#mace fuller

[murky-the-phantom-thief]

HE LOOKS 20 YEARS YOUNGER WHAT IS THIS

[murkywater-art]

I’m quite proud of this honestly

[cartoonsbyandie]

So I saw The Bad Guys.

Etsy // Twitter // Instagram  

[georgiapeach30513]

You know it’s down right unnatural that CE can pull off long hair, short hair, fluffy hair. Beard & no beard. If he goes bald and pulls that off too I’m going to insist he’s not human.

I don’t like the edits of him bald. I’d prefer not to see that. I miss his fuller beard. We’re coming into cooler months, so I want to see some fluff, and less scruff. But I’m trying to think of a look I just absolutely hate. Mace’s long wig is about as misfortunate as Freezy’s.

[ashleyslothlife]

3x10 And the Woman Clothed in Sun  I love Denise with all my heart, mind, and soul for threatening to mace Hannibal in the face.  I don’t understand why I’m not into the Red Dragon plot line, the actor seems perfectly good, nothing wrong with the story, yet I just want one of the other characters on screen?  I’d normally be very into any plot line with a capable blind woman.  I think it is because I know this is the last season and I want more time with all the characters I already know instead of this ‘new one.’ but I don’t blame Fuller for doing what he could to finish the story he wanted to tell. Well, he sure did eat that painting. 

[pyrrhesia]

The Warden

Ysabet Sable is never allowed back into Gridania.

Pertains to Endwalker’s tank role quest, and contains spoilers to it, as well as continued liberties with canon.

He ran. Antoin knew nothing else. Thought had deserted him, sanity followed. All that mattered was getting one foot in front of the other, staggering and stumbling through the brush. His breath was shallow and frantic and... somehow, wrong. But he was ahead of his pursuers. That was all that mattered. And so long as he was, there was hope... He was focused on the heavy tread behind him, growing encouragingly fainter. The soft leather ahead eluded him, until it was too late. Wood and crystal whistled, cracking him squarely across the forehead and laying him out, panting and twitching across the forest floor. The culprit stepped over him, gave a quizzical look, then gingerly prodded him with the tip of her mace. Little response. Adequately stunned, then. She dragged the point across his open shirt, pulling it down over one shoulder... ... and there it was. The sign of corruption. "Hold there!" The woman barely flinched as the warning shot whistled between her ears. She flicked them in irritation. "You're late, Wailer." "Who the hell are you?" Not the shooter. Ysabet counted six... no, seven. Two thought they were hidden. And she heard a heavier tread in the back, there... "I am Ysabet Sable. You know of me." She shifted her posture, resting both hands against the greatmace Læraðr. "Do not interfere," snarled a third. "This man bears a plague--" "He bears no plague," snapped Ysabet. "You really think a chigoe did this?" Relief, from the man on the ground. "It's not-- it isn't the Creeping Death? You're saying I'm safe? I'm saved?" "Perhaps," lied Ysabet. "What do you know of it?" said another Wailer, arrow already nocked. "Did you cause it, eh?" Ysabet glowered at him. Evidently, he did not know who she was. "I know you," he went on. "You really think I'd forget a lost rabbit, far from home? Sniffing around Quarrymill?" "Ah." She levelled a claw at him. "No, no, no. I do remember you." "Aye?" Quietly, she said, "I remember you sitting on your hands, In thrall to your dead gods, as a man died in front of you." His knuckles whitened around his bow. "Say that again--" The clank of metal got closer and closer; at last, it crested the hill. "What the hell is going on?" And then, "Ysabet!?" "Hello, Severine," said Ysabet, eyes not moving from the Quarrymill Wailer. "I am surprised to see you. Pleased, as well. Care to enlighten me as to what's going on?"

They took Antoin back to camp to convalesce, then took tea there. Ysabet, somehow, always came prepared. "The Twin Adders have a blasphemy they needed put down," Severine explained. "I was available." "So were others. You didn't have to run out. Don't you have a child to rear?" "I didn't know you were here!" Severine leaned back with a sigh. "Look, this isn't meant to be dangerous. We've slain blasphemies before by the dozen. I'm here to keep the Adders steady while they get the job done." "Mm." Ysabet sipped at her tea, trying to look for delicate phrasing and not finding any. "And how do they feel about taking orders from an outsider who looks a lot like a duskwight?" Severine's smile was humourless. "The Adders keep professional. They're used to mixed company. They've actually seen some of the world, had to work with different people. The rest... haven't exactly been cooperative. But I can't imagine you've had much better luck." "No, I haven't." She leaned forward. "I'm unsurprised to hear of the blasphemy - is there a name?" "They're calling it Gleipnir. Why are you here, then? About the Creeping Death?" "At first, yes." Ysabet chuckled, softly. "Though now, I see a fuller picture. The corruption in the woods runs far deeper than one stray blasphemy." Severine raised an eyebrow. "That might be the case, but the blasphemy is important. Especially if it's behind this plague. Will you help in the hunt?" "Ah, I doubt it would be welcome..." "I'd welcome it," she countered, flatly. "Whatever your issue with the Gridanians isn't my concern, but surely it involves clearing out Gleipnir. Better to work together than at cross-purposes, no?" But there was no time for an answer. A scout burst into the camp. More attacks. This time, at Rootslake. And this time, the Elder Seedseer was going to attend in person. They left. Together.

"How can we face a beast like that?" "Seedseers're sitting pretty with their guards and their finery... what do they care about any of this?" "They aren't doing a bloody thing. They just don't care..." An uneasy silence fell upon the camp. Commonfolk looked up from their circles of gossip toward the unlikely newcomers. The Elder Seedseer, too, looked up from her conference with her bodyguards, forcing a brave, terrified smile. "Ser Belgrave. And... Lady Sable? I had not thought you would come." "Nor hoped, I suspect." Ysabet's ear flicked. She had not often troubled the Shroud. It had always felt... wrong, to her, to its very core. "Nevertheless, I aim to be of service to you." "What happened?" Severine asked. An Adder grimaced. "Gleipnir's stalking the region. No more attacks - yet - but the locals are in a panic." "There is no cause for panic," said the Elder Seedseer, voice carrying clear across the camp. "The beast will not trespass here." It lacked conviction. And, worse, emboldened one man to bite back, a stage-murmur under his breath, "easy for you to say, eh? We ought to pack up and head to Ul'dah. 'Least down there they don't pretend to care for the common man..." The accusation struck Kan-E like a blow to the heart. She cared. Of course she did. And she would weep for any lost. But what could she do? So she thought. Ysabet cut over anything she could have said, a cruel laugh twisting the knife. "You think so little of the land, you would flee before fighting for your place in it? Has it mistreated you so?" The man had not meant to be overheard; or, at least, not consciously. Confronted, he doubled down. "That isn't-- that's not how it should be! We're meant to live at peace with the land, right? The elementals have to be kept happy, and if the Seedseers can't even do that, what're they for?" "What, indeed," Ysabet muttered, too loud. Far too loud, in Severine's mind. "Calm yourselves. Whatever the elementals' part in this, I will keep you safe." A pained look, from Kan-E. But perhaps it was the shove she needed; she was the spiritual leader, once again. "The elementals live among us. They do care, and they do reward our faith. I swear no harm shall come to any of you. Even now, the net closes on Gleipnir..." She trailed off at beating footsteps. Another report. Some locals really were trying to bolt south to Thanalan.

They tried it Kan-E's way, for a while. But when they found the men, they were frantic. And one had been stricken. He turned, and the rest of the crew with him, the panic more infectious than Gleipnir's plague. Severine and Ysabet did all they could, and put them quickly to the sword. "Raya-O said we would need to turn to the elementals for assistance," said Kan-E, her slender shoulders slumped, "and I know, now, that she was right." "Must they be roused?" Frustration crept into Ysabet's voice. "Is the rot not apparent? Is it not enough of a threat--" "I will seek audience with the great one," said Kan-E - coming close, for the first time, to truly raising her voice. "I shall make the proper ablutions; pray return to the Adders' Nest and await my summons." The Seedseer stalked off, guards in tow. Ysabet stood, and watched them leave. Severine lingered between them, gave a searching look to Ysabet, but she was not comforted by what she saw. There was a coldness in those eyes. "Not coming to the Adders' Nest, I take it?" "I have my own preparations to make," Ysabet said, quietly. Severine grunted, and half-turned away. Then turned back. "Assume, for a moment, that I'm not grounded enough in druidic philosophy to follow this... this tree-measuring contest with the Seedseers? I don't understand how these people work, either, but is it really ours to reason why?" Ysabet gave it thought. She had a way of musing that Severine could find infuriating, sometimes; tell her something she really needed to gnaw on and she would stand there, staring straight through you, sifting it over. But eventually, she came to her conclusion. "I came to Ul'dah, and did not understand. Then I saw the truth; that it was broken. But with the Sultana and the Bull, and the rest of the Scions, we did what we could to make it whole, no?" "A fair assessment. But..." "When we came to your own homeland, Ishgard, the other Scions did not understand. But you knew the truth, did you not? That it, too, was broken? And with you and Aymeric, the Azure Dragoon and the Fortemps, did we not mend it?" A tight smile, through Severine's thin lips. "We left it better than you found it, certainly." "And what of Garlemald? There was a cancer there, called Empire, and we cut that out, did we not?" Ysabet was growing in momentum, now, the words coming faster and more strident. "And Garlemald will heal, as we left it. So now we come back to Gridania, and we see a people in thrall to blind gods who lash out without their rituals and their sacrifices, a... a people who will let children die and duskwights be made outcast, to preserve their unnatural order, all to earn protection from these vaunted elementals... only now, to find them too numb to stir, even as an otherworldly threat threatens to consume all in its path? You tell me, now, that this is a land we cannot mend? That we should leave these people to rot?" There was silence, for a time. A gentle breeze rustled the canopy above. "So," asked Severine at last, "what will you do?" "That... I do not yet know. But when it is time to act, I shall."

Mrdja's arms trembled. The point of the arrow wavered, dipping madly under the target, then swaying right. Damn it all, how did Kjva make it look so easy? Her arms were strong, her aim was steady. With her, it was one swift motion. No hesitation. And always, always, always, she struck her mark. Mrdja ... released. The arrow vanished into the undergrowth. The stag was not alarmed enough to scatter. Stupid, stupid! She pulled another. Pulled it back-- no, too soon! She had to breathe. She had to stay calm. She knew this. And in front of the targets, she was a fair enough shot. The targets did not have chests with pounding hearts. The targets did not have darting black eyes, deep as pools. They did not-- She let fly. The stag grunted, staggered to its left... shook its head violently. The arrow was lodged in its throat. But it was too stupid to know it was dead. It looked straight through Mrdja, who did not know until that moment that a stag could look reproachful. And then, of course, it fled. Fumbling for her second arrow and swearing the foreign curses she'd picked up from the merchant caravans, Mrdja raced along to follow, forgetting all she had learned about drifting along the forest floor in tune with it in the interest of pure pace. Or was her own heart racing too fast? She was no huntress. But she was here to learn an object lesson. Ljda would not see her until the stag's head was produced. The nature of things was out of balance. Foreign hunters had driven a herd into the woods, and they threatened to grow out of control, and this proud old sire would do more than his share to multiply the damn things. 'Can we not leave it to the hunters?' she had made the mistake of asking. Ljda had frowned. Instantly, Mrdja knew she had erred. 'It amazes me,' she said, 'your capacity to repeat the same mistake, a thousandfold. You aspire to master life, yes? To become a healer greater than any salve-maker, to ensure the grove will flourish, to keep your people safe?' 'I do! Is that not--' 'There are two sides to it. And sometimes, to preserve life,' she said, plucking a weed from her garden, 'we must bring death'. And so she'd been out here for two days. Exploring this extended metaphor to its conclusion. Ljda had a sick sense of humour. Worse still, she heard on the wind that the proper huntresses were taking bets on how long Mrdja would take before finding her prize. But at least the shot was landed, now. She needed only follow, scurrying through the forest floor, steadily gaining as the stag lost speed, the shock of its eventually fatal wound catching up, slowly, slowly-- The wolf came from nowhere. Slavering fangs clamped around the stag's throat, dragging it to the ground and silencing it - but for the crack of its neck - with a hard yank. Mrdja stood and watched in horror. And it looked up. And it saw, perhaps, a second meal. Or perhaps competition over its first? Instinct took over. Somehow the arrow found its way to the string, without her even knowing. And somehow, as the wolf leapt, it found its mark, burying itself through one eye and deep into the brain. It hurled itself on her with the last of its strength, but as she kicked and struggled, it slumped off her with no more resistance than its own weight. She sat there, breathing, for a time. Wondering why her racing heart felt so good inside her.

Ysabet found the Guardian Tree unwatched. She frowned. That was not how it was meant to be. And when she saw the first shapes of warped, discarded armour, she knew... ... well, she knew she could not concern herself with that. Any number of hired hands could take down a lesser blasphemy. Only she could do this, now. Not even Kan-E, she suspected. For better or for worse. The 'ritual preparations' were a pretext, Ysabet knew, which meant it would not be long before Kan-E, Severine and the Keeper made their arrival. And they would not allow her to do... this. "Hello, Father Tree," she murmured, running her long fingers through the canopy. "I do hope you are not counting on pleasantries, today. I do not come as supplicant." It rustled. Perhaps already resistant. No, it could hear, she knew. And what it understood, it did not care for. This was not the way of things. This was not how they were done. She drifted her long hand down across its branches to its trunk, claws scraping gently against the bark. It liked that not, either. Yet she did not find the rebuke she expected. "Grown timid in your old age, is that it? Tell me your story." And, when it did not prove immediately forthcoming, "I will have your story." The bark betrayed it. There was... a wound, on it, that could never heal. And she let her mind and soul drift to the fringes of the great consciousness within, keeping her feet ever grounded, staying moored... and she let its memories bleed into her. A wanderer and a Padjal - in training, a mere child! Meant to keep me safe! Meant to protect! Yet he brings this interloper! Can you not see? See through his lies? And the wanderer rose from his pretended prayer, pushed past the child, snapped a branch off the bough-- The rebuke was great. The wanderer did not survive, struck a thousand times a thousand times, no punishment too great. And the unworthy earned his punishment. Stripped of his horns... "Ea-Sura," Ysabet murmured, and her eyes were open, and she saw it-- him! It? Waiting. Watching. Slavering. Profanity's spawn Despair's orphan Sadness, anger Sadness Death's prayer One and all And the fear overwhelmed all. Ysabet pulled herself back while she still could, and dragged herself, mind and body, away from the Guardian, which had whipped itself into a mad frenzy. Ea-Sura! Ea-Sura! Ea-Sura comes! And yet And yet... it waited. Only waited. Ysabet watched it, back rising and falling, sapped of all colour and life and somehow all the more indefatigable for it. And Ysabet realised, then, that it awaited an opening to avenge itself. "For a branch?" she said, softly. "All this, over a branch?" A branch? The rebuke came strong, but Ysabet was ready, this time. Indignation overpowered its own fear, but could not find a way through her wards. Corruption starts... covenant broken... all lost... would that there was the strength... to bring to bear... were I strong... you would be crushed... breaker of faith... "You damned a child for the sake of a trick, a single pruned branch it cost. And now your people reap what you have sown, and here you stand." Ysabet shook her head softly. "Unwilling to act. Fearful of the beast's wrath falling where it deserves. So more die, because of your sloth." No strength to share! No strength to share! The flesh rots! Drive out the evil, drive out the evil! "These woods do rot. The corruption spreads, for want of pruning." Ysabet gathered herself, hands clenched around her mace, letting it become the conduit for her force. "You are the source of the thousand poisons, Guardian. And I am no Seedseer in your thrall, but my people did name me Warden, for I kept them safe. We heard and knew and felt and breathed the Green Word, not the lies of elementals, and the Word never promised protection, nor asked service. We needed only know our place, do our part. Know that I see you for what you are," and she was bellowing now, her words echoing through every corner of the Shroud, "and name you false prophet, name you deceiver! The world demands you be unmade, and through me, it shall be so!" Læraðr came down; branches whipped out, lashing at her, at Ysabet, grappling at her, driving her closer, driving her to one knee. But she made the world rise to her defence, the primal aspects that respected strength; the earth bowed to her and shielded her, vines lashed against the Guardian and drank deep of its sap. Evergreen leaves yellowed and fell all around, warden and guardian locked in primal conflict. Yet with every step in the physical world, Ysabet came closer to its presence in the world beyond, a thousand years of experience at the core of the Shroud. There was a presence here with a power far beyond her, and though it was confused and complacent and fearful, bloated and decadent... this was all that kept her from being subsumed into its core. Yet so close, she could see those flaws, and they gave her resolve. Gave her contempt. Both proved fine shields. But it would mean nothing if she could not deliver... the final blow... "YSABET!" The name sprang from two mouths, one Severine's, one Kan-E's, witnessing her struggle against the Guardian. The latter railed at her; Ysabet tuned her out. But the former unsheathed her blade and advanced-- -- but not on the guardian. But neither on Ysabet, for now, at last, Gleipnir pounced with a wounded, bestial roar, driving its claws into the Guardian, ripping away at its bark. Its poisons seeped into the tree, and it keened, and lashed, and struck back-- -- and left an opening. Ysabet ripped herself clear of the vines, the barbs and thorns tearing through her flesh, but it was enough. Enough to drive her mace through the tree, shattering it to the core, a strike that burst with a thousand long-awaited winters and the killing frost that would give way to renewal. And Gleipnir, too, struck again and again, until a terrible silken sound cut through the rancour. A single blow from Severine drove through its spine, pinning the beast to the tree. The Guardian shuddered. Tremors beneath their feet-- the ground gave way, all around, as roots splintered. And the Shroud screamed in mourning, for it did not yet understand-- "What have you done?" There were tears in Kan-E's eyes. "What have you done?" Severine stamped on Gleipnir's back to drag her blade free, expecting a reprisal that never came. The thing seemed... almost tranquil, in truth, slumping against a dying tree. Severine dragged her blade back, but the second blow never came. It was not necessary. The beast was dust. Ysabet leaned heavily against a nearby, innocent tree, breathing hoarse and ragged. "I have done my part, Elder Seedseer." "You slew the Guardian Tree!" "I am pleased to say I played some significant part in that, yes." With some effort, she looked Kan-E in the eye. "You thought to bring ritual? You thought to plea for your lives? You would have wasted your time. Its thoughts were on the surface, there for the taking. It was consumed by fear. Useless to you; worse than useless! It caused this! And your peoples' complacency..." She shook her head. "Ach, I do not care to moralise. Ea-Sura is slain at last, and avenged besides, and you will learn in time to thank me for my part in it. But I will not force you to exile me, Kan-E. I will go." But when the next words came from Kan-E, as Ysabet panted and tried to regather herself, it was not to berate her. "But what do we do? With the Guardian fallen... ?" "Ha. That's easy enough. Slash the site clear, burn it, then..." Ysabet forced a smile. "Then bury a sapling in its stead. Place your faith in the Shroud to adapt... and in yourselves to adapt, besides."

It would take more than that. Far more than that. And Ysabet Sable never did return to Gridania, her status as pariah marked forever - or, at least, for the generation. That, at least, she was destined to outlive. But the sapling they planted would outlive her, in turn, growing strong as it fed off the charnel of the Guardian. And that was the way of things. The way it should be. It really was that simple.

[sweethurtss]

okay, hear me out: one more werewolf OC for the road because I found the icons for this fc and I miss using her

Andi Barnes. Women want her, fish fear her. She's a former rodeo queen and loves barrel racing, and the occasional bull riding. She keeps her horse down on Aurelius' ranch, so she's always down there even though she has her own apartment in town.

It's not rare for the girl with a lopsided smile and helping hand to steal a heart or two. And Andi, as Aurelius would say, is a big fan of the ladies (and fellas).

Who is going to stop me from saying that she's not also a part of my firefighting team of muses?? I think she'd enjoy the hard work, challenges, and being able to help people. There's nothing she hates more than feeling helpless, and wants to make sure other people know there is always someone there who will help them when they need it most.

This mindset is exactly why she's quite close with Aurelius, even looking up to him as a mentor; and is also very patient with Berkley and all his mood swings. Andi is actually Berk's sparring partner, always down to play fight and wrestle with him when he just needs to blow some steam off.

tw for violence and death

She was ten years old when she was bitten and turned into a werewolf. She had gone out duck hunting with her uncle when they got separated, she had thought it was a simple accident and didn't think much about it since she was quite familiar with the area and knew how to get back to the truck in case she couldn't find her uncle.

Unfortunately, she did find him. His body as cold and unmoving as ice. Distracted by the gore, she never even saw the large wolf until it had already descended upon her. With her foot jammed against the beast's throat, she managed to buy herself enough time to grab the bear mace from her pocket and spray the wolf's face until it doubled over in pain.

Running back to the truck, parked along the road, Andi managed to wave down a truck and begged the driver to take her into town. Her mauled arm and bloody pantleg was enough to earn her quick passage to the clinic as she bawled and cried about a wolf attack.

end of tw

Aside from the grief and occasional reporter who appeared on her doorstep, life went back to relative normal for Andi. If by normal, that meant odd cravings for rare steak and chasing after small game (rabbits and birds) as the moon began to grow fuller and fuller. The first shift was frightening, and if she had to describe it, she would simply say that it was pain because that's all she can remember. She awoke two days later, covered in blood and a blanket fastened tightly around her.

So small and young, it had broken Aurelius' heart when he first came into the chicken coop her father had locked her in amid her first shifting — unsure how else to subdue his daughter without hurting her.

It had even been her father who came knocking on Aurelius' door, furious and confused in between the raging fear that he was going to lose his daughter so soon after losing his brother. The werewolf, taking in 'troubled teens', had been the Barnes' neighbor and the only man Andi's father trusted to keep her secret and help keep her safe.

[gaiagoodhealthsblog]

Gaia Oats – Masala 200g

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[remixinc]

LITTLE SIMZ 'Introvert' from Salomon Ligthelm on Vimeo.

UKMVA 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Win for Best Editing UKMVA 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Nomination for Best Choreography UKMVA 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Nomination for Best HipHop & Grime & Rap UK Kinsale Awards 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Win for Best Music Video International Kinsale Awards 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Win for Best Direction International 1.4 AWARDS 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - LongList SHOTS 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Nomination for Music Video of The Year AICP Awards 2021 - Little Simz 'Introvert' - Win for Best Music Video

Production Company: @prettybirdpic MD/Exec Producer: @juliette_larthe Exec Producer: @chrisraymurdoch Producer: @k_lamb_ @marthamcguirk @mrmrfilms Production Manager: @lcbrads Production Assistant: @ellamayknight 1st AD: Joshua Loftin DOP: @joelhoneywell 1st AC: @hopidemattio 2nd AC: Kairo Jones Steadicam: @richard_james_lewis Camera Trainee: @joeljoel_robinson Grip: Viz Sopjani Gaffer: @yanmurawski99 Spark: Serkan Cetin Spark: Yuri Production Designer: @laulit Art Department Assistant: Chris Dent Stylist: @luciellis Stylist Assistant: Natalie Asare Stylist Assistant: Elizabeth Beth Artists Hair Stylist: Chantelle Fuller Hair & Makeup Artist: Nibras Hair Assistant: Diana Francis Make Up Assistant: @sandrahadimua Choreographer: @kloedean SFX Supervisor: Nigel Cripps Runner: Daisy Smith Runner: Lucia Ritucci Runner: Apollo Wilson Production Runner: Tyshan Dwyer BTS: @tamiym.photo Artists Assistant: @tillaarcé Medic/Covid Supervisor: Richard Hayward Action Vehicle Driver: Brent-James Pinder Minibus Driver: Roger Rose Camera Car Driver: Grump Transport

Dancer: @chantelle_dawe Dancer: @cherilynalbert_ Dancer: @clairesince94 Dancer: @daniharriswalters Dancer: @indz.b Dancer: @kobyturner__ Dancer: @lewisbram Dancer: @stefano_saa

Cast @ifadyelsayed Amber Lowe Georgia Neath Ayomide Plufidipe Narisha Nawson Samuel King James Mace Charlie Shaw Adam Hafez Glody Kinkiani Jabari Ngozi Warrick Simon Antony Francis Hannah Kumah Janelle Kumah Cullen Kumah Develop and Processing: @Cinelablondon Edit: @elisesmelise Edit Producer: Polly Kemp Colourist: Simon Bourne Color Producer: Chris Anthony

Label : AWAL Commissioner: Bianca Bhagat

Camera supplied by @mcx_films Lighting supplied by @shlfilmlighting

Thanks to Chris and Nikki Snode Cinelab and Aarti Mahtani

[thegreatsolaris]

Love in blue and green ♡

[murkywater-art]

Art collaboration with @cartoonsbyandie !!!

[cartoonsbyandie]

“Richard, you’re many things, but smooth is not one of them.” -- Conan Edogawa, Dub Episode 128

Etsy // Twitter // Instagram  

[oberynmartell]

List of Black Lives Matter and Racial Equality Petitions to sign:

infographic on why YOU SHOULD NOT DONATE TO CHANGE DOT ORG

one of the most comprehensive, well-rounded, and well researchd compilations of blm related resources (includes petitions, donation links, venmo accounts, names of people in need, etc) thats out there. please share this link everywhere and anywhere. 

a black lives matter carrd that includes petitions, donation links, blm movement information, links on how to donate to BLM without spending money, black owned businesses, etc. 

a black lives matter carrd that lists all the petitions that need to be signatures all in one place!

Justice for George Floyd

Justice for George Floyd 2

Justice for George Floyd 3

Charge the Officers Responsible for George Floyd’s Murder 

Charge the Officers Responsible for George Floyd’s Murder 2

Justice For Ahmuad Arbery

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Justice for Breonna Taylor

Stand with Breonna

Charge Officers Responsible for Breonna Taylor’s Murder

Justice For Tamir Rice

Justice For Tamir Rice 2

Justice For Joāo Pedro

Justice for Alejandro Vargas Martinez

Justice for Belly Mujinga.

Justice for Rashad Cunningham

Justice For Tony McDade

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Justice for Jennifer Jeffley

Justice for Young Uwa

Justice for Elijah Nichols

Justice for Tete Gulley

Justice for Tazne Van Wyk

Justice for Michael Dean

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Free Siyanda

Reopen Sandra Bland’s Case 

Free Willie Simmons who has served 38 years for a $9 robbery

Get Washington State to Hold Police Officers Accountable for Police Brutality

Arrest Officer Jared Campbell for macing a child 

Demand Jail Time for Dylan Mota and Jacob Robles

Demand Jail Time for All Police who Murder Innocent People

Fire Racist Criminal Michael J Reynolds from the NYPD

Petition for Nationwide Police De-Escalation Training

Petition for Nationwide Police Required Racial Bias Test

stop immigrants being poisoned by ICE

Ban the use of inhumane rubber bullets

Demand a retrial for Angel Bumpass wrongfully convicted 13 year old with a life sentence

End Police Brutality and Violence Against BIPOC in the USA

Ban the use of rubber bullets for crowd control

Join Campaign Zero

Drop All Charges Against Incarcerated Trafficking Survivor Chrystul Kizer!

Reopen Kendrick Johnson's Case

Abolish Prison Labour in the USA

Require Dash and Body Cameras for the King County Sheriff's Office

Demand a retrial for Angel Bumpass wrongfully convicted 13 year old with a life sentence

Sign the Police Accountability Act into Law

Justice for Elijah Nichols 

Exonerate Eric Riddick

Justice For Luz Gonzalez!

Support a new law to be made in Trayvon Martin's name to stop from claiming self defense after aggravated murder

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Issue a State executive order to hold police accountable for unlawful action

Don't let Julius Jones be executed by the state of Oklahoma

Help pass the Hands Up Act, which prohibits police officers from shooting unarmed citizens and carries a mandatory 15-year prison sentence if there isn’t a weapon found after someone has been shot by a police officer

A twitter thread linking to many, many Brazilian Petition that still need signatures

Justice for Jamarion Robinson

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Fire Jared Campbell

Dismiss the charges on Marshae Jones and charge the one who shot her and her unborn baby

Justice for Anderson Arboleda [Petition only in Español] 

Drop Charges Against Trafficking Survivor Chrystul Kizer

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Reopen Kenneka Jenkins Case

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Justice for Christopher

Abolish Confederate Branding at Richland High School

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Make Juneteenth a Federal Holiday

Ban the use of rubber bullets for crowd control

Make Lynching a Federal Crime

Tell Congress you support making lynching a federal hate crime

Demand Capezio provide skin color inclusive dance clothing

Justice for Kylie Lindsey and Isabella Chinchilla

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Justice for Alaa

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Justice for Elijah McClain 2

Demand The KKK be declared a terrorist group

Demand The KKK be declared a terrorist group 2

Demand The KKK be declared a terrorist group 3

Reopen the case of Sandra Bland

Reopen the case of Kenneka Jenkins 

Justice for Jonas Joseph

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Justice for Cláudia Ferreira

Justice for James Scurlock

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Demand Justice for Darren Rainey

Justice for LeVena Johnson!

Justice for Maurice Gordon Jr.

Justice for Alton Sterling

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Justice for Dominique Fells

Justice for Gregory Johnson, Jr.

Justice For Darrius Stewart

Arrest Jennifer Watson for Attempted Murder

Justice for Andile Mchunu

Justice for Christopher Josey

Grant Clemency to Crosley Green

Ban The Use of Tear Gas on Civilians

Justice For Tyler Lumar

Justice for Alaa

Ban The Confederate Flag From Public Schools

Remove 20ft Confederate "Stonewall" Jackson statue from Manassas National Battlefield Park

Justice for Tshego Pule

Justice for Tyler J Evans

Donation Links

A thread of Youtuve videos you can stream to donate to BLM

Official George Floyd Memorial Fund

OFFICIAL Gianna Floyd Fund (George Floyd's child)

Black Lives Matter

We Cant Breathe

43 Bail Funds to Support

Homeless Black Trans women fund

Split a donation between 70+ community bail funds, mutual aid funds, and racial justice organizers

Minnesota Healing Justice Network

Women for Political Change

Spiral Collective

When We All Vote

National List of Bail and Mutual Aid Funds/Organizers/Black Owned Businesses

Venmo names of black trans people that need help

Latino Community on Lake Street

Black Immigrant Collective

Centro de Trabajadores Unidos en Lucha

Atlanta Black Owned Business Relief

Al Maa'uun

Remembering Shana Isuroon 

Fundraising for destroyed black owned businesses

Joyce Preschool

Black Table Arts

Northside business support

Du Nord Riot Recovery Fund

Unicorn Riot

Donate to Destiny Harrison & her daughter Dream’s Legacy

Pimento Relief Fund

Southside Harm Reduction

West Broadway Business and Area Coalition

Division of Indian Work

TC Care Collective

Justice for Breonna Taylor

Justice for Jamee

Justice for David McAtee

Donate to Brandon Saenz who was shot in the left eye by a rubber bullet, and lost the eye, several teeth, and had facial fractures that required several surgeries

HOW TO DONATE INTERNATIONALLY/SITES THAT ACCEPT INTERNATIONAL CURRENCY 

HOW DONATE WITH NO MONEY

HOW TO DONATE WITH NO MONEY BY STREAMING THIS

HOW TO DONATE TO BLM BY SHARING LINKS

A list of black owned businesses we should be supporting! + a list of black owned businesses we should be supporting that accept international currency!

DO NOT DONATE TO SHAUN KING

DO NOT DONATE TO CHANGE.ORG

Donation for Justice for Saraneka “Nemo” Martin — pregnant protester shot during protest

Donations for Mike Ramos

Donations for Elijah McClain

Donations for Elijah McClain 2

* this list is constantly updated (new links added at the bottom) so please keep checking back for new information on petitions and ways to donate!!

updated as of 11 october 2020 — please continue to send me the petitions and fundraisers that you come across so i can add them!!  

[phoenixyfriend]

Tread Upon the Wind (and Chase the Sky): Chapter Two

Read on AO3

Anakin has a droid named "eeby-deeby"

----

Mace is ‘captured’ by Skywalker again. He asks why. He is told, by the Domino Twins, that it is because he is ‘fun,’ and that he should put more effort into not being captured by pretty strangers.

“Who’s the pretty one?” he asks, more amused than he should be.

They look at each other.

“Officially, it’s General Skywalker,” 14 says.

“Bullshit, it’s me.” 27 counters.

“We’re identical.”

“Lies, I’ve got a cool tattoo.”

This is new information. It sure would help if Mace knew a single thing about what they actually look like under their helmets.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says.

“No, no, point,” 27 says. “You’ve been hanging around quite a bit—”

14 nods. “Common guest, you should get frequent flyer miles for that.”

“—and at this point, I think you’ve earned a look at our faces.”

Mace blinks. “Thank… you?”

“You seem surprised.”

“I was told your reticence to remove your helmets indicated you might be of a traditionalist sect that refuses to show face to any but immediate family and spouses,” Mace tells them. “I’m surprised you’re not.”

“Oh, no, it’s just opsec,” 27 tells him. “Means we can go out in civvies without worrying about someone matching us to a wanted poster.”

“The pleasures of an anonymous face,” 14 adds. 27 just giggles.

Mace has no idea what the joke in that is.

14 takes off his helmet. Mace carefully does not react to the alterations built into his skull. They would be so very easy to break—he can see every shatterpoint—and it’s no wonder he keeps it hidden under the helmet and a few inches of hair.

27 takes off his helmet as well. They are near-identical, disregarding 14’s implants and the facial hair on 27. 27 is a tad bit darker, and somewhat fuller in the face, but the only other difference is—

“Why do you have a tattoo of a five?”

The man grins widely. “It’s my name.”

“…what?”

“Fives. My actual name is Fives.”

14 waves. “And I’m Echo.”

Mace stares at Fives. “Your name is a number… and you chose a different number?”

“Well, I also chose Fives,” he says. “Because I wasn’t born to a name. I got a number.”

What.

“CT-27-5555,” he says.

Echo chimes in, “CT-26-1409, here.”

“I see,” Mace says. He does not. It’s probably obvious in his voice. “You… I won’t ask more.”

“Polite of you,” Fives says, head tilting back just enough that his eyes go half-closed when he looks at Mace. He’s got his arms back to cradle his neck, and is pushing his chair up and back onto just the rear legs. He looks a right scoundrel.

“How long have you known Skywalker?” Mace asks.

“Uh… two and a half years with the GAR, then maybe a year and a half since we got here?” Fives guesses. He looks to Echo, who shrugs.

“Sounds about right,” Echo says. “Four years, then.”

“And your relationship with him is…” Mace trails off, hoping to prompt something, but they just stare at him. He thinks it’s deliberate. “Most assume you’re hired support or, when unkind, ‘minions.’”

“We’re definitely minions,” Fives immediately says.

Echo smacks him upside the head. He doesn’t even look when he does it, just keeps on facing Mace. “We’re former military subordinates that are friends, now that we’re no longer in that military structure. We follow his lead in the field, because jet’osik tends to give him warnings we can’t sense.”

“And sometimes we bang,” Fives adds. Echo smacks him again. “What? We do!”

Mace shifts uncomfortably.

“Not what he asked,” Echo says.

“Technically is,” Fives mumbles, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Not his business what we do with the General behind closed doors,” Echo snaps. “Anyway, the General wouldn’t want us sharing that stuff.”

“Why do you still call him that?” Mace asks, more than a little ready to skip… whatever this conversation is. “If you’re not part of the military anymore?”

“Habit,” Fives says, irritation with his twin forgotten. “And context. We don’t call him that all the time, but… work-life balance. General when we’re in the armor, Anakin if we’re, y’know, visiting his family or something.”

That makes sense. He casts about for a question that isn’t… official.

“What’s pokin’ you?” Fives prompts.

“Well, I’d like to ask about the banking clan attacks,” Mace says, “but that feels a little forward, considering what we were just discussing.”

“Oh, ask away,” Fives says. Echo’s smirking behind him, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. “You might not get answers, but you can ask.”

“Where did the money go?”

“Everywhere,” Fives says. “Power to the people, all that stuff. I mean, we kept some of it for our overhead, weapons and ships and hiring in other people when we need them, but most of it went to local charities of whichever place they were kriffing over for the past few centuries.”

“Sometimes local governments that were getting overtaxed by supposed higher level representation with no actual benefits,” Echo adds.

“There were thousands of accounts,” Mace says. “How did you manage to know which ones were guilty, and of what? How did you have the time to write up the indictments and reroute the money appropriately?”

“Some former slaves are much better with numbers and data than their masters ever wanted to acknowledge,” Fives tells him. “Hired a few in for a couple months as data analysts, and we were golden.”

“Who did the slicing?”

Echo raises a hand. “Guilty as charged.”

“How?”

“Well,” Echo says, looking up in feigned thought, “Once upon a time, I was captured by a team that included Federation security droids, and secretly experimented on by a member of the Tech Union, who drilled me full of fun little holes that let me wire my brain directly into their technology.”

He taps one of the ports in his skull. He smiles. It is brittle. “Figured it would be a nice ‘hoist by your own kute’ play to turn it back around on ‘em all. I am the back door. They built me that way.”

(Continue on AO3)

[iconuk01]

Star Wars thoughts..

This was put together to reply on another thread completely, but got so long I felt it would risk unfairly derailing a perfectly interesting pre-existing discussion, but I put a lot of thought into this so why waste it? :)

I think one of my major issues with the Jedi is that, whilst the message of "no attachments" George Lucas was trying to convey is a genuinely worthy and beautiful one, he was absolutely abysmal at explaining it in the movie itself.

Most of the viewers would be unlikely to come with a pre-prepared understanding of Buddhist teachings and philosophy. So there was an onus on him to explain what he meant, and he really... doesn't. Look at The Phantom Menace, the first meeting between Anakin and the Jedi Council.

YODA : Good, good, young one. How feel you?

ANAKIN : Cold, sir.

YODA : Afraid are you?

ANAKIN : No, sir.

MACE WINDU : Afraid to give up your life?

ANAKIN : I don't think so. ANAKIN hesitates for a moment.

YODA : See through you, we can.

MACE WINDU : Be mindful of your feelings...

KI-ADI : Your thoughts dwell on your mother.

ANAKIN : I miss her.

YODA : Afraid to lose her..I think. ANAKIN : (a little angry) What's that got to do with anything?

YODA : Eveything. Fear is the path to the dark side... fear leads to anger... anger leads to hate.. hate leads to suffering.

ANAKIN : (angrily) I am not afraid!

YODA : A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind. I sense much fear in you. What the hell kind of way is that to talk to a nine year old newly-ex-slave? Especially who has just been separated from his mother, friends, society and entire homeworld for the first time and probably hasn't even slept since then? Given the scale of the changes confronting him, a little fear about missing his mother is a perfectly natural response, as is a degree of defiance in front of people this 9 year old wants to impress but has no context for dealing with. If even one of these twelve most wise Jedi had spoken kindly to this lost and lonely kid, had explained to him (and thus to the viewer by proxy) that "Yes, we understand your fear, it's a natural thing, but our teachings will help you to move past that fear and embrace a fuller, more meaningful life as a Jedi" from the outset they might not have just come across as dismissive and approaching the callous. And the next thing they say to Anakin, two scenes later, is that they won't train him, and keep talking ABOUT him, never TO him, when he's standing right there in front of them. They also don't offer any alternatives to him about what sort of a life he might have outside the Jedi Order. A Jedi Knight brought him in and, whether they train him or not, the Council have assumed a responsibility for this child that not one of them acknowledge.

Instead they start talking about every other political plot point for the rest of the scene. It makes me wonder how many non-Padawan children they ever actually spoke to.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Weapons

So I have a post about swords already but I have decided to update it with a look at more weapons that can be wielded in fantasy battles. These weapons below were wielded in different time periods and by different sorts of warriors. Each link shows the damage these weapons could do to armour or the human body. (disclaimer: do not attempt this at home and there mentions and sights of blood and dismemberment.)

Swords

Swords are to fantasy as sand is to a beach. But they aren't always the common cross shape we see. Swords come in all kinds of sizes and all kinds of ability.

Anatomy of a typical blade

Crossguard: This is the part of the sword between the hilt and blade. This protects the hand from slipping and can be used as a weapon in itself.

Hilt: This is the part you hold. Also called a grip. Most gilts would me wrapped with leather for comfort and for better grasp.

Blade: The sharp end, duh

Pommel: This is a weight screwed into the hilt meant to ensure the sword is balanced.

Fuller: This is a hollow running up the sword. It makes the sword lighter.

Edge: The sharpened sides of the blade. Swords can be singular or double edged.

The point: The pointy bit at the top to stick into the enemy. (jon snow logic)

Kinds of swords

Gladius: An Ancient Roman blade used by gladiators and then legionaires. There is no crossguard. It is also called a shortsword. Made for stabbing rather than slashing.

Xiphos: A double-edged, single-handed sword used by Ancient Greeks. The blade is commonly leaf shaped made for slashing.

Rapier: This is a slender blade used by Renaissance warriors. This blade might not be able to hack a head but its light weight makes the blade an asset in speed. The rapier often had a caged-like crossguard to protect the hand from injury.

Katana: The infamous Japanese curved samurai sword. This is single-edged and the blade is hammered thin. Like most Japanese swords it was made for speed and deadly sharp.

Scimitar: A curved blade with a singled edge popular in Central Asia. The scimitar ranged from a thick sword to thin, wielded most effectively on horseback.

Shamshir: The shamshir is a curved Persian/Iranian sword. Shamshīr which means "lion's fang" is a one handed blade often single edged.

Longsword: The go to Medieval and Renaissance weapon commonly used with with two hands. The Longsword was a slender blade, hammer straight and was typically double edged.

Khopesh: The Khopesh is a hooked-shaped African blade wielded by the guards of Egyptian Pharaohs.

Mace/Morning Star

The Mace is probably the second most common weapons seen on the battlefield. The Mace is a thick ball of steel usually spiked resting on top of a haft of wood. The Mace is an easy enough weapon to use (step 1: beat opponent until subdued). The Mace and morning star are fixed upon the halft while the flail is the more mobile one swinging from the half by rope or short chain. You can see it in action right here.

Warhammer

The Warhammer was a weapon wielded by some medieval soldiers made of a haft of wood and an hammer-like head. The actual blade itself could be blunted like hammers we see today or edged like blades, meant for cutting as well as crushing. The back usually featured a hook-like pommel that could also be used as a weapon, able to pierce armour and flesh. The Warhammer was an effective weapon in battle.

Poleaxe

The Poleaxe was the weapon usually wielded by infrantry in the middle ages. It was constructed from a wooden haft with a steel head, usually curved at the front for slashing, set with a spike at the back and top for stabbing. The Poleaxe would be used for charging and for defence. The whole idea behind this many pronged weapon was to puncture, slash from a safe distance. The haft of the weapon could be used to trip and to maim an opponent. You can see it in action here. There were many variations of the Poleaxe namely the bill and the Halberd.

Pikes

The humble Pike is often mixed up with a Halberd and the Poleaxe. It is a long weapon, formed of a metal spike and a long wooden halft. The Pike would be used en masse by infrantry to deflect calvary and protect cannoniers and artillery from attack. Pikes were very effective if one wanted to stopper a full blown calvary charge. Outlaw King has a scene where this can be seen.

Axes

Axes have been used in battle for millenia. The Axe is a weapon that has evolved through out history and over the course of many cultures. Axes were used by soldiers in battles and raids, both as a close-quarters weapon and as a long range weapon. The Axe had numerous forms: throwing axes such as the francisca, short-hafted hand wielded axes and long-hafted Lochaber axes.