#calburn

[bobbie-robron]

Not what it looks like. So if you mean that, you’re gonna have to prove it. You owe us. I’ll be in touch. (Part 2)

The coppers follow Andy back to the farm. They had been given the heads up he drank too much at the pub and with him driving fast… they need to breathylize him. The final scene is in the evening. Andy shows up at the Sugdens to let them know what happened to him. He only had one pint but his alcohol rating was high… hmm. Jimmy meets Jimmy outside… he is not a happy camper over Andy being free. Step up, Robert!

27-Jul-2005

[bluefuecoco]

i was reseting for a sylveon or eevee outbreak, and i got a ditto outbreak! which SUCKS!!! this is an AWFUL hunt, i absolutely hate it! but i want that blue blob

[caprin-fishie]

My Emerald dragon Calburne

When he grows up he’ll be and adventurer

[azvolrien]

Backup

Haven't checked in with the Stormhaven crew for a little while now, have I? I'm still fond of them, though.

I like worldbuilding. You likely know this, if you've been following me for any significant length of time. But I often find myself drawn less to the big things like government and religion and more to the smaller details of the characters' day-to-day lives.

Such as contraceptive implants, apparently.

---

“They’re a fairly promising batch this year,” said Rhona as they walked. “I’ll be interested to see how many manage to stick it out to master-level.”

“Yeah, same among the Constructist lot,” said Calburn. “Think I expected a few more of the senior apprentices to stay on as journeymen, but the ones we’ve got… Yeah, I think they’ll do pretty well. What’re the power levels like among the new Healers?”

“Quite high. They can all pour a lot of energy into a working before they start to feel its loss. But the flip side of that is that they can all stand to work on precision.” Rhona shook her head. “Put too much energy into healing and you have a recipe for adhesions, which isn’t pleasant to deal with for anyone concerned.” They walked on in silence for a few seconds before Rhona spoke again. “While we’re talking about journeymen – what’s the name of that one new Constructist? The tall one, dark hair.”

“With the glasses? That’s Shaun. He doesn’t really go in for grown constructs, but I think he’ll shape up to be one of the best we’ve had in years where built ones are concerned.” Calburn paused in consideration. “At least, if we can get him to stop making them all look unnecessarily creepy.”

“I’m sure there are some customers out there his designs will appeal to,” said Rhona, “but I’ve been asked to inform you – ‘you’ meaning the School of Constructs in general – that if he steals any more animal skeletons from the anatomy collection to use as components, he’ll be helping out at our next dissection lecture.” She gave a rather strained smile. “I’m sure nobody wants a repeat of the Lynx Skull Incident.”

“Aw, come on. We managed to catch the construct before anyone got hurt.” Rhona raised her eyebrows. “Seriously hurt,” Calburn amended. “But… Yeah, I take your point. I’ll pass the message along.”

They turned left onto Full Moon Crescent, Mostol following loyally behind his master without being led by the reins. The big, bison-like construct’s packsaddle was laden with a hefty wicker hamper strapped on each side and a third balanced along his spine, but he didn’t even seem to notice the weight. When they reached Number 26, Calburn reined him in with only a gesture and he came to a halt, standing patiently at the end of the path while Calburn and Rhona walked up to the front door. Rhona frowned; the usually cheerful flowers in the pot by the door were looking distinctly wilted. She folded her hands behind her back as Calburn gave the bell-pull a yank.

At first, there was no reply. They shared a glance. More than a minute went by with no response from inside the house, not even a shouted acknowledgement. Calburn had just reached out for the bell-pull again when, finally, signs of life sounded behind the door: footsteps against a wooden floor, not quite moving at a jog but certainly at a brisk pace, and then a dull thump that strongly suggested someone had slammed into the door. The lock clicked as a key turned and, finally, the door opened.

“Gods,” said Rhona after a moment of stunned silence. “You look awful.”

“Thank you, Rhona, you always know just what to say,” said Wygar, only a little out of breath. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy this last week.” His eyes were both extremely bloodshot and deeply shadowed, with a wild look in them that suggested he was either about to break down in tears or set something on fire.

“When was the last time you washed your hair?” asked Calburn, wide-eyed. Wygar’s three-foot-long red mane, usually immaculately clean and tied in a neat ponytail at his nape, had taken on a greasy, dishevelled look, and the strip of cloth trying to exert some control had slid halfway down his back. From the visible stubble on his chin, it had also been a good few days since the last time he shaved.

Wygar slumped against the door-frame, bowing his head. “I think… not since… Before. Everything.” He sighed. “I’ve had quite a lot on my plate.”

“Well!” Calburn squared his shoulders and rolled up his sleeves. “Good thing you’ve got us here for backup now, then.” He jabbed a thumb back towards Mostol. “Present for you both, from everyone back up at the College. Got more than a week’s worth of food packed up on Mossy’s back, the bulk of which doesn’t even need cooked and the rest won’t need more than a quick heating-up in the oven or on the stove, so you won’t need to worry about going to the market or cooking anything too complicated for a few days at least.”

“Plus some clean clothes from your emergency stash in your rooms,” added Rhona. “Haven’t your parents been helping out?”

Wygar sighed again. “When they can. But that still leaves plenty of time when they can’t. And besides, they don’t know any more about really newnewborns than we do – I was already a month old when they adopted me.” He smiled, which somehow only made his exhaustion more apparent. “Thank you. Both of you. All of you. Bring it all in and I’ll heat the kettle for some tea.”

Calburn nodded and lifted the first hamper from Mostol’s saddle. “I think you could use it more than we do.”

“You are… not wrong.” Wygar helped them carry the hampers through to the kitchen before he waved them back to the living room, having entrusted Calburn with a teapot. A minute later, he followed with a copper kettle slung over one wrist, a metal stand under the same arm, and three mugs hooked onto the fingers of his other hand. Without speaking, he set the stand up on the small tiled section in the middle of the otherwise wooden coffee table, placed the kettle on top, and just stared at it until it began to whistle as the water boiled.

“Where’s Fayn?” asked Rhona as Wygar poured the water into the teapot.

“Upstairs,” he said. “Sleeping. She…” He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “She lost a lot of blood. It’ll… It’ll probably be a while yet before she’s herself again.”

“And our new niece?” said Calburn.

“She’s not your niece,” Wygar pointed out.

“Oh, shush. I’m gonna be ‘Uncle Calburn’ and you know it.”

“Yes, that was probably inevitable,” said Wygar. He smiled. “Also sleeping. She’s in the basket there.”

“Oh!” Calburn finally noticed the small wicker cradle on the floor beside the hearth. “Should we stop talking?”

“Just don’t shout and you’ll be fine. She’s a pretty heavy sleeper unless she wants something, we’ve found.”

Calburn slid off the couch and shuffled towards the basket on his knees for a closer look. “She is so cute,” he cooed, clasping his hands under his chin. “Her little tufty hair! And those tiny ears!”

Rhona leant over his shoulder, her own expression more one of academic disinterest. “Hm. Yes, that’s definitely a baby.”

“You can hold her later, if you like,” said Wygar.

“Ooh, can I?” said Calburn, grinning hugely.

Rhona wrinkled her nose. “Offer again once she’s old enough to converse with.”

“Yes, I thought those might be your respective reactions,” said Wygar, smiling. He sighed and bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between both forefingers. The smile disappeared. “There’s something else I need to ask you both.” Rhona gestured for him to do so. “It was… it was a difficult birth. There were complications. Like I said – Fayn lost a great deal of blood. If the Healers hadn’t acted as quickly as they did to give her an emperor’s cut, she could have lost too much.” He looked up, his eyes brimming. “We can’t take that risk again. We just – we can’t.”

“What do you need?” asked Rhona.

Wygar sniffed, blinking back his tears, and reached inside the collar of his shirt to draw out his anti-fertility charm on its chain around his neck. “You two made this for me, all those years ago.”

“And the enchantment’s still holding?” said Calburn, tearing himself away from Una and retreating back to the couch.

“Yes, as strong as it ever was. But – I need something more permanent.”

Calburn crossed his legs uncomfortably.

“Not that permanent,” said Wygar, exasperated. “But – a new charm. The same essential enchantment. But smaller, small enough to put inside my arm or somewhere. So that there’s no chance, none whatsoever, of my accidentally misplacing it or absent-mindedly leaving it off one night.”

Rhona rubbed her chin, nodding. “Have you discussed this with Fayn?”

“Yes, of course I have.”

“Let me see the old one for a moment.” Wygar nodded and dropped the charm into her outstretched hand. She held it up to her eyes to inspect it more closely. “Hm. Cal – is the actual type of metal important for holding the enchantment?”

Calburn shook his head. “Tougher metals are better, but not really beyond that. Easy enough to scale it down a bit – we’re both a lot better in our fields than we were when we made that thing.”

“And this is… what metal did we use?”

“It’s just steel,” said Calburn.

“Steel, right.” Rhona handed the charm back to Wygar. “If you want it implanted, we’ll need to use a different metal,” she said. “Something inert – something that won’t rust away and poison you from the inside out.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” said Wygar.

“I’m not certain the arm is the best place for it, though,” Rhona went on. “Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard. You’ll want it implanted somewhere it won’t bother you, yes? Then take off your shirt so we can get a better idea of where to put it.”

Wygar sighed, but did as he was told and pulled his shirt off over his head, then stood up and held both arms out wide.

“You haven’t been eating properly,” said Rhona, prodding at the hard bump where his collarbone met his shoulder. It visibly stuck out more than usual. “You’ve lost muscle mass, and you had little enough body fat to begin with.”

“Yes, well, now that we’ve established that…” said Wygar through gritted teeth.

“I saved your life,” said Rhona. “I have a vested interest in seeing that my work doesn’t go to waste.”

“When!?”

“Hmm, not sure,” said Rhona acidly, gripping his upper arm in one hand and roughly turning him around to study his back. “Probably that time you had your lung skewered by a crossbow bolt.”

“Ah. Then.”

“Indeed. In fact, your heart had stopped, so by some standards I may have brought you back from the dead.”

“Rho, I know this is just how you show you care, but is now really the time to be telling the poor guy off?” said Calburn. “He’s in no fit state to give as good as he gets.”

“…Thanks,” said Wygar.

Rhona sighed. “Sorry,” she said, rather grudgingly. Frowning, she pressed the pad of her thumb against his back, just below his shoulder and a little to the left of his spine. “Here, I think,” she said. “If we shape it to lie flat against the shoulder blade, you shouldn’t be able to feel it. And your tattoos will make a useful marker for remembering where it is, if we ever need to remove it again.”

“All right,” said Wygar slowly. “Can I put my shirt back on now?”

“Cal, what do you think in terms of metals?” Rhona went on. “Gold, maybe? That’s inert.”

“Too soft,” said Calburn, shaking his head. “Gold’s all right for a conduit if it’s plated onto a stronger metal, but you need something tougher for a really long-lasting enchantment. Hm-hm-hm.” He steepled his fingers, narrowing his eyes in thought. Rhona handed Wygar back his shirt without speaking and they both watched Calburn expectantly. “Trying to think through what all we have in the material stores up at the workshops,” he explained to fill the silence. “Hmm.” Another pause. “Eversteel,” he finally said after about a minute. “It’s strong, it’s light, it doesn’t rust, and we’ve got a few bars in storage. Slice off a bit the size of a coin, forge it into the right shape, etch in the right runes – perfect.”

Wygar pulled his shirt back on and sat down. “How soon do you think you can manage it?”

“Couple days?” said Calburn. “It’s not that complicated an enchantment. We’ve actually got a nice little sideline making the pendant charms to sell, so we’ve got the basic process down pretty smooth now. Physically shaping the metal’ll likely take longer than the enchanting itself.”

“Huh! Do I get a share for having been your lab rat all these years?”

“…No,” said both Calburn and Rhona after a thoughtful silence.

“Hmph.”

Una stirred in her basket, tugging on the blankets, and began to wail at the top of her voice.

“Good set of lungs on her, anyway,” said Rhona, grimacing, as Wygar heaved himself back to his feet with a grunt of effort.

“At least it makes it easy to hear when she wants something,” said Wygar, and scooped her up from among the blankets. “C’mere, sweetheart. You need changed? All right, let’s get you cleaned up.” A fresh nappy did not significantly console her. Wygar sighed and carried her back through to the living room. “Hungry, then?” he said wearily, rocking to and fro in place on the couch as the still-screaming Una squirmed in his arms. “Well, I’d hoped to let your mama have a bit more sleep, but I suppose needs must…”

There was a hollow thunk from upstairs as the attic trapdoor opened, then a creak of wood as footsteps moved downstairs and the living room door swung open.

Fayn didn’t look a lot better than her husband. Her skin, always pale, was almost as white as her hair, and however much rest she was getting, it clearly wasn’t enough to dispel the shadows around her eyes or the exhausted tremor in her hands.

“You heard her, then,” said Wygar with a rueful smile. “I was just about to bring her up to you.”

Fayn gave a half-hearted wave with one hand and sat down heavily beside him, letting her head loll backwards to rest on the back of the couch. “Not many with better hearing than me,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment. “And I was only half-asleep anyway.” She wriggled into a slightly more upright position and shrugged off one shoulder of both her dressing gown and her nightdress. Calburn politely averted his eyes. “Give her here, then.”

Wygar carefully passed Una into her arms and hugged her in against his side. “How does the incision feel?” he asked, resting the tips of his fingers on her belly. “No pain in the scar?”

“No more than expected,” said Fayn. She glanced over at their guests and lifted her chin slightly in acknowledgement. Calburn still wasn’t looking at her, but Rhona returned the nod. “Did he ask you about making a new charm for him?”

Rhona nodded again. “We should have one ready in a couple of days.”

“Good.” Fayn smiled down at Una. “I do love this weird little creature, really,” she said, stroking the weird little creature’s soft wisps of red hair, “but once was enough.”

“‘Weird little creature’?” said Wygar, raising an eyebrow.

“Like father, like daughter, wouldn’t you say?”

“Cheeky!” Wygar gave her a little jostle.

Rhona cleared her throat. “If you’re finished flirting,” she said, “we will need to take him up to the College to implant it, since you probably don’t want us messing around with scalpels in your kitchen.”

“Oh. That’s a good point, actually,” said Wygar.

“I think I can manage without you for a few hours,” said Fayn.

“Well, have a think about when suits you best,” said Calburn, inspecting the ceiling. “Rho, think we should go and get started with the metal?”

“I’m not going anywhere until I see these two eat something,” said Rhona.

Wygar sighed and got up to fetch a couple of packets from one of the hampers.

“Actually,” said Fayn, a little apologetically, “if you don’t have anywhere to be urgently, there are a few chores around the house we could use your help with…”

The few chores turned up several more that had fallen by the wayside, and it was well into the evening by the time Calburn finally opened the front door and walked back to where Mostol still waited patiently at the gate.

“Has he been blocking the pavement all afternoon?” asked Wygar, leaning on the door-frame. Behind him, Fayn peered briefly out into the street, nodded a farewell to Rhona, and carried Una upstairs to put her to bed.

“So it would appear,” said Rhona, folding her arms.

“Yeah, I meant to put him back in his stone once we had the hampers off his back,” said Calburn, climbing up into the riding saddle. “Slipped my mind. You know Mossy – once he’s told to stay put, there’s nothing that’ll move him but me.” He looked back at Wygar. “I’ll swing by again in a couple of days, but give us a shout up at the College if you need a hand sooner, right?” Wygar nodded. “Right. See you back at the College, Rho.”

Rhona took her own construct’s summoning stone from inside the neck of her tunic and held it up for Tyren to materialise.

“I am grateful for your help,” said Wygar as Rhona placed her foot in the stirrup and hefted herself up onto Tyren’s back. “With the charm, and – and with everything else today. If that’s not been coming across properly…” He trailed off, gazing pensively back into the house.

“Wygar.” Rhona grabbed a fistful of his hair and made him look up at her.

“Ow! What the fuck, Rhona?”

“Wygar,” she said again, slightly more gently, and let go of his hair. “We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Seventeen years, almost,” said Wygar, rubbing the top of his head.

“So you know that I take my oaths as a Healer seriously. I don’t go in for false comfort.”

“You don’t go in for comfort in general,” said Wygar drily.

“Which is why you need to listen to me, right now.” Rhona waited until he met her eyes squarely. She sighed, shaking her head, and smiled. “She’s going to be fine. They both are.”

Wygar took a long, shaking breath, held it for a couple of seconds, and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I am quite fond of you, believe it or not,” said Rhona. She tugged on the reins, facing Tyren towards the College. “Remember to eat, or I’ll want to know why next time I check in on you.”

“I’ll try to bear it in mind.”

“Good.” She spurred Tyren into a brisk trot and soon caught up with Calburn and Mostol, just outside the gates of the College.

“Ginger-nut giving you trouble?” asked Calburn, twisting around in the saddle to look at her.

“More the other way around,” said Rhona as they rode through the gates. Outside the main door, she reined in Tyren and slid down from the saddle. “Come on, then,” she said, and cracked her knuckles. “We’ve got metal stores to raid.”

---

Rhona does, in fact, care very deeply for her friends and will go significantly out of her way to help them, and as far as the actual, physical patching-together of healing goes, there are few better. She just... doesn't have a great bedside manner.

Elves like Wygar do grow facial hair, but much more slowly and sparsely than humans; it takes a few days for him to even get a five o'clock shadow and tends to stop at 'long stubble', so actually growing a proper beard wouldn't be on the cards for him even if he wanted to.

Eversteel is probably titanium. That's what I had in mind, at least.

[africanfemalearchitects]

Sarah Calburn was born in Johannesburg where she attended Roedean School, matriculating in 1981. She studied architecture at the University of the Witwatersrand, graduating in 1987, and in 1996 was awarded a master’s degree for her research at Australia’s Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology. The same year she set up an architecture practice in Johannesburg.

Calburn has also worked as an architect in Paris, Hong Kong, Sydney and Melbourne. In addition to many housing projects, she designed Johannesburg’s Momo art gallery. She also serves on the committee of the Gauteng Institute for Architecture and was programme director of ArchitectureZA 2010, the first South African Architectural Biennale. aimed at creative urban development in Johannesburg. Calburn has also taught at the University of the Witwatersrand, the University of Cape Town and RMIT Melbourne.

For more info visit sarahcalburn.co.za

Cocoon House — Residential Project

Somerset House School

Paul Smith — Retail Project

[architecisaro]

Inspiring Living African ‘Female’ Architects, biography and ground-breaking achievements.

A personal research that led to the creation of africanfemalearchitects.work

Olajumoke Olufunmilola Adenowo, Nigerian (born 16 October 1968) is an architect by profession. She is also an entrepreneur and philanthropist, a public speaker, radio host and author. CNN described her as "Africa's Starchitect" and The Guardian (Nigeria) has described her as "the face of Architecture in Nigeria". In 2018 she was recognised by the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) as one of the inspirational women in architecture today.

Adenowo has been featured in the architectural journal Architectural Record and has spoken at summits and conferences including the Global Women's Forum and Harvard Business School (African Business Club). She hosts a syndicated radio show on leadership "Voice of Change".

As an architect Adenowo's portfolio includes a host of multi-national and Nigerian clients including Coca-Cola, L’Oreal, The Nigerian Stock Exchange, Access Bank Plc and Guaranty Trust Bank.

As a public speaker, Adenowo has lectured on the arts, architecture, gender issues, women's empowerment and entrepreneurial activities in Africa. She has been featured by the international media such as CNN and Fortune.

  - She started her own architecture and interior design firm AD Consulting in 1994. The firm is based in Lagos, Nigeria. At 14 she enrolled in Obafemi Awolowo University and graduated with a Bachelor of Science with Honours in Architecture at age 19. As an undergraduate she won the prize for Best Student Design. She obtained her Master's of Science in Architecture, with distinction, from the same university in 1991.

She is also an alumnus of Harvard Kennedy School (2019), the Yale School of Management (2016), Lagos Business School Chief Executive Programme (2002) and The IESE Business School at the University of Navarra in Barcelona, Spain (2005).

Adenowo has stated that her interest in architecture was ignited by visits to Paris and the Palais de Versailles as a young child, as well as living on the Obafemi Awolowo University campus. These inspired her design philosophy - the core lesson being that in its functionality, architecture must be sensitive to its climatic, technological, infrastructural and physical contexts. Visit https://www.adconsultinglimited.com/architecture.html

2. Shahira Fahmy of Shahira Fahmy Architects -  Fahmy was born in Egypt. She holds a master's degree in Architecture from Cairo University (2004). In 2003 Received her Ph.D., from the Missouri School of Journalism, Columbia University, USA and She obtained her MA in Architecture from Cairo University in 2002-2003. In 2012, with London-based Delfina Foundation, Fahmy won an architecture competition and as a result worked on the architectural expansion of the Delfina Foundation headquarters near Buckingham Palace in London. which was completed in 2014. Fahmy also designed the modern Block 36 in Westown, Cairo. Fahmy has participated in various architectural exhibitions, including the Atlas of The Unbuilt World, The Home in the Arab world, Andermatt Swiss Alps AG, Green Good Design Exhibition, Cityscape Abu Dhabi, +20 Egypt Design, Cairo, Egypt, World Architecture Festival, Cityscape Dubai, MIPIM, Traffic, Furnex, LEAF Award, 100% Design/ 100% Futures, Salone Internationale del Mobile Salone Satellite, and Bibliotheca Alexandrina.

Art of Change mask from recycled paper to promote conscious design by repurposing waste.

Pyramid House - 2019

A House - 2011

1999 - Ahmed Bahaa Edin Cultural Center, Upper Egypt

3. Sarah Calburn was born in Johannesburg where she attended Roedean School, matriculating in 1981. She studied architecture at the University of the Witwatersrand, graduating in 1987, and in 1996 was awarded a master's degree for her research at Australia's Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology. The same year she set up an architecture practice in Johannesburg.

Calburn has also worked as an architect in Paris, Hong Kong, Sydney and Melbourne. In addition to many housing projects, she designed Johannesburg's Momo art gallery. She also serves on the committee of the Gauteng Institute for Architecture and was programme director of ArchitectureZA 2010, the first South African Architectural Biennale. aimed at creative urban development in Johannesburg. Calburn has also taught at the University of the Witwatersrand,the University of Cape Town and RMIT Melbourne. 

Visit http://sarahcalburn.co.za/

Somerset House School

Cocoon House - Residential Project 

Paul Smith - Retail Project

4. Anya Van der Merwe completed the Bachelor of Architecture (BArch) with Distinction in 1984 before moving to London, England, to further her studies at the Architectural Association, from where she graduated with an Architectural Association Graduate Diploma in History and Theory (AAGradDip)in 1987. 

Van der Merwe Miszewski Architects is an award winning architectural practice based in Cape Town, South Africa. The company was founded in 1991 by directors Anya Van der Merwe and Macio Miszewski.Anya Van der Merwe and Macio Miszewski met at the University of Cape Town School of Architecture in the early 1980s. Anya left VDMMA as director in 2016. 

VDMMA Tree House - 1999

De Beers Corporate Headquarters - 2004

Cape Town Internatonal Convention Centre - 2003

Cliff House- 2000 Visit https://www.vdmma.com/

5.  Linda Mvusi (c. 1955 in Bloemfontein- ) is an actress and architect. Mvusi took an award for best actress[1] at the 1988 Cannes Film Festival for her role in the film A World Apart which was directed by Chris Menges. Mvusi was the first South African to get a best Actress award at Cannes.[2]

Mvusi also shared in an award for excellence for her architecture on the Apartheid Museum. She  practices with her own company in South Africa.

6. Katherine Maree Otten, usually known as Kate Otten, (born 28 March 1964, Durban) is a South African architect, who has won numerous awards for her South African traditional work.  Born in Durban, Kate Otten attended Roedean School in Johannesburg, matriculating in 1981. She then studied architecture at the University of the Witwatersrand, graduating in 1987. After working for a number of other practices, Otten established her own firm in 1989 in Johannesburg, just after one year of her graduation. She has designed community libraries, the waterfront development at Tzaneen, an art therapy centre in Soweto and the museum exhibition space at the former Women’s Jail at Constitution Hill which received a commendation from the South African Institute of Architects (SAIA). Kate has won many awards including the SAIA Award of Merit House Staude in 1998 to the Mbokodo Awards Architecture and Creative Design in 2013. In 2020, She became the President of the South African Institute of Architects.

Visit http://kateottenarchitects.com/

House Blount

Law on Keyes

Art Therapy Centre

7. Co-Arc International Architects director Catharine Atkins and architect Malika Walele are the leading women behind the 55-story building on Maude Street, which was designed by Co-Arc’s emeritus partner, Francois Pienaar. — TimesLIVE  - 2019

 Malika Walele, South African, Master’s Degree in Architecture in 2015 at the University of the Witwatersrand. currently working as a full-time architect in Johannesburg, Co-Arc International architects.

Co-Arc International Architects director Catharine Atkins and architect Malika Walele are the leading women behind the 55-story building on Maude Street, which was designed by Co-Arc’s emeritus partner, Francois Pienaar. — TimesLIVE  - 2019

Visit https://www.co-arc.com/

[stlguy1984-blog]

No matter how long the workday is, (8-10 hours) making 20-30 minutes for yourself shouldn’t be a chore or a challenge. #thursdaymotivation #gym #run #lift #calburn (at Planet Fitness)

[ahmetelirodriquez-blog]

#calburn #calories #fitness #sport #gym #gymnastics #cardio #strenghttraining #newyeargoals #fitforlife #fitforfree

[arrows-and-cigars]

Always A Soldier at Heart

Leaning on the rail of air ship’s deck Damerrek scanned the battlefield below, forced from both sides locked in a heated skirmish for the center of the field. Sounds of the raging battle were drowned out from the massive engines that kept them in the air, the second ship that had entered before them already entered a firefight with the Horde’s airship. It was a strange feeling, that of similarity and difference, the land having changed so much over the years, and to be so close and so far from home at the same time.

The smoldering cigar had reached it’s end, a cloud of smoke rolling from the man’s nostrils like a dragon as the stub was tossed over the side of the ship, the vessel beginning to lean west towards the time worn wall. Hands busied themselves, checking every buckle and latch to his armor and quiver, ensuring the twin blades were secured at his boot and waist.

“Just like old times, eh Kerridan?” The grizzled voice of the slightly shorter woman bringing back into the moment.

“Well, almost. Not as cold as a witches tit like Icecrown and it’s not quite the same without Calburn.” Turning just enough as he spoke to address the veteran dragoon, a woman he once served beside that was equally tested by time, her left eye now replaced with a solid brown patch. “I see Williams was able to talk just about everyone into this, aside from Shadeleaf, unless she’s hiding somewhere.”

Erin snorted, looking over the railing as she spoke. “Nah. She joined the Army of the Black Moon like all the other long ears. Can’t really blame her though, otherwise yeah. You, me, Partbew, Silverfall, and Williams all here. We all knew the battlefield would be our reunion though. Hope Calburn and Fredricks find their peace in the Light though, two good men gone too soon. Surprised you even agreed, Kerridan, last I knew you never re-enlisted.” The single hazel eye shifting to the Marksman with a raised brow.

“No. Though about it, but I found a different calling during the Legion’s invasion. Where Williams and I ran into each other again, and how he knew where to find me. We both went to Argus with the Path and somehow we both came back.”

The dragoon’s shoulders shook with a hearty laugh, opening her mouth to speak on the war against the Legion before they were interrupted with a loud bang.

“Enou’h chit-chat ladies, eryone below deck! It’s show time!” Sporting a wide grin the dwarf lifted his hammer from the metal plate it was slammed against. A meaty hand waving to beckon both the Marksman and Dragoon to follow his decent, even if they both gave him the finger.

Upon reaching the bottom both were met with parachutes tossed into their chest, Commander Williams smirking at the pair as the cargo door along the base of the air ship opened up, grabbing onto an overhead bar for support.

“Dropping in just past Newstead. Kerridan, Silverfall, you two loop around south and cover Tyre and I. Partbrew, trail behind us until we reach the objective. Retaking the farm and stables will cripple the Horde’s advance.”

Orders boomed out over the piercing sound of rushing air that filled the space, each member of the squad nodding as parachutes were fastened. A boisterous ‘for the Alliance’ shouted in unison before Williams took the first jump, the dwarf and Dragoon following shortly behind.

With a quick glance between them, the elven ranger jumped first of the two, Damerrek stepping out the cargo door a few seconds behind. Even after being away from the battlefield for so long it all came rushing back to him like a bad habit, perhaps what they say is true and the wars never leave the soldier. The sight of the skirmish below stirring a dormant instinct, eyes quickly skirting the approaching ground and making note of strategic positions to take up and possible places to flake the enemy.

Chutes sprung open as the dropzone got closer, the small pieces of cloth designed to only slow the approach to a safe speed rather than provide a comfortable landing. Legs bent as they met the earth, killing the remaining kinetic energy in a light jog as the parachute was unclasped from their bodies.

With a nod to the familiar elven face both took up their bows from their backs, the rubber stuffing removed from quivers that kept the arrows in place for the jump. Down here the sounds of war were clear as day; explosions, shouts, and screams all mixed into a near over whelming cacophony, the scent of powered and death so thick it could almost be tasted.

“Lets move.”

[jzcrazy419]

The Napa Fires

The Napa Fires by Jordan Zachary Ellis The smug air depletes Ruby red leaves from the trees Like our burning wine

[bobbie-robron]

It’s funny. I thought you were a bright young lad… going places. You don’t wanna be working for small change for the rest of your life.

It’s one and done for Robert towards the end of the clip. Matthew and Sadie decide to go ahead with their plan. Jack and Zoe finalize the land deal and later he and Diane dine with Zoe and Callum but not before some 1:1 chats. Sadie tries to ingratiate herself with Jack but he’s immune, the land remains with him. Matthew attempts to turn Robert’s head with talks of working for them (and raising himself higher) in return in helping them get that land from Jack.

17-May-2005

[bluefuecoco]

I've officially caught enough shinies in scarvio to fill up a box. So I want to introduce them all!!!!

Pinkan the lechonk, Bello the flaffy, Smolly the azumarill (mvp for being the pokemon that helps me catch all shinies), Denali the litleo, Lysandre the male Pyroar, and Lara the female Pyroar.

Eclair and Tiramisu the Fidough, Marie the oinkelogne, Basilly the sneasel, Truffle the dachsbun, and Bellum the flareon

Natali the garganacl, Watts the rotom, Jin the snover, Andy the psyduck, Sasha the mareep, and Mario the smoliv

Blooper the wooper, Beeper the clodsire, Jewel the fletchinder, Deacon the vaporeon, Shamrock the skiddo and Emiril the gogoat

Calburn the mimikyu, Bluey the rockruff, Peach the flamigo, Naomy the nymble, Dinno the ditto, and Ella the larvesta!!!

yes, I managed to get one of my dreamy shinies, a beautiful blue rockruff! Flamigo was also on my list, so getting those two outbreaks today was great!

[caprin-fishie]

Initial sketch

Full colour ✨

Mavis travel outfit 💙

And calburne the wyvern on her shoulder 🐲

Some stuff for my dnd session 😊

[azvolrien]

OC Trivia - Accents and Voices

I don’t have ‘voice actors’ in mind for most of my characters, but nevertheless I do generally have some idea of what their voices sound like. This got a bit longer than I’d originally intended, so I’ll put it under a cut. So here goes:

Stormhaven:

I’ve established on several occasions that Stormhaveners sound Welsh, though as with Wales itself there are regional variations.

Wygar (like most people from the city of Stormhaven) has a fairly gentle South Wales accent. I actually imagine him as sounding similar to Tom Jones, but with a somewhat lighter, higher voice, more of a tenor than a baritone (and he’s not as good a singer).

Calburn’s accent is very similar to Wygar’s, but he has a deeper, more gravelly voice.

Rhona has more of a North Wales accent; her family are from a farm out in the countryside and she never visited the city until starting her apprenticeship at the College. She’s spent enough time in the city since to have picked up some of the accent but still sounds different enough to tell she’s not a native. In terms of pitch and timbre she has a fairly middling voice, not noticeably high or deep.

Kiraan:

The Kiraani Empire is huge and accordingly includes a vast variety of different accents, so let’s take ‘Kiraan’ to here mean the Imperial City itself and its immediate surroundings. Basically they sound like Londoners, with all the class variations that implies - the only two Kiraani who’ve spent much time in the spotlight are middle- to upper-class, but I expect Kiraani from a more working-class background definitely have a certain Cockney edge to their accents.

Zar, being the Emperor and expected to do a lot of public speaking, was put through all sorts of rigorous elocution lessons growing up. Accordingly he speaks with your very clipped BBC-style Received Pronunciation (like David Attenborough), but with a deep voice to go with it. I’m talking Keith David-deep, the kind of voice you feel in your bones. So not like David Attenborough.

Asta also sounds fairly upper-middle-class Londoner, sort of ‘generic English’ but not quite as formal as full RP. She has quite a high voice, but not squeaky or shrill unless she’s extremely worked-up about something. She doesn’t do much singing but she’d be in the soprano range.  

The Sea Loch Country:

The Sea Lochs, as you might have guessed from the map, are a kind of amalgam of Scotland and Scandinavia (Scotlinavia?) and have the accents to go with that. The people of Loch Deas to Loch Dubh sound Scottish; the people of Bjarnafjord to Myrkfjord are more Norwegian. Though as you might expect, the transition is more of a spectrum than a hard boundary.

Roan: Naturally she sounds Scottish. She doesn’t, however, sound Glaswegian; she has a much gentler West Highland/Hebridean accent with a definite Gaelic lilt. She has a moderately low voice for a woman, squarely in the alto range, with a bit of a purr to it. Asta could listen to it all day.

Daro, eldest son of an aristocratic clan, has a very posh Edinburgh accent. Kind of like Maggie Smith as Miss Jean Brodie, only a man. Similar tenor range to Wygar, I’d say.

And finally:

Fayn:

She gets a section of her own because frankly your guess is (almost) as good as mine. She grew up living feral in the Darkwald buffer zone between Stormhaven and the Empire and, other than a few informal vocab lessons as a six-year-old, learned English Imperial by spying on travellers making their way through the forest. A lot of those travellers were from Stormhaven so she probably does have the odd Welsh inflection, but ultimately has a weird, unidentifiable hybrid accent made up of dozens of others she’s heard. She’s of mezzo-soprano range, but years of living as an animal have left a bit of a growl in her voice.

[freakmethod-blog1]

GRAVE

"The world is a dangerous place. It can be beautiful at times, but can also seem and look awful and gloomy to others. We have many choices in life, but I believe only two of those choices truly matter. You can either live life as someone you aren't and be unhappy with it, or be who you want to be and make life amazing for yourself."

...

...

Those were the last words the young boy had ever heard from his father.

The day was cloudy and gloomy, honesty the world never looked so dull and sad. The streets of Calburn City were littered with people of all shapes and sizes, walking past each other, talking om phones, talking with each other, hell even some trading certain items for money. A young boy, no older then the age of seven walked alone on the streets of Calburn; hungry, desperate, crying, and alone, all alone in a big city dirty city like this one.

The boy looked fragile, like a single touch alone would be enough to make him crumble and turn to dust. He was short, and could barely walk as he bumped into many people who didn't seem to care for him, not even batting an eye at him.

He was tired, so tired and hungry, so desperate for someone, anyone to come and help him.

...

...

...

No one ever did.

He tried to move away from the people, finally feeling a wall and leaning against it as he followed the path of where the wall went, hoping that the wall itself would save the young boy, and so it did.

Leaning against the wall, the young boy turned into a corner and finally fell as his legs gave out from carrying him. He sat up against the rough surface of the wall and fell over into a pile of cardboard boxes, smelly plastic bags, and newspapers.

He was weak and couldn't stand the feeling of being alone in this world. People already didn't care about him, why would he expect them to care now?

He slowly turned over, facing the wall as light rain started to fall. Grabbing a nearby cardboard box he placed it over his head and hoped for it to stay like that to protect him from the rain.

The young boy cried some as he muttered the words, "Goodnight mom and dad. I'll see you both soon."

...

...

...

...

Luckily fate had other plans for him.

In every city or small town, there is a church, and with every church, there are people willing to help. Sister Nicole walked along the crowded streets of Calburn, smiling as she passed by the citizens, even if none or a few smiled back. Walking past a certain alleyway, she stopped and turned to see our young boy still crying as he struggled to fall asleep. She slowly made her way toward him and held out the umbrella she had been carrying with her, holding it out above him so the rain would stop falling on him.

He stopped crying for a bit and got up, turning to woman with the umbrella in her hand, "Y-you made the r-rain stop," he said sniffling as he moved closer to her. She looked how you would typically expect a nun to look, she was a younger nun, maybe mid/early 20's, her doll like features made her seem flawless, her blonde hait practically glowing and her eyes a nice emerald green. Her pale skin and smile made her seem like an absolute angel, which was common for most nuns here, but she reminded the young boy of someone.

"T-thank you," he said once more, his voice shaky as he struggled to move toward her, trying to give her a hug. She didn't wait for him and pulled him into a hug herself, embracing the young child as she rubbed his back comforting him, "Do not cry young one. I am here and I will help you."

He started to feel better, slightly, not completely, but he was feeling better. She slowly picked him up and held the umbrella in her right hand, carrying the young child on the right.

"What is your name little one?"

He cleared his throat before giving her the answer, "G-Gabriel," he said in a low whispery voice, "Gabriel Kenna."

She smiled at him and walked out of the alleyway with him, "It's very nice to meet yoy Gabriel. I'm sister Nicole, but you can call me Nicky if you'd like."

Gabriel nodded and looked at her once more, getting lost inside her beautiful emerald eyes as he finally found his voice again, "W-where are we going?"

She smiled and looked into his eyes, "Home."

-End Of Part 1-

[wymanthewalrus]

👀 Layne, 💃 Maxwell

Forgot to answer some of these asks. Here’s the source post: (http://feverworm.tumblr.com/post/152167964205/oc-outfit-doodle-asks)This is Layne Nichols-Calburn in her usual underwear and Maxwell Steuart [sic] Alexander in some radical 90′s clothes______________________________________________

“You see? This should make it much easier for you. Try it again.” Layne settled back in her chair, arms and legs primly crossed, and watched Denia blush.“I-…I think I was better off imagining the audience in their underwear, Lady Layne.” The young woman’s blush was redder than a river octopus.“Nonsense. Now I’m as embarrassed to be sitting here as you are to be speaking.” Layne had spent the past forty years learning to lie properly. This was not a difficult one to make. Truth be told, she had overcome embarrassment as a whole nearly two decades ago. The ability to throw someone off their groove whilst remaining stable and composed yourself was a tactically vital one.

Doesn’t hurt in bed, either, she thought remembering Hatham’s face when she had tried out that one idea that one time.Denia’s face now was quite similar to her husband’s back then. A wonderful little medley of unease, embarrassment, and arousal. Layne made a mental note of that. Fifty seven years old and she still hadn’t lost that touch.“Well?” she asked as the girl continued to hesitate. “Let’s carry on with this practice shall we? This time, picture me as the Queen of Hrolfgard and convince me to lend my armies to your cause.”“Er…Uh…Yes your Grace.” Denia launched into a stuttering, distracted speech about de facto rulership and ancient debts owed. Layne smiled. The girl was improving. Perhaps Layne would leave the final layer on, as a courtesy for progress made._____________________________________________________________Maxwell Steuart Alexander, self-styled Illustrious Admiral of the Sea and Stars, fell flat on his face as he tried to pull a kickflip, the skateboard clattering off across the wooden deck of the Implacable. Commander Yoro N’diaye watched with what he hoped was an unreadable expression as he idly cleaned his rifle. “Oof. I think that one was pretty good though, ja?” Commander N’diaye shook his head solemnly. This had been going on for two hours. They were supposed to have reached New York three hours ago, but the “Admiral” had insisted on switching off the engines and attempting to sail into port using only the Implacable’s replica sails. The wind had stopped shortly thereafter.Maxwell lurched to his feet, dusting off his shirt. It was a neon green monstrosity depicting a Tyrannosaur giving a thumbs-up over a jagged, stylized clump of letters that appeared to say “Skate Radical or Die Square”.Commander N’diaye glanced over at a nearby crewman, but she didn’t meet his eye, choocing instead to scramble up the rigging and set to work on some knots. Second-hand embarrassment could be as deadly a killer as any.