to pester his son on his travels.

Neiro no Satsuki || Mother

Neiro was a professional geiko, but chose to retire to settle down with a client she fell in love with. However, when she failed to conceive, her first husband abandoned her. To make a living, Satsuki returned to her former workplace as an instructor and lived quite a dreary lifestyle until she met a hungover Garlean, Phaedrus, at the Shiokaze Holstery. She learned that he was looking for a potential caretaker and home for four children and agreed to help. Several months later, her life would be changed by the four children and unexpected Primus Medicus who were delivered unto her home.

Arashi || Older brother

A talented senior musician and taikomochi (male geiko). Outside of work, he is passionate about botany. He is good about keeping secrets and was a brother A'loq could trust throughout their youth.

Engelise || Older sister

Engelise is a go-getter and the most energetic out of her siblings. She grew up interested in business and trade, eventually becoming a representative for Rowena's House of Splendors in Kugane. Her current work involves combating market monopolies and revitalizing trade between Hingashi and the newly freed Doma. She travels on the road quite frequently for work, so she carries knives on her person for protection.

Enkai || Younger brother

Enkai is Arashi's brother by blood, but treats Engelise and A'loq equally like siblings. He used to to cling to A'loq before he left Kugane. Now he works in Kokajiya along Phaedrus, but continues to quietly support his brother by sending him weapons upgrades for his gunblade and firearms.

#FFXIV Black OC Week #FFXIV #A'loq Tia #Reposting this because it didn't show up in the tag #If it still doesn't show up oh well #Note that Dove Carline is a friend's OC!

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littlelionsloves · 4 years

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Black Lives Matter

This is a compilation post with information on:

Resources for Black people

How to support the Black community

How to help protests

Donating (even if you have no money to spare)

Petitions

Why the police force needs to be defunded

Educating yourself as a non-Black person

The importance of talking about race with children

Link to google doc that will be regularly updated

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Resources for Black people

7 Virtual Mental Health Resources Supporting Black People Right Now

Free therapy services

National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color (Twitter, IG)

Harriet’s Apothecary (IG)

BEAM Collective (Twitter, IG)

Black Girl in Om (Twitter, IG)

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How to support the Black community

Support Black brands, companies, organisations, creators & influencers

250 UK based Black influencers

25 books by Black authors

Replace brands by Black owned businesses

Black Nation App, find Black owned businesses

Black owned wellness brands

Black owned bookstores

Black owned restaurants

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Protests

How to protest

Ways to help protestors if you can’t protest

What to do if you’re stopped and searched (app)

Public Health Experts Say the Pandemic Is Exactly Why Protests Must Continue, by Shannon Palus

---

Donate

Donate even if you have no money: List of YouTube videos loaded with ads, all ad revenue goes towards various BLM organisations. Idea started by Zoe Amira, who posted an hour long video on YouTube with art and music by Black creators.

Black Lives Matter (Twitter, IG): Aims to eradicate white supremacy and build local power to intervene in violence inflicted on Black communities by the state and vigilantes.

Reclaim the Block (Twitter, IG): Organizes Minneapolis community and city council members to move money from the police department into other areas of the city’s budget that truly promote community health and safety.

The Bail Project (Twitter, IG): Provides free bail assistance to low-income individuals who are legally presumed innocent, and whom a judge has deemed eligible for release before trial contingent on paying bail.

National Bail Funds Network (Twitter, IG): Produces tools and resources for organizers using community justice tactics to creatively tackle multiple drivers of criminalization and incarceration— including, but not limited to, money bail, court fees and fines, probation and parole, pretrial detention & supervision, and immigration detention & supervision.

Unicorn Riot (Twitter, IG): Decentralized, educational, non-profit media organization of artists and journalists. Dedicated to exposing root causes of dynamic social and environmental issues through amplifying stories and exploring sustainable alternatives in today’s globalized world.

Know Your Rights Camp (Twitter, IG): Aims to advance the liberation and well-being of Black and Brown communities through education, self-empowerment, mass-mobilization and the creation of new systems that elevate the next generation of change leaders.

Fair Fight (Twitter, IG): Promotes fair elections, brings awareness to the public on election reform, advocates for election reform at all levels, and engages in other voter education programs and communications.

Black Visions Collective (Twitter, IG): Envisions a world in which ALL Black Lives Matter and aims to develop Minnesota’s emerging Black leadership to lead powerful campaigns.

Campaign Zero (IG): Aims to limit police interventions, improve community interactions, and ensure accountability.

Loveland Therapy Fund for Black Women & Girls (IG): Aims to bring opportunity and healing to communities of color, and especially to Black women and girls.

Black Earth Farms (IG): Grow, harvest, and deliver nutrient dense and chemical free food to low-income, houseless, and food desert communities.

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Petitions

Justice for George Floyd (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Ahmaud Arbery (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Breonna Taylor (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Tony McDade (x) (x) (x)

So many more petitions here

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Why the police needs to be defunded

Defund the Police (petition)

Email template to defund LAPD

Building A Police-Free Future

What Happened When A White Cop Decided Not To Shoot A Black Man, by Joe Sexton

Slave Patrol and the Origins of Policing, by Jacki Iyamah

The Racist Roots of American Policing, by Connie Hasset-Walker

Justices Rule Police Do Not Have a Constitutional Duty to Protect Someone, by Linda Greenhouse

Why the officers fired for the George Floyd killing could ultimately get their jobs back, by Sam Levin

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Educate yourself

Free Black History Library, created by Charles Preston

Anti-Racism Resources, compiled by Sarah Sophie Flicker and Alyssa Klein

Anti-Racist Resource Guide, created by Victoria Alexander

Pride started with ‘revolutionary riots’, by Tim Fitzsimons

Articles:

Being Black in Britain: The Civil Rights Movement They Never Taught You in School, by Jasmine Botchey

Uncovering the brutal truth about the British empire, by Marc Parry

Why People of Color Need Spaces Without White People, by Kelsey Blackwell

When is the last time you saw a white person killed online?, by Alia E. Dastagir

In Defense of Looting, by Vicky Osterweil

Fiction Books:

The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison

The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas

Harbor Me, by Jacqueline Woodson

Non-Fiction Books:

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou

The Fire Next Time, by James Baldwin

Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates

Don’t Touch My Hair, by Emma Dabiri

Women, Race, & Class, by Angela Y. Davis

White Fragility, by Robin DiAngelo

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race. by Reni Eddo-Lodge

Ain’t No Black in the Union Jack, by Paul Gilroy

How To Be An Anti-Racist, by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped from the Beginning, by Ibram X. Kendi

Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Teacher Got Wrong, by James Loewen

My Grandmother’s Hands, by Resmaa Menakem

So You Want to Talk About Race, by Ijeoma Oluo

The Color of Law, by Richard Rothstein

How To Argue With A Racist, by Adam Ruther-Ford

Me and White Supremacy, by Layla F. Saad

Black Minded, by Michael E. Sawyer

Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria, by Beverly Tatum

Documentaries:

The 13th

Explained: The Racial Wealth Gap

Time: The Kalief Browder Story

Who Killed Malcolm X?

What Happened, Miss Simone?

I Am Not Your Negro

The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson

The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution

16 Shots

Crrime + Punishment

Afro (German)

Wit is ook een kleur (Dutch)

Trop noire pour être française (French)

Films:

If Beale Street Could Talk

American Son

Just Mercy

Selma

Loving

Series:

Self Made

When They See Us

Dear White People

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Talk about race with children

Children see things differently

BBC Bitesize lesson on racism

Resource Roundup

They’re Not Too Young to Talk About Race

31 children's books to support conversations on race, racism and resistance

Diverse kids’ books

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Don’t stay silent.

#blm #black lives matter #black lives matter resources

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nobelmemories · 3 years

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More Nobel Memories

Along The Nobel Road

Part XI

Some time has passed since I last contributed any stories or memories for your enjoyment. Recent articles I have read have encouraged me to do so. It must be remembered that my memories are mine and although they might not be totally accurate they are as I remember and perceive them.

I always have to laugh when I think of my mother’s stories. One thing I always believed was that my mother would not lie. However? She lived to be a month short of 95 years and chose to leave on her terms. In her mind, people had started living forever, and she didn’t like it. She did not retire from nursing until she was 69 yrs. In her later years she did a lot of travelling. She travelled to England where she was born and visited Buckingham Palace and seen the changing of the guard. She also went to Rome and visited the Vatican square and seen the Pope address his flock from his balcony. She travelled to many other countries as well. I remember one day, after retiring she told me she would really like to travel but did not want to spend her money. My reply to her was: No don’t travel, save your money because when you pass Deane and I are going to have a ball. For some reason she started travelling shortly afterwards. The stories kind of changed in the last year or so of her life. She had particular stories that would be triggered by the time of day of some other daily event. The story about visiting Buckingham Palace became when I met the Queen. The trip to Rome involved an audience with the Pope. Now I have long realized that this is normal and happens as we age and when we change the story slightly this is just normal. It is real and true in this storyteller’s mind. So be forewarned. I will be 85 years in just a few months.

Champlain’s Cup

Both Nobel and Parry Sound lie within McDougall Township. There are so many historical things that have happened here that we are all part of. One story that my dad first told me about involved the Little family who had a farm in McDougall Township off the Hurdville Road. There are many of their descendants living in McDougall and Mckellar and Carling Townships to this day. The old Little farm was located on Trout Lake. It was part of the old Portage Trails the Natives travelled to and from the Georgian Bay and up the Seguin River System. The story as first told to me by my father was that the Little’s had been clearing land when they discovered a cup in the roots of an upturned tree. He referred to the cup as Champlain’s Cup. In years since then I have been told that Nathaniel Little found the cup in 1870, 23 years before my dad was born. It was in the roots of an up-turned tree. It actually was a bronze French apothecary’s mortar weighing 16 Kg. It bore the date 1636. It would appear that the Mortar was left by some travellers, however I think we can pretty easily rule out Samuel Champlain as he lived between August 17,1567 and December 25, 1635.

It has never been established for sure, just where this Mortar came from, however the following theories have been suggested. The old explorers were known to leave a marker when they discovered a new place or country. The idea was that they could say they were there and could prove it by telling what they had left and where to find it. Such was the case when the astronauts landed on the moon and left the American Flag. As most people realize a mortar and pestle are used to make medicine. There is a mineral in the area that the natives use to grind up and make an ointment to treat skin disease. They passed on many of their secrets to the missionaries. The Missionaries from the Midland area were known to travel up and down the Georgian Bay exploring. One of these persons was a donne’ (a support person to the missionaries), he was a medical doctor from France. His name was Francois Gendron.

The theory was that he either took the mortar with him when he was exploring or retreating from the Iroquois and placed it where it was found. It is also a known that Father Bre’beuf travelled this area in 1645 and visited an area called Tangouaen, which means “In site of the falls or rapids. The place where the mortar was found was on a portage around a waterfalls. NOTE: The forgoing theory was copied from the Internet.

It is said that the Mortar was subsequently purchased from Nathaniel Little by William Beatty who kept it in their company vault. The Beatty family subsequently placed the mortar in the Canadian Museum of Civilization, across the river from Ottawa. This is a little bit of local history that kind of affects all of us. If you are not a Little and have been in the area any length of time you at least know a Little.

The Lumsden’s

James Lumsden was one of the original homesteaders to the Township of McDougall. If one looks at the Guide Book & Atlas of Muskoka and Parry Sound Districts dated 1879 and the maps produced by J. Rogers. You will see that most township maps are laid out having an approximate ¼ mile width, in the Township of McDougall. Those along the shore of Georgian Bay have a broken frontage and are laid out having the length in an East West direction. What became the Lumsden Farm consisted of Lots 3,4,5,6 Concession A. Lot No. 3 bears the name D.L.Corbiere, Lot 4 J. Lumsden, Lot 5 D.E. Corbiere, Lot 6 Jas. Lumsden. The abutting lots to the east run with the length to the north and south. Lots 28 & 29 Concession IX bears the name George Hunt. When I was a very young boy Lots 3 to 6 Concession A were mostly owned by Dave Lumsden, James’s son. While lots 28 & 29 were mostly owned by Arthur Wright. There were some small parcels that were sold to people to build their homes on.

There is a small cemetery located off Nobel Road just to the south side of the Esso property. It is referred to as the Lumsden Cemetery. To get an idea how these Lumsden lots ownership eventually evolved you have to view these markers. One marker was for James Lumsden died February 15,1875 age 63 years Husband of Elizabeth Corbiere. One marker was for Elizabeth Corbiere died September 24,1897 62 years. One marker was James Lumsden son of Elizabeth and James Lumsden died 18 July 1875 age 17 years. There was one marker for Mary E. Wright wife of J.D. Lumsden born 1861 died 1948. There was no marker for J.D. Lumsden however I remember both J.D. (Dave) Lumsden and his wife Elizabeth. Dave was another son of James Lumsden and Elizabeth Corbiere. Just going by my memory, I believe Dave died around the late forties. I think he also is buried in this cemetery. I remember Elizabeth as a small frail lady who had a very kind heart.

I was told that Elizabeth was a sister to Art Wright who owned the farm at the edge of Portage Lake. Art’s house and farm buildings were located to the east of the side road that ran behind the Esso and Tim Horton’s. This was the original road as shown on the old township of McDougall map. Art’s house was approximately where Gary Barager’s house is now. I have faint memories of Art Wright, as being a small wiry man. I don’t remember his wife, although I know my parents talked kindly about her. Art Wright had three fields that he worked. One was between Nobel Road and the old side road where the Esso and Tim Horton’s and the Motel were later situated. One was to the east of the original side road that ran behind the Municipal buildings and Pineridge Drive. It was parallel to the road on the east side down His third field was behind where Gary Barager’s house was a short road towards the water.

In about 1932 my Dad, Sid Crawford purchased five acres from Dave Lumsden. This parcel of land was bound by the old Nobel Road, which lies behind the Municipal buildings on the east, Pineridge Drive on the north, the extension road that lined up with Hammel Ave on the west and the present road going into the Township Office. Highway 69 now Nobel Road cut across this property at an angle on the front corner. Dad built the house that is presently occupied by Lemore Johnston in 1932. There was a summer kitchen on the back of our house. (A shed that was used to cook in when we had warm summer weather.) The kitchen stove was wood heated and had one of those warming closets on top and a tank you filled with water on the right side, It was a Findlay.

I remember the stove well due to a life lesson. One time we were having supper in the dining room. We were served blue berry pie for desert. I think I got it in my head that my brother Deane got a bigger piece of pie than I. At any rate I left the table in anger, stormed out of the house and slammed the door. It was obviously too hard, because the 2’x 2’ glass that was in the upper part of the door kept on going and fell in many pieces all over the kitchen floor.

Now my mother was the disciplinarian in our house. I think I can count on one hand the number of times my father ever laid a hand on me. This time it was a little different. I heard a loud bellow. GARRY GET BACK IN HERE. I walked back into the house, probably a little sheepishly. I had a smirk on my face. I walked right up to Dad and I guess it was a little too much for him. He hit me on the side of the head with an open hand. I did a flip in the air and ended up on the floor in front of the stove. I was a little shook-up, I looked up and all I could see was FINDLAY, which was stamped below the oven. (I have attached a photo so you can remember this lesson whenever you see an old wood-burning kitchen stove.) It was about that time I got my wits about me and decided I had better leave for a time. I write this with tongue in cheek and take full responsibility. I have nothing but love for my dad.

There were two items in that summer kitchen that I remember. One was a coal oil or kerosene stove range. It looked just like the picture I have attached, accept the oil container was clear glass in ours. You would fill the container with oil then turn it upside down into the holder. As you can see there was a little door in the front of the blue chimneys, you would open this door and see a circular wick similar to a lamp wick that you would light. There was a control below the chimney that allowed you to control the wick and thus the heat. I have attached a picture of a stove similar to mothers.

The second thing I remember being in the summer kitchen was an old galvanized rocker washing machine. Mother would usually put the wood stove on to heat the water for washing. She would take the warm water from the copper boiler on the stove and the boiler in the stove for the washing machine. She used Naptha soap, anything that was particularly stained; she would first give a little scrubbing on the washboard. Then put it in the rocker washer. She had a square of bluing that she quite often put in with the white clothes and sometimes boiled them in the copper boiler. Coloured clothes were done separate to whites. Then the handle was rocked until she felt the clothes were well washed. We had an old hand pump in the kitchen from which mother would get the water, pumping it in from the well in our field. She had a stand, which she would put beside the rocker washer and put a large round galvanized tub on. This would be filled with cold water. Once the washing in the rocker washing machine was complete, she would put the clothes through a wooden wringer that attached to the side of the rocker and dropped the clothes into the tub of cold water. They were then rinsed, put back through the wringer again and were ready to be hung on the line. The clothes line was out behind our woodshed and had a 4’ stand she would climb up on. She still liked to use that in the summer time when she was in her 80’s. In the early years she had clothespins that were made out of a single piece of wood, but she eventually had the modern clothespins with a spring in them. I have attached a picture of a rocker washing machine similar to mothers.

Around 1946 father and mother decided to put an addition on the back of the house to replace the summer kitchen. Dad had been a teamster prior to his marriage. He had started working in the logging camps when he was 14 and had made at least ten seasonal trips out west on the Harvest Train. He loved horses and was a friend of Dave Lumsden who had a couple of teams of horses. Dad would quite often look after these animals. He borrowed one of Dave Lumsden’s teams and a scraper. I have a very clear memory of his digging out a hole for the basement of that addition. I have found a picture of a horse drawn scraper that was similar to the one Dad used and have attached it. The one in the picture is missing the handles, which would be in the round tubes you can see in the picture. The teamster would have the reins to the horses crossed behind his neck, one hand controlling each of the handles. He would have the horses move forward with audio messages. Gidup, ( I don’t remember ever hearing get up.) haw or gee, being left or right. He would lift on the handles causing the scraper to dig in and fill the scrapper. He would then push back down on the handles as they moved forward stopping the scrapper from digging in. The horses would move forward or out of the hole where the teamster would give a lift upwards on the handles causing the scrapper to dig in, flip and dump the load of earth. The teamster would then drive the team around in a circle and take the next load of earth out. Dad eventually completed pouring the basement walls and floor. He was raised on a farm in Hurdville and was a rough carpenter. Dad then proceeded to build a story and a half addition that matched the front part of the house. I remember I was around ten that year. I was helping Dad put the shingles on the roof. The second story had a hip type roof at the ceiling line of the first floor, then a vertical wall and the main roof about four feet above that. I was laying shingles on the top roof and Dad was finishing up the hip about a 4’ drop below me. I suddenly started to slide, fell off the upper roof down to the roof that Dad was working on. I just had a pair of pants on but no shirt. As I slid past Dad and went over the edge, he reached out quickly and locked his fingers into the soft flesh of my lower side. I continued off the roof and he held on. I remember hanging there squealing like a pig, for a second or so before he lifted me back up to the level he was at. Dad calmed me down and we continued laying the shingles. Dad proceeded to finish the house then built a complete set of kitchen cupboards without any power tools. In later years when I thought back I was always so proud of him, you see he only had grade three education. His father passed when he was very young and he had six siblings. He assumed the father figure and was the last to marry. He was able to earn his third class Stationary Engineer’s papers and obtained a job in the Power House at CIL, where he worked for 24 years. The biggest regret I have to this day is that I never really expressed to him how very proud I was of what he accomplished in his life. He passed in 1967.

I have attached a picture of my mother and father’s house as it sits today. I am afraid I got a little carried away on my story and will have to continue my memories of the Lumsden’s in my next submission Part XII.

Anyone wishing to read my previous submissions can find them at the following URL: <https://nobelmemories.tumblr.com>

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milkhyuun · 4 years

Note

chenle for the quillstarters prompt!

wikipedia entry: paphiopedilum gratrixianum

〰〰〰〰

[1:13 am]— you first meet prince chenle in the light of september’s first full moon.

it starts with a little nighttime thievery. your mother needed certain herbs for the village apothecary, but a lot of the rarer ones were exclusively grown within the walls of the king’s palace for the use of their royal healer.

every week or so, you’d throw on a hooded cape and sneak into the royal gardens to gather the precious herbs for your mother. not enough for them to notice a difference, but enough to supply your mother for a few more weeks. the royal gardens were usually deserted at nighttime, even of guards. the only thing you needed to do was get over the blind spot of the palace walls. you’d always make it home, scotch-free.

one cool autumn night, however, you make your way through the royal gardens as usual, footsteps silent as you carefully make your steps. your hood is pulled over your head and the cape wrapped warmly around your body. the section where they grew the herbs was on the far side of the royal gardens, opposite of where you’d entered. it was a slight inconvenience, but one easily surpassed.

in the center of the garden, there’s a fountain, with water trickling elegantly from its spout. you often use the sound of the water as a guide in the dimly-lit garden. as you pass by it this time around, however, you suddenly freeze in your tracks.

you’ve spotted see prince chenle kneeling on the edge water fountain, features illuminated faintly by the moonlight. he’s not facing you, but if he’d turn his head to his left, ever so slightly, he’d spot you standing in the shadow of the trees.

you’re suddenly aware of how loud your breathing is. i should turn back now. mother’s supply could probably last a few more days. you swallow, eyes still trained on the boy by the fountain. his focus is on his hands, fidgeting with something you can’t make out. he looks almost ethereal in the pale moonlight, fountain shimmering behind him. it almost makes you step out of the darkness to approach him. almost.

you swallow again and shift your feet slowly.

“i know you’re there.” chenle’s airy voice rings out in the quiet night. you feel your blood turn cold. “you can come out. i won’t tell.”

your mind is spinning now. should i make a run for it? what if it’s a trap? oh, but he seems so genuine…

when he sees you still rooted to your spot behind the tree, chenle continues. “you just need the herbs, right?” your head shoots up to look at him. his eyes have already found their way onto yours, boring into you, with a sparkle not unlike the water behind him. “i see you sometimes, you know. from my bedroom.”

you glance up away from him and, sure enough, you find a window on the second story of the palace, with a direct view of the royal gardens. a thought crosses your mind. why is he always awake so late at night? you shake your head to focus on the matter at hand.

silence ensues. chenle’s staring at you observantly, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but with a small smile gracing his lips. it’s odd. you don’t know what he’s thinking. you glance down at your feet, fiddling with them hem of your cape.

after a while, a brighter smile spreads across chenle’s face. he readjusts his body and pats the spot next to him on the fountain invitingly. your legs seem to have a mind of their own as they take you out of the shade of the tree, closing the distance between you and the prince. you take a seat next to him slowly and take the hood down from your head.

any apology you tried to formalize disippates and all the leaves your mouth is a softly mumbled, “sorry, sire.” your clammy palms stay clasped together tightly in your lap.

you hear a laugh escapes chenle’s lips, and the sound makes your heart flutter. “i already told you! your secret is safe with me.” the trickling of the water behind you continues.

you do everything but look at his eyes. your gaze finds his hands and discover the object encased within his fingers to be a flower with sunset-stained white petals. it’s the same kind as the ones littered around the perimeter of the clearing.

“oh,” he says, noticing your gaze and holding up the flower in his hand. “do you know what these are called?” you shake your head.

“paphiopedilum gratrixianum.” chenle chuckles when he sees the perplexed expression on your face. “but my mother likes to call them starshines.”

you turn your head towards him, slightly intrigued. smiling, he takes the one in his hands and reaches up to gently set it behind your ear. a quiet, surprised gasp escapes your lips and your heart skips a beat.

“they’re pretty, aren’t they?” he whispers, twinkling eyes disappearing behind a soft smile. a feeling washes over you, a feeling that makes your stomach twirl and your heart tumble. a feeling that makes you mirror the smile on chenle’s face.

you leave the gardens that night without the herbs you had originally came for, but instead with a flower tucked behind your ear from a charmingly strange prince.

the next morning, you find a neatly-wrapped package on your doorstep. reaching down to pick it up, you discover it to be the herbs your mother had needed, but in a far more abundant amount than you would usually gather. it was wrapped in thin brown paper with twine tying it together neatly in a bow. you turn it over in your hands but find no note with any indication of the sender.

instead, you find, tucked neatly under the twine, a single stem of the starshine flower.

#quillstarters-entry #chenle #nct #chenle fluff #nct fluff #chenle imagines #nct imagines #chenle timestamps #nct timestamps #ts: zcl fluff #request #haechaaaaaaanssi

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ikeasharksss · 4 years

Text

hi i logged back on after like half a week to tell yall i updated my fic! chapter 4 is out now for Somewhere That's Not Here! it's about sirius, who's family escaped to a deserted island after the Great Wizarding War, escaping to the mainland and becoming friends w/ remus, james, and lily. here's a peak at the latest chapter if yall are interested

“Hey, Sirius, look at this.” Remus was holding a thick book with red lacing, like a spellbook. He had an absentminded grin as he flipped through it. “The Apothecary’s Secrets,” he read. “Merlin, I loved this book as a kid. How did it even get here?” He looked up at Sirius, who just shrugged.

“I never read it.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Sirius shook his head as he flipped through a big book of plant diagrams.

“I don’t read fiction.”

“Oh, sorry, forgot you’re a strictly science bloke.” He shelved the book, but kept his eyes on Sirius. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Okay.”

Remus stepped closer. Sirius didn’t know why- it wasn’t like anyone could be listening. But he stood still, focusing on his diagrams instead of the goosebumps running up his arm. “So were you alone on that island your entire life?”

Sirius shut his book and put it under his arm so he could address Remus. “I have my family: my parents and my brother. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just asking. Did you have any contact with us?”

“Did we have contact with the mainland?” Remus nodded, still looking at him. It was the longest they had looked at each other. “My father would sometimes go to the marketplace for food and books and such, but I never left. Why are you asking?”

Remus stepped back to his original position, a bit of red climbing up his neck. “I just wanted to know. I can help- well, I can try to help you get adjusted, if you’d like.”

Sirius turned his body towards Remus, a familiar feeling of excitement in his stomach. He swallowed before speaking so he wouldn’t sound like a little kid. “That’d be great. Thank you, Remus.”

Remus pulled out a book from the shelf and put it on top of Sirius’ growing pile. “Come, Lily has more books in the shop. Let’s check out.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #wolfstar #wolfstar fic rec #wolfstar fic #my fic #hp #marauders era #marauders

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desertmountainapothecary · 2 years

Photo

If there is only one thought that I hope you take from this it’s that you are enough. When you feel like you are enough, it’s easy to make healthy changes, and they actually feel great, and you want to make even more. It feels frictionless, it makes your actual experience of consciousness so much more enjoyable, and you are worth it. You are worth living a healthier lifestyle, you are worth feeling better, you are worth thinking better thoughts, having a happier life, being at peace with yourself, and having better relationships with people and most importantly yourself. You are worth it and I believe in you!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbtA3uvAhW8

https://desertmountainapothecary.com/blogs/blog/re-starting-your-wellness-journey-re-renewing-your-mind-body-spirit-long-form

#desert #desertmountainapothecary #desert mountain apothecary #will brennan #william brennan #william z. brennan #william z brennan #desert apothecary #desertapothecary #desert wild apothecary #desertwildapothecary #greateful desert #desert roots #desertroots #desert roots apothecary #original desert apothecary

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guileheroine · 4 years

Text

love stings

for @onetruethree for the zutaraang valentine’s exchange over at @zutaraangtastic! i went the sickfic route. i hope you like it! 🦂🧡 (ao3)

Where was he? Aang drew his hand away from his mouth, cracked his knuckles and shot hot air from under. He paced the floor again. Zuko was more than two hours gone. If the secondhand knowledge of desert toxicology he had dug out from the back of his mind, and the books from the Royal library currently strewn over the rug that had corroborated it, were anything to go by, then that didn’t give Katara much time.

The seam of the Spirit World hovered in the periphery of his mind’s eye. That would be the last resort.

Aang silently cursed King Kuei’s stupid penchant for exotic creatures and wished he’d be satisfied with pets that befit his own abject (and more importantly, harmless) dullness. He breathed and planted his feet firmly on the carpet, soothing himself by imagining the tirade Katara would be spiraling on if their positions were switched. Kuei would be in his chambers with his tail between his legs, not tittering defensively as though poisoning your guests was just another Earth Kingdom tradition. Katara would have shut the door in his face much sooner than Aang had.

He supposed it shouldn’t have been a calming image, but it was familiar and predictable and that made its therapeutic value unmatchable somehow.

Now that he thought about it, it was true: it usually was the other way around. Katara was the healer here, and Aang - especially in a moment like this - he was as wide-eyed and foolhardy as the day they met, waiting for her sign.

Suddenly Katara croaked something in her daze, and he rushed to bow over her, as she had him countless times.

“I’m here, Katara.” He gulped. He patted her sweaty forehead. “I’m right here.”

Lucid or not, Katara produced a delirious smile. It was for him - it was that smile. Aang swirled a pinky to entice a cool blow of air over the sting on her arm.

I guess you’re here, too, he thought fondly, relief filtering into a tentative smile of his own, just as Katara asked, “Where am I?”

Where was he? He hardly recognised these noiseless streets. He knew it was a public holiday, but did all of Ba Sing Se fall silent in the day since they’d come up to meet with the King? Gingerly, he stepped into the store, feeling like an intruder.

“Uhm, excuse me. Excuse me, do you have…” Zuko opened his palm to scrutinise the crumpled scrap of notepaper with Aang’s scrawl on it. “Bitter… bitter snail oil? A quarter ounce-”

“Fire Lord Zuko!” exclaimed the young storekeeper, by way of answer. And it was all the answer he got before the boy dropped his gargantuan sack of dried - ginseng root? - and scuttled off. The door to the inner quarters of the shop swung with a noisy creak, before slamming hard behind him. Zuko and the dust puffed in his wake.

Zuko sighed, glancing about. That was... what was it? The third shop? And this time he wasn’t even lucky enough to actually confirm that they didn’t have what he was looking for here. Aang had said two hours, or their best hope would be an arm amputation and an antidote ten times rarer than this one.

If that was possible, Zuko thought ruefully.

Then again, Aang hadn’t been sure. He said he remembered Katara saying once that bitter snake oil was the best general antidote to toxins in arid places, and to dart scorpions in particular, but neither he nor the books the Royal staff found them were certain about the timing. King Kuei’s doctor was on leave for the weekend.

In any case, Zuko had sprinted off - the stammering protests of the staff and his own guard faded by the time he could see the wall of the Inner Ring. Something in Aang sharpened the minute Kuei’s runaway scorpion had stung Katara, and he realised soon he had caught it too; was being sped into action before he knew it, as if he was on the string of some neurotic puppetmaster.

Zuko’s eye caught the dusty signboard some way down the steep curve of the lane. The paint was peeling but he could still recognise the distinct colour of the characters.

An apothecary. He wiped his brow and leapt down the lane.

Five minutes later, he was out on the street again, still empty handed. Only sweet snake oil in there, which sounded more like a poison than an antidote to him. Who knew, though?

That scorpion just had to go for Katara, of all people. If it were anyone but her, they would probably be back lazing in the gardens already as if nothing had happened. Zuko didn’t know a thing about medicinal herbs. Firecress and burnt cumin, that was the extent of it. He had a nurse once who poured some hot potion of it down his throat, and would have topped it off with a solid kick to the backside if he wasn’t the Fire Prince. Nothing like Katara. Well, maybe a bit.

There was that time he caught a chill in Daoshu and was handed some turmeric concoction. He remembered walking behind Aang and Katara with it cupped in his hands, their evening shadows enclosing him, providing just as much succour. Maybe bitter snake oil wasn’t even a thing, and Katara would be laughing at them if she were conscious. He couldn’t help but think of that if, and it settled his stomach like some medicine of its own. Zuko knew without knowing it that Aang was thinking the same as he waited.

He wouldn’t keep him waiting. With the paper in his balled fist, he sped on.

It was hot, and bedsitting was definitely not a strength of Aang’s, even when Katara was the one in the bed. He was dozing along with her, just as delirious now, the heat propelling slow mirages across his line of vision along with the floaters while he gazed out through the window. He saw the pond from this morning, the still water now swirling. The koi with its cavernous mouth. He saw Zuko coming over the brow of the hill.

Wait.

He jerked awake and sprang to the window.

Her vision swam, occluded by strange spots, flitting in and away whenever she ventured to focus, like the fantailed goldfish she was watching in King Kuei’s pond. That was a memory of indeterminable origin, but it definitely was something that had happened. Was it this morning? Yesterday? Katara couldn’t tell.

“...Aang?”

She still couldn’t see, but she was quite sure that the scent of Aang was about. Whatever else she could vaguely sense felt starkly alien, including her own body. She thought she saw a scrap of orange light, or maybe the flash of Aang’s robes.

“Zuko, I think it’s working!”

Something bolted up on her other side, and in a flash Zuko’s arm was around her shoulders. Her eyes opened to a clearing vision. Aang held her forearm in his hand, and it was full of a strange thrum. Gently, he moved his hand into hers and bent to kiss her forehead. Zuko kissed her temple, a clumsy moment where their knocking heads blocked Katara’s vision.

“What’s going on?” she said, feeling pleasantly light under their joint attention.

“You were stung by the King’s dart scorpion.”

“But Aang got the sting out.”

“And Zuko found the antidote.”

She looked between them, their now joined hands on her coverlet. Eyes bright and furrowed, a word away from cooing all over her again. She smiled.

A dart scorpion, eh? She had half a mind to thank it for its service.

#zutaraangexchange #zutaraang #Avatar The Last Airbender #katara #aang #zuko #**#onetruethree

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bubblebuckys · 4 years

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𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Hey guys!

Last year, I bought a book of writing prompts, dog-eared pages that looked interesting, then never gave the book another glance. Recently while cleaning my book shelf, I read through it again, and wrote down the prompts that I thought I would like to write for. I thought it’d be fun to make a list, write stories based on these prompts, and post them here as I go.

Things To Know

I got these prompts from a book, published by Piccadilly (USA) Inc., called Write the Story. They are not of my own creation. Use a prompt if you want! Feel free to tag me because I’d love to read it Words to use included under the prompts I’ll write drabbles or one-shots, but if I like a prompt it may turn full length I’ll most likely be posting out of order

current count: 2/41

Prompts below the cut!

A lunch date gone wrong

words to use: eruption, salad, fire, career, assume, roller skate, draw, promise, full moon, sweet

A journalist crosses the line

words to use: defamation, stroke, reporter, truck, weasel, supermarket, encyclopedia, contemplate, classify, clutch

Two best friends are baristas

words to use: coffee, mole hill, insulation, sneakers, inspire, pencil, embroidery, justify, loveless, pane

A romantic scene in an unromantic place

words to use: blacksmith, tongue, woman, spark, musical, blind, Bible, barbeque, elbow, bundle

The gala event of the season

words to use: cater waiter, suspicious, yawn, architecture, money, switch, imagine, blot, lilac, program

The love of each other’s lives

words to use: piano, fish, store, ceiling fan, bah ave, breathe, describe, irritating, enthusiastically, righteous

A babysitter snoops and finds something unexpected (✓)

words to use: newspaper, cardinal, cotton, document, tiramisu, blackened, prediction, borderline, freedom, female

Circus performers are people, too

words to use: confrontation, clap, coach, zoom, tumbler, clumsy, digestion, letter, giant, whip

A bartender’s best night ever

words to use: airport, appreciate, curve, grumpy, ruthless, record, nerve, acoustics, alarm, expert

A fortune cookie comes true

words to use: numerology, hilarious, dictionary, recycled, brick, ocean, meaningful, garbage, star, origin

Having the boss over for dinner

words to use: cerulean, chair, joyous, meatloaf, pallid, brioche, monthly, thirteen, forehead, video

A camping trip in which no one has ever been camping before

words to use: constellation, ketchup, royal, gear, atmosphere, expand, livid, example, luminous, moonlight

A strange proposition from a stranger

words to use: sequin, luncheon, designer, toolbox, measurement, force, dented, cellular, banish, lock

Fired from a long term job

words to use: guitar, military, aversion, mouse, vertical, crumple, runaway, creation, alphabetize, tablet

Anonymous gifts start arriving at the doorstep

words to use: teenager, camouflage, birch, harmony, rifle, screen door, wrinkle, dive, pick-up, sticker

Something bad is about to happen, but nobody believes the main character

words to use: Andromeda, stop sign, dandelion, iceberg, spectacle, poet, candle lit, keyboard, bumble, robotic

A writer with a noisy neighbor

words to use: dentist, rainbow, explosion, horizon, cactus, palm, Saturday, latte, beets, sample

An alien in disguise among humans

words to use: Aurora Borealis, paint brush, corn field, cluster, lineup, overlook, suspect, bridge, dome, dash

A story that takes place in one room

words to use: petting zoo, handsome, unbound, annoy, weekend, invest, immortal, piglet, cocktail, camp

The main character witnesses a crime

words to use: Christmas, almond, paisley, lion, pipe, scream, fade, French horn, inflate, maple

Tumultuous soulmates are on opposing sides of a conflict

words to use: apothecary, bow tie, ladylike, sprocket, mushroom, scrounge, frenzy, match, oust, prisoner

The best night the main character won’t remember

words to use: Mardi Gras, puzzle, scorpion, shout, ward, cooler, shake, tiger, exhausted, stumble

A child’s dream literally comes true

words to use: high school, captive, portfolio, argyle, witness, fertile, eyebrow, pentagram, thirsty, guidance

Stranded in a foreign city

words to use: baptist, assets, cupcake, showcase, neurology, workaday, pine, cushion, assistant, firmament

A spy on the job

words to use: apostle, kitty, myriad, investment, republic, crimson, flint, postern, original, field

In the middle of a long cold winter

words to use: opera, redeem, razor, lungs, grace, futuristic, tread, vest, milkshake, powder

A famous fictional character in the wrong story

words to use: stock market, serial, tangy, panda, ensemble, salute, average, Venus, boss, knee

The phone rings at 3 A.M.

words to use: guerilla, emerald, careless, traffic, liberate, adolescence, punch, wave, environment, oval

Two people who hate each other have to co-operate

words to use: kidnap, pinstripe, quagmire, lofty, Adirondack, pinky, aftermath, kernel, legacy, fail

The story begins at a funeral

words to use: poker, paramount, earlobe, marrow, epic, upgrade, offshoot, chihuahua, episode, icon

A deal with the devil

words to use: regime, album, torch, lodge, highway, sandy, rune, contract, taken, suit

A blind date

words to use: park bench, manager, beastie, honeydew, justice, manmade, placement, fabric, prevention, basket

A hermit is forced to go to a crowded place

words to use: typewriter, water bottle, lenient, clerk, render, runner, soil, sewn, chauffeur, waterway

A nasty rumor

words to use: Antarctica, candy bar, sympathetic, minister, patrol, commonality, auction, bandage, crush, dive

A lifelong bachelor visiting married friends

words to use: tick tock, factory, zoology, arrest, gaze, broadcast, comb, divorce, flap, harness

A good reason to be afraid of the dark (✓)

words to use: killer whale, depressed, janitor, dye, bargain, fool, heap, kick, praise, quit

Alone on a deserted island

words to use: book review, organism, mermaid, bother, decrease, echo, grimace, inch, march, pump

A divorced couple is stuck together

words to use: twister, specialist, grate, swivel, elk, arise, assertive, torment, zest, solvent

Keeping a promise

words to use: abolitionist, coyote, forbid, gloomy, keen, lesson, genetics, variable, retort, mass

Starting over in a new place

words to use: Dubai, fedora, sienna, befriended, grate, listen, heiress, twinge, mute, charcoal

A hostage situation

words to use: Hawaiian, growl, kazoo, pledge, licorice, karate, lapel, plug, terracotta, trickle

#write the story #piccadilly #piccadillyinc #dya's prompt challenge #prompt challenge #prompts challenge #creative prompts #prompts #drabble #drabbles #one shots #one shot #marvel #marvel characters #ocs maybe

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herbalcompendium · 4 years

Text

A Treatise on Transmutation VIII: Stones of Blood and Communion

A strange yet enjoyable facet of transmutation inhabits the twin isles of Zandalar and Kul Tiras. There, stones of transmutation are not tools for alchemists alone - but stones made and used by the community at large. Transmutational stones are there used more as personal boons and local offerings than tools of alchemy. The base stones of transmutation known to the isle people are largely available at any bustling market, and are carried in many a pocket as an indispensable asset during travel or adventure. Indeed, each village, town, and port boasts its own unique boon to these stones, in quite a clever manner: a village cauldron of transmutation. It is not the alchemist that transfigures the stone, but the cauldron, and thereby the place or community one finds oneself within. Many townships, from industrial to rural, pride themselves immensely on their ceremonial, communal cauldrons of transfiguration. Some have been far brewing longer than the average lifespan of a human, I am told. If one has demonstrated skill in transmutation using the stones and methods above, it should be a grand adventure to procure a market stone and explore the following cauldrons with said stone.

Eternal Alchemist’s Stone - Also called a Market Stone. This is a brilliantly turquoise stone, faintly glowing like shining seaglass. It is a powerful transmutational aide for reagents found on the isle, but is more commonly used for the purposes stated above. These are sold for a gold coin or so in Tradewinds Market or the Zocalo. For the purist and purpose of study, this stone can be transmuted by combining seventy blooms of the herb Winter’s Kiss with an equal portion of the herb Akunda’s Bite. This combination grants the stone its glassy blue hue. To this is then added twenty-five Anchor Weed pods with twenty-five motes of the volatile, sanguine substance Expulsom. This mixture tempers the stone, and grants it the ability to retain power. Finally, it is treated with two hundred motes of a substance aptly named the “Breath of Bwonsamdi”.

This chilly fog of death gives the stone its characteristic, ghostly glow, and allows it to be transfigured to other things with ease when dipped in an Isle Cauldron. This substance sounds like a fable, but then again, a form of transmutational stone owned by no other than Silas Darkmoon is also said to haunt this isle. When traveling in the Twin Islands, it is best to believe everything - especially in rural areas - until given empirical or intuitive proof of falsehood. I did overhear some young man say transmutation is “the only part of alchemy worth learning” while transmuting some isle shrubs to bubbles. This is assuredly false, as I assume the young man will remember when he is no longer a newt in a few hours. The rest of the transmutations listed below can be acquired by simply dipping a Market Stone in an Isle Cauldron with significant intention. Almost any of these stones can be transmuted from another, depending on the intended purpose of the alchemist. The cauldron’s locations, origins, and effects are listed below. I do caution against using most of these without the permission of their owners.Some of the wards placed on these Isle Cauldrons can be quite ... severe.

Sanguinated Alchemist Stone - By far the most dangerous stone to seek. The rusted, foul red brew of this Isle Cauldron seethes in the Blood Troll village of Zalamar, Nazmir. This village houses many hungry Blood Trolls, Crawgs, and the Sanctum of Midnight, the loa Hir'eek's lair. It should go without saying that much blood is freshly brewed in this cauldron. There is speculation of Anchor Weed’s inclusion in this brew, due to its rejuvenating properties. Dipping a Market Stone within this bloody cauldron will transmute it to a glowing, brooding stone of crimson best suited to blood magicks and fleshcrafting.

Emblazoned Alchemist Stone - A proud and kingly stone, arising golden and bejeweled from a spectacular cauldron in the Zocalo of Dazar’Alor. The Zandalari take great pride in this cauldron, the brew inside ancient and the recipe closely guarded. This terra cotta and golden cauldron is easy to spot, for the brew within is a liquid gold and steams like glowing fireflies into the night sky. Market Stones are often transmuted here by artisans, as they are quite useful in both the cutting and transmuting of precious metals and gems. This cauldron is rumored to be powered by something called a Sanguicell, used for radical experimentation within the cursed halls of Uldir.

Imbued Alchemist Stone - Whomever first put a Market Stone into this cauldron must have received quite a fright. It is a small, dark, and unassuming iron object nestled deep within the tree Gol Inath. This hallowed tree, located in the Crimson Forest of Drustvar, was worshipped by the ancient Drust. It is rumored to hold a path to the Shadowlands within its depths. Upon dipping a stone into this cauldron, which appears empty, it will be positively surrounded by turquoise light. This light explodes to a volley of screaming souls within moments. If the transmuter screams as well, the stone will turn to a useless lump of coal. If they do not, the stone will become a rounded phial filled with spectral light. This ghostly ichor can be imbibed to heal grievous or minor wounds, and takes only a minute to refill when used.

Spirited Alchemist Stone - Also quite a difficult stone to procure. The cauldron that produces this stone is in the heart of the Temple of Bwonsamdi, Nazmir. It is a recipe only the Temple acolytes know, and should likely remain as such. The liquid inside is an inky black, and will stain the hands for roughly one year if touched. Dipping a stone in this liquid will produce a deeply black stone with an opalescent sheen. This stone is miraculous for communing with the dead, soul magicks, and the transmutation of death, water, and undeath. It should be noted that it is impossible to dip a stone in this cauldron without staining the hands, marking someone as what the Zandalari call a “Blackpalm”. Blackpalms are known to work with death, marking them as ally to some and foe to others.

Tidal Alchemist Stone - This stone can be transmuted in most places Tortollan are found. The great “Mother Cauldron” is found in Little Tortolla, in the city of Dazar’Alor. It is the shell of a great apothecary, seemingly filled with simple seawater. Like all Tortollan innovations, these shell-cauldrons are far more than they first appear to be. When used properly, a brilliant stone of glowing azure is produced, rippling like seawater. This stone may be held in the left palm to take on the form of a Tortollan for an hour or so - which may be a lifesaving act in certain circumstances. Siren's Alchemist Stone - This stone is highly useful for transmuting elemental water, air, and the making of isle potions. It is made from the Cauldron of Storms, a Tidesage cauldron found deep within Stormsong Valley. Specifically, it is in an area called the “Mother’s Mouth” within the Shrine of Storms. In the shrine is a mountain carved into the shape of the Tidemother's face. In her mouth is a barnacle and salt crystal-encrusted cauldron, a deep indigo brew swirling within.

Surging Alchemist Stone - This is a highly useful stone, and perhaps one of the most commonly sought cauldrons. It is transmuted from an Expulsom-rich brew deep in the Prickly Grove of Vol’dun. This Isle Cauldron is Vulpera in origin, brewed in the stump of an ancient barrel cactus. Dipping a stone within the vermillion waters will produce a glassy, warm, and glowing crimson stone. True to its name, this stone brings not a surge of water, but a surge of wind. Using it within the desert or isles will produce a cloud of shrouding sand, transporting the alchemist to somewhere safe and elevated nearby. Similar stones are said to exist amongst the tribes of Tanaris and Uldum. Interestingly enough, the realm of Nazjatar reportedly has similar methods for the making of their own transmutational stones. They are apparently not dipped within cauldrons, but uniquely tempered pools within the water’s depths and enhanced with naga machinery and power cores. Some of the oceanic herb Zin'anthid was brought back by those that delved below, now used in the following Isle Cauldrons to create the following stones:

Abyssal Alchemist Stone - A smooth, silky blackish-purple stone brought back from Nazjatar in droves. These plentiful stones were used as enormous freshwater pearls along the Isles until their true purpose was discovered. Suffice it to say: this stone should not be taken on a cursed ship if one likes being alive. Use, aside from plummeting ships to the depths of the ocean, is unknown. Isle superstition now makes these hard to sell amongst merchants, but some are used as display pieces or sold as trinkets.

Crushing Alchemist Stone - Formed by dipping an Abyssal Alchemist stone in the Mugambala’s Tidepool Cauldron. This cauldron is stationed in the Mugambala to specifically prevent certain individuals from forming this stone, as its properties are tenuous understood at best by the Zandalari. The warriors of the Mugambala seem to enjoy using this stone as a battle focus to strangle naga in an instant, and turn murlocs to ash. It shows promise as a weapon of war.

Ascended Alchemist Stone - An arrogant name given by an arrogant, seafaring ruler that shall remain precisely unnamed. This stone is rumored to be formed by dipping an Abyssal Alchemist Stone in a cauldron somewhere deep within Proudmoore Keep, with predictably disastrous results. It is perhaps more unwisely sold at market as a “cleansed” version of the Abyssal stone. Looking at the properties of the stone, it seems to mirror the alchemical properties of Azerite usage on a potion. Strangely, when placed near a vein or portion of Azerite, the stone will draw it inward before violently expelling it back towards the ground.

#transmutation #isles #island #zandalari #kultiran #Blood #ocean #shaman #elemental #fresh water #NAGA

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pineaberry · 5 years

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Fictober 2019: #9

STARRING: Malavai Quinn, Sana Rae, and Pierce Cameo

For @sunsetofdoom who inspired this and @fluffynexu my newest foodie friend!

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Odessen was a temperate planet. Granted there were extremes at the poles and a few smatterings of deserts and savannas but for the most part, the temperature was cool and dry especially around the Alliance’s mountain base. For Malavai -accustomed to the humidity of Dromund Kaas and muggy basins on Balmorra- the climate required a thicker set of underclothes but it was perhaps the first time he found his full military attire to be comfortable. It was a feeling he knew was shared by the vast majority of Imperial personnel on the base. Even so, occasionally they would spot an Ortolan or Kaleesh alliance member parading around half-naked and complaining about the heat. He supposed Oddessen’s cool breezes could feel searing to a creature accustomed to icy the hells of Hoth and Illum.

Regardless, Odessen and all its quirks felt different. After surviving -and recruiting- Arcann, after toppling Vaylin, after overcoming Zildrog and their ilk… Odessen now felt like home. Malavai ruminated on the fact every morning as he prepared himself for the day. Unlike the Imperial Fleet or even Dromund Kaas, there was an ease to every member that was not defined by social protocol or rank. They had all adapted, shifted and coalesced into something greater than its parts.

He sat in the mess hall every morning surrounded by people he would have considered filth and scoundrels less than a year ago. It felt almost a lifetime had passed since he’d railed against the spectre of the Republic. The initial faction wars now seemed so petty and pointless in the grand scheme of things. Trust and peace was achievable. Just this morning he’d shared his schematics with a Jedi Consular who provided input and suggested improvements on his designs.

Perhaps he was simply biased in favor of the Alliance considering he was married to the commander but even after joining with the Empire on Ossus once more, he couldn’t imagine falling back into his previous existence.

While still occasionally fraught with peril, his life had now at long last settled into a comfortable existence. A peace he had never known before had come to settle over him. In between caring for his wife and managing her alliance, Malavai found he had plenty of time to nurture his mental health.

That was always an odd phrase to hear. Mental health.

The Empire could boast top hospitals and the latest in surgical technology, but unless someone had a concussion Malavai had never considered the mind as anything requiring treatment. It was certainly a perk if one could acquire such a thing, but more often than naught, psychiatric help in the field came in the form of telling a soldier to grow some balls before pumping them full of stims and sending them back into the fray.

The Empire was sustained by loyalty and duty, but much of the time that meant loyalty and duty to the Sith not the other way ‘round. There were rare cases to be sure, but for the most part, Imperials were second class citizens. His mental state never would have mattered. It hadn’t mattered for a very long time. Like most he self-medicated with alcohol or stims or even crude blends of Spice when there was nothing else available. He hadn’t mattered, not until…

Malavai’s brow furrowed as he stared at his datapad.

Until Lord Tremas had found him on Balmorra. From that moment on he’d started to be significant. After she came into his life no one could touch him, not generals, not moffs, not even Sith. He was more important than any of them because she willed it so and with it, his mind and troubled thoughts became important too. All of a sudden he became aware of things such as psychological conditions and traumas. The blinders he’d operated under fell away and he could understand as the Sith healers understood. Imperials were purposely kept in the dark but Sith… Sith healers understood the mind better than any Jedi.

And so the phrase mental health became a part of his vernacular. He learned to understand it, not as the weakness it was proclaimed to be within the barracks, but as a part of a soldier’s medical condition. A clean bill of health had so much more meaning now. So it was that at the insistence of his Sith healer, Malavai acquired a hobby meant to relax him.

“Major Quinn, I have acquired the plants I had suggested for your garden.”

Malavai’s gaze flickered up to see Sana-Rae and a Mirialan Jedi padawan taking a seat next to him. A few years ago, such an action would have brought him to the brink of violence. Now, he was willing to hold polite conversation.

“The Odessen climate is nearly identical to my own home planet of Voss. I had one of Hylo’s pilots make a stop to pick up a few crates of bulbs.”

“Makin’ a pretty flower garden, Quinn?” Pierce teased as he sauntered in.

“You have my thanks. I’ve been having minimal success with local flora, but I’m having trouble with Grand Moff Vaiken,” Malavai ignored the jibe before switching screens on his datapad and showing the results to Sana-Rae.

Pierce’s brow furrowed as the words Malavai had spoken made absolutely no sense.

“Perhaps the sunlight is inadequate,” the padawan suggested.

“I don’t believe so, Grand Moff Kilran nearly died from heat over exposure, but General Hesker is stable and they’ve begun to build nurseries,” Malavai zoomed in on a picture on his datapad.

By that time, a collection of Imperial alliance members had begun to gather round and make a large fuss about eating breakfast and not eavesdropping.

“Oh is that jar all you could get out of General Hesker?” the padawan asked and there was a moment of stunned silence as the table stared at a jar in the middle of the table the contents of which they had all slathered on their morning toast.

“I’m reticent to take any more, the consequences could be lethal.”

“I am sure a little more will not hurt, I would like to have some for my apothecary if you can spare it,” Sana Rae mused.

“Well it’s not like I can milk it out of-”

There was a clatter of silverware and the trio looked up to see a silently horrified group of Imperials promptly get up and very professionally incinerate their breakfast. Only Pierce remained glaring at his morning mush as though expecting an explanation to be forthcoming. He was not disappointed.

“What’s gotten into them?” the padawan asked.

“Perhaps they do not like Odessen honey,” Sana Rae replied patiently though she was equally confused.

“There is a certain taste to it,” Malavai agreed without looking up.

He zoomed out of the image in his datapad to reveal a photo of a flower garden. In the middle were three beehives, their names painted in gold lettering: The Voidstar, The Scream of Ragnos, and The Maelstrom. Next to the image was a smaller more intricate diagram of a queen bee captioned simply as “Grand Moff Vaiken”.

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Original Fictober Promp List HERE!

#Malavai Quinn #SWTOR #Post Ossus #Sana Rae #Major Pierce #Fictober 2019

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sam-scribbler · 5 years

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Meet My WIP - Onnerat

(Title subject to change)

Onnerat is a medieval/post-apocalyptic epic fantasy following the struggles of the young, troubled Husana Najjar and the surly soldier Shula Al-Amin as they work to stop the powerful mage Mi Yinying from destroying the world - again. Full of sprawling worldbuilding, magic, found family, polyam shenanigans, and vibrant characters with complex motivations. Oh, and dragons.

Characters

Oh my god there are so many please save me from this hell

Husana Najjar - a 23-year-old apothecary and the survivor of a horrifically abusive mother. Her father, who sold her soul to her mother, is the original Nightmare, a primal manifestation of humanity’s darkest fears. Husana, however, has always been a force for good - she’s been reincarnated many times throughout history, whenever someone makes a deal with Nightmare, and every time she tries her best to do good. This is her twentieth reincarnation - not that she has any idea.

Mi Yinying - a ten thousand year old Chinese woman. Born around 600 AD, Mi travels the world as a saleswoman, making a modest living peddling goods and secrets to the magical communities around the globe. In 2030, her adopted daughter - Husana Najjar - was murdered by the Pakistani military. Fueled by grief, rage, and fourteen hundred years of powerful magic, Mi brought the nightmares of humanity to life. The world ended, rose, ended, and rose - all the while, Mi slept, her magic worn down to the smallest trickle that kept her (just barely) alive.

After she woke, she watched the world. Empires rose and fall as she walked the dusty roads, carrying her goods on her back. And then - she found her daughter again.

Murdered.

Again and again.

The Haelena Empire crumbled to dust. The Han-Teng Empire was devastated by a magical plague. The seas boiled, the coastline reshaped by the intense waves of heat. Entire countries sank into the sea wherever Husana Najjar breathed her last breath and Mi wailed her grief with blood and fire. As far as she knows, the last incarnation of her beloved daughter died thirty years ago.

Shula Al-Amin - a 41-year-old warrior of the Faith, a high-ranking member of the Order of the Steel Flower – tasked with defending the Faith and its members from the dream-world. Once, she was Mi Yinying’s right-hand woman - but with the rise of the Inquisition, Shula has rejected the old mage’s mission and now seeks out a way to stop the path of destruction Mi is carving through the world.

Setting

Onnerat was once the world as we know it, but over ten thousand years, much has changed. The world has ended over and over again, and many wonders of technology have been lost. Wars are fought with swords and axes, not machine guns. The world of dreams is very real and it clings to reality like a second skin, separated only by the thinnest barrier of magic. Mages live among us, squatting in battered hovels for the privilege of serving their liege-lords.

To the north, the Westerling Clans and the Skripi warriors fight and trade for resources. In the east, the last vestiges of the Han-Teng empire cling to the earth, looming over the city states on their western border and the twin kingdoms of Jalsahra and Sekelakhah in the hot southern deserts. It is not a kind world - but there is kindness in it nonetheless.

#meet my wip #onnerat #fantasy wip #writeblr #writeblr wip

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