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illbefinealonereads · 4 years

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Blog tour day! Today I’m sharing some information about Lobizona by Romina Garber, as well as an excerpt. Scroll down to learn more.

Some people ARE illegal.

Lobizonas do NOT exist.

Both of these statements are false.

Manuela Azul has been crammed into an existence that feels too small for her. As an undocumented immigrant who's on the run from her father's Argentine crime-family, Manu is confined to a small apartment and a small life in Miami, Florida.

Until Manu's protective bubble is shattered.

Her surrogate grandmother is attacked, lifelong lies are exposed, and her mother is arrested by ICE. Without a home, without answers, and finally without shackles, Manu investigates the only clue she has about her past—a mysterious "Z" emblem—which leads her to a secret world buried within our own. A world connected to her dead father and his criminal past. A world straight out of Argentine folklore, where the seventh consecutive daughter is born a bruja and the seventh consecutive son is a lobizón, a werewolf. A world where her unusual eyes allow her to belong.

As Manu uncovers her own story and traces her real heritage all the way back to a cursed city in Argentina, she learns it's not just her U.S. residency that's illegal. . . .it’s her entire existence.

Early Praise: “With vivid characters that take on a life of their own, beautiful details that peel back the curtain on Romina's Argentinian heritage, and cutting prose that shines a light on the difficulties of being the ‘other’ in America today, Romina Garber crafts a timely tale of identity and adventure that every teenager should read.”–Tomi Adeyemi New York Times bestselling author of Children of Blood and Bone

“Romina Garber has created an enthralling young adult fantasy led by an unforgettable Latinx character Manu. In Manu we find a young girl who not only must contend with the injustice of being undocumented she also discovers a hidden world that may explain her very existence. I fell in love with this world where wolves, witches and magic thrives, all in a rich Latinx setting!” –Lilliam Rivera, author of Dealing in Dreams and The Education of Margot Sanchez

Buy Link:https://read.macmillan.com/lp/lobizona/

Author bio:

ROMINA GARBER (pen name Romina Russell) is a New York Times and international bestselling author. Originally from Argentina, she landed her first writing gig as a teen—a weekly column for the Miami Herald that was later nationally syndicated—and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Her books include Lobizona. When she’s not working on a novel, Romina can be found producing movie trailers, taking photographs, or daydreaming about buying a new drum set. She is a graduate of Harvard College and a Virgo to the core.

Social Links: Twitter: @RominaRussell // Instagram: @rominagarber

Excerpt:

I awaken with a jolt.

It takes me a moment to register that I’ve been out for three days. I can tell by the well-rested feeling in my bones—I don’t sleep this well any other time of the month.

The first thing I’m aware of as I sit up is an urgent need to use the bathroom. My muscles are heavy from lack of use, and it takes some concentration to keep my steps light so I won’t wake Ma or Perla. I leave the lights off to avoid meeting my gaze in the mirror, and after tossing out my heavy-duty period pad and replacing it with a tampon, I tiptoe back to Ma’s and my room.

I’m always disoriented after lunaritis, so I feel separate from my waking life as I survey my teetering stacks of journals and used books, Ma’s yoga mat and collection of weights, and the posters on the wall of the planets and constellations I hope to visit one day.

After a moment, my shoulders slump in disappointment.

This month has officially peaked.

I yank the bleach-stained blue sheets off the mattress and slide out the pillows from their cases, balling up the bedding to wash later. My body feels like a crumpled piece of paper that needs to be stretched, so I plant my feet together in the tiny area between the bed and the door, and I raise my hands and arch my back, lengthening my spine disc by disc. The pull on my tendons releases stored tension, and I exhale in relief.

Something tugs at my consciousness, an unresolved riddle that must have timed out when I surfaced . . . but the harder I focus, the quicker I forget. Swinging my head forward, I reach down to touch my toes and stretch my spine the other way—

My ears pop so hard, I gasp.

I stumble back to the mattress, and I cradle my head in my hands as a rush of noise invades my mind. The buzzing of a fly in the window blinds, the gunning of a car engine on the street below, the groaning of our building’s prehistoric eleva- tor. Each sound is so crisp, it’s like a filter was just peeled back from my hearing.

My pulse picks up as I slide my hands away from my temples to trace the outlines of my ears. I think the top parts feel a little . . . pointier.

I ignore the tingling in my eardrums as I cut through the living room to the kitchen, and I fill a stained green bowl with cold water. Ma’s asleep on the turquoise couch because we don’t share our bed this time of the month. She says I thrash around too much in my drugged dreams.

I carefully shut the apartment door behind me as I step out into the building’s hallway, and I crack open our neighbor’s window to slide the bowl through. A black cat leaps over to lap up the drink.

“Hola, Mimitos,” I say, stroking his velvety head. Since we’re both confined to this building, I hear him meowing any time his owner, Fanny, forgets to feed him. I think she’s going senile.

“I’ll take you up with me later, after lunch. And I’ll bring you some turkey,” I add, shutting the window again quickly. I usually let him come with me, but I prefer to spend the morn- ings after lunaritis alone. Even if I’m no longer dreaming, I’m not awake either.

My heart is still beating unusually fast as I clamber up six flights of stairs. But I savor the burn of my sedentary muscles, and when at last I reach the highest point, I swing open the door to the rooftop.

It’s not quite morning yet, and the sky looks like blue- tinged steel. Surrounding me are balconies festooned with colorful clotheslines, broken-down properties with boarded- up windows, fuzzy-leaved palm trees reaching up from the pitted streets . . . and in the distance, the ground and sky blur where the Atlantic swallows the horizon.

El Retiro is a rundown apartment complex with all elderly residents—mostly Cuban, Colombian, Venezuelan, Nicara- guan, and Argentine immigrants. There’s just one slow, loud elevator in the building, and since I’m the youngest person here, I never use it in case someone else needs it.

I came up here hoping for a breath of fresh air, but since it’s summertime, there’s no caress of a breeze to greet me. Just the suffocating embrace of Miami’s humidity.

Smothering me.

I close my eyes and take in deep gulps of musty oxygen, trying to push the dread down to where it can’t touch me. The way Perla taught me to do whenever I get anxious.

My metamorphosis started this year. I first felt something

was different four full moons ago, when I no longer needed to squint to study the ground from up here. I simply opened my eyes to perfect vision.

The following month, my hair thickened so much that I had to buy bigger clips to pin it back. Next menstrual cycle came the growth spurt that left my jeans three inches too short, and last lunaritis I awoke with such a heightened sense of smell that I could sniff out what Ma and Perla had for dinner all three nights I was out.

It’s bad enough to feel the outside world pressing in on me, but now even my insides are spinning out of my control.

As Perla’s breathing exercises relax my thoughts, I begin to feel the stirrings of my dreamworld calling me back. I slide onto the rooftop’s ledge and lie back along the warm cement, my body as stagnant as the stale air. A dragon-shaped cloud comes apart like cotton, and I let my gaze drift with Miami’s hypnotic sky, trying to call up the dream’s details before they fade . . .

What Ma and Perla don’t know about the Septis is they don’t simply sedate me for sixty hours—they transport me.

Every lunaritis, I visit the same nameless land of magic and mist and monsters. There’s the golden grass that ticks off time by turning silver as the day ages; the black-leafed trees that can cry up storms, their dewdrop tears rolling down their bark to form rivers; the colorful waterfalls that warn onlookers of oncoming danger; the hope-sucking Sombras that dwell in darkness and attach like parasitic shadows . . .

And the Citadel.

It’s a place I instinctively know I’m not allowed to go, yet I’m always trying to get to. Whenever I think I’m going to make it inside, I wake up with a start.

Picturing the black stone wall, I see the thorny ivy that

twines across its surface like a nest of guardian snakes, slith- ering and bunching up wherever it senses a threat.

The sharper the image, the sleepier I feel, like I’m slowly sliding back into my dream, until I reach my hand out tenta- tively. If I could just move faster than the ivy, I could finally grip the opal doorknob before the thorns—

Howling breaks my reverie.

I blink, and the dream disappears as I spring to sitting and scour the battered buildings. For a moment, I’m sure I heard a wolf.

My spine locks at the sight of a far more dangerous threat: A cop car is careening in the distance, its lights flashing and siren wailing. Even though the black-and-white is still too far away to see me, I leap down from the ledge and take cover behind it, the old mantra running through my mind.

Don’t come here, don’t come here, don’t come here.

A familiar claustrophobia claws at my skin, an affliction forged of rage and shame and powerlessness that’s been my companion as long as I’ve been in this country. Ma tells me I should let her worry about this stuff and only concern myself with studying, so when our papers come through, I can take my GED and one day make it to NASA—but it’s impossible not to worry when I’m constantly having to hide.

My muscles don’t uncoil until the siren’s howling fades and the police are gone, but the morning’s spell of stillness has broken. A door slams, and I instinctively turn toward the pink building across the street that’s tattooed with territorial graf- fiti. Where the alternate version of me lives.

I call her Other Manu.

The first thing I ever noticed about her was her Argentine fútbol jersey: #10 Lionel Messi. Then I saw her face and real- ized we look a lot alike. I was reading Borges at the time, and

it ocurred to me that she and I could be the same person in overlapping parallel universes.

But it’s an older man and not Other Manu who lopes down the street. She wouldn’t be up this early on a Sunday anyway. I arch my back again, and thankfully this time, the only pop I hear is in my joints.

The sun’s golden glare is strong enough that I almost wish I had my sunglasses. But this rooftop is sacred to me because it’s the only place where Ma doesn’t make me wear them, since no one else comes up here.

I’m reaching for the stairwell door when I hear it.

Faint footsteps are growing louder, like someone’s racing up. My heart shoots into my throat, and I leap around the corner right as the door swings open.

The person who steps out is too light on their feet to be someone who lives here. No El Retiro resident could make it up the stairs that fast. I flatten myself against the wall.

“Creo que encontré algo, pero por ahora no quiero decir nada.”

Whenever Ma is upset with me, I have a habit of translat- ing her words into English without processing them. I asked Perla about it to see if it’s a common bilingual thing, and she said it’s probably my way of keeping Ma’s anger at a distance; if I can deconstruct her words into language—something de- tached that can be studied and dissected—I can strip them of their charge.

As my anxiety kicks in, my mind goes into automatic trans- lation mode: I think I found something, but I don’t want to say anything yet.

The woman or girl (it’s hard to tell her age) has a deep, throaty voice that’s sultry and soulful, yet her singsongy accent is unquestionably Argentine. Or Uruguayan. They sound similar.

My cheek is pressed to the wall as I make myself as flat as possible, in case she crosses my line of vision.

“Si tengo razón, me harán la capitana más joven en la his- toria de los Cazadores.”

If I’m right, they’ll make me the youngest captain in the history of the . . . Cazadores? That means hunters.

In my eight years living here, I’ve never seen another per- son on this rooftop. Curious, I edge closer, but I don’t dare peek around the corner. I want to see this stranger’s face, but not badly enough to let her see mine.

“¿El encuentro es ahora? Che, Nacho, ¿vos no me podrías cubrir?”

Is the meeting right now? Couldn’t you cover for me, Nacho?

The che and vos sound like Argentinespeak. What if it’s Other Manu?

The exciting possibility brings me a half step closer, and now my nose is inches from rounding the corner. Maybe I can sneak a peek without her noticing.

“Okay,” I hear her say, and her voice sounds like she’s just a few paces away.

I suck in a quick inhale, and before I can overthink it, I pop my head out—

And see the door swinging shut.

I scramble over and tug it open, desperate to spot even a hint of her hair, any clue at all to confirm it was Other Manu— but she’s already gone.

All that remains is a wisp of red smoke that vanishes with the swiftness of a morning cloud.

Excerpted from Lobizona by Romina Garber. Published by Wednesday Books.

#lobizona #romina garber #blog tour #excerpt

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monkey-network · 4 years

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Good Stuff's Best of 2019

WARNING: Just wanted to say cheers to you for making it through another year. I send you best wishes for next year to be fruitful. Thank you, take care out there, and enjoy. (Best of 2017) (Best of 2018)

Dedicated to Russi Taylor, John Witherspoon, Rip Torn, Tartar Sauce, Caroll Spinney, Peter Matthews, and the many of KyoAni lost in the arson incident. You all did wonderful; rest in peace.

Welp, I figured the last year of this decade would be the most chaotic one by far, then again everything peak after 2012. As for now, I am counting down the best cartoons/animations/comics I’ve seen and loved this year in no particular order other than #1. Same rules apply: No sneak previews of future projects, no repeats, and this time anything goes.

Runner Ups: Superman Smashes the Klan, Marvel’s Aero, Infinity Train, Enter the Florpus, Amphibia, Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart, Helluva Boss, Meta Runner, Lego Movie 2, Forky Asks a Question

Anyways, Badda boom bang whiz, let’s do this shizz...

10. Super Mario Bros GT

Nostalgia can be quite a mystery, especially one that can come out of nowhere. Super Mario Bros Z kicked so much ass as a kid that now, it still frustrates me to this that it got a cease & desist from Nintendo, even the reboot from the same person couldn’t last long. But the gods have offered a slight miracle in the form of this new spiritual successor that has heart and soul put into every pixelated frame. There is much to celebrate with Youtube animation, where many say it’s dying due to the algorithm and all of the site’s corporate bullshit, but it’s stuff like this which helps me understand why we should celebrate. Against all odds, channels like Smasher Block willfully put their works out their for the people and continues to because on top of getting a little dough, it’s what they want to do.

9. DC SUPER HERO GIRLS (2019)

Awwwwww yeah, this is She-Ra and the Princesses of Power done right. Diverse female squad, each given a quality screen time to truly shine (Beecher especially) on their which makes the episodes where they’re all together feel earned and joyous to watch. Certainly reminds me of Friendship is Magic, which is coincidental since they were created by the same woman. I’d like to think this and MLP G4 were the answers to Faust’s cancelled project Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls where multiple personalities collide to one extraordinary superhero team of girls capable great feats that are lifted from their insecurities or drawbacks. And on top of this being a fun series to kick back to all around, it’s a comforting, somewhat aspiring thought to consider.

8. JOKER

I am somebody that rarely goes to the theaters to watch a film; you have to hook my tight just for me to even think of buying a ticket, no less plan to. But honestly, Joker was worth the hype, the ticket, and the fact that it wasn’t the incel uprising that buttfuck normies tried to make it out as. It’s lower on the list because in thought, there definitely could’ve been some tweaks to the dialogue and a couple scenes that I felt didn’t work in the long run. But really, this movie to me worked because of the escalation that leads to a cathartic climax and ending that left me in actual tears. I don’t give a shit if it “doesn’t fit”, having Frank Sinatra sing the film's credits put me in shambles. Joaquin Phoenix was phenomenal as Arthur, and this movie felt authentic in its many details. This is definitely up there with my favorite comic book films of all time. Good thing, too, Spider-Man was taking up most of that shelf.

7. TUCA & BERTIE

This series being what I can’t help but say is a spin-off to Bojack Horseman, a show I respect, was enough to pull me into watching it. But it being like Bojack where it’s tight-roping between a bouncy comedy and a grounded drama was what kept me around for more. It is a damn shame this was cancelled after one season (while 13 Reasons Why gets FOUR seasons like what the fuck), because while this did feel enough like a complete series, I was certainly interested for more because I really enjoyed it all. I have my issue with a couple choices in the show, but I am sure this series would’ve addressed them later down the line. I can see why some women would find this personally endearing, it felt like the personal stories of actual people, and it deserved better. Either way, I enjoyed this series and I recommend it just as much as Bojack.

6. PRIMAL

Genndy Tartakovsky is that kind of cartoon creator where you feel he’ll go beyond if you give him the right amount of space. He’s not a perfectionist like John “Dirty Diddler” Kricfalusi, but with things like Hotel Transylvania and Samurai Jack, he certainly has proven to have the range in animation where you know how he plays. Primal showcasing his noted skill in dialogue-less storytelling and dynamic action scenes, able to convey everything clear with its ruthless yet careful protagonist and his dinosaur friend, all on top of the most luscious backgrounds. This is a series that definitely feels like Genndy’s taken what he’s used from his previous works and putting it together for a brutal yet passionate look at the prehistoric life. He truly brought us an adult series to enjoy and to look forward to more in the coming year.

5. SPINEL

Bet you didn’t expect a character to be on this list, eh? Spinel is the best thing to come out of Steven Universe in general; makes me wish she was in a better movie. The crew certainly did their darndest to make her not only an enjoyable and connectable character through and through, but a very versatile character that the fandom could take in any which way. Call it corny, but Spinel perfectly represents SU as a whole: a lovable goof that can certainly mean business but deep down is deserved of a hug because of what she’s gone through. Wish she had a more satisfying resolution in her respective debut, but really it’s the balance between those three elements mentioned that makes Spinel almost eternally wonderful.

4. MOB PSYCHO 100 II

As someone that doesn’t like reading, I’m a firm believer that the best animations or visual medias elevate the writing to a memorable degree; the visuals hook to the point where you want to think about what you saw and how it was conveyed. Mob Psycho 100, for two seasons now, does this in spades where Studio Bones throw them bones in animating one of the most dynamic animes of the modern era, providing the writing and characters a proper chance to flex its muscles. The characters are especially what makes this and MP100 as a whole work so well, the story being about a boy learning to be more sociable as well as emotionally stronger all while helping others understand maturity and empathy. For more on this, I recommend Hiding in Public’s video(s) on Mob. But with the animation, Bones was able to provide a sense of impact and immersion to the moments that matter, not making it an overstimulating mess, and putting some respect on ONE’s webcomic art style.

3. KLAUS

Hands down, this is a great Christmas movie. Take away the animation and you have a charming, wanna say ground and authentic, story about the makings of Santa Claus. With memorable and likable characters, a nice escalation in terms of the plot, and moments that are/can be so satisfying, they can bring you to tears. A couple overdone tropes in the road that doesn’t make this the most perfected story, but those sincerely minor compared to everything else that makes this story the best. Now. Add in the animation, and you have a gold, nay a platinum animated story of the year where the visuals definitely enhance the story to a degree where they’re undoubtedly inseparable. The visuals alone is enough to check this movie out and it’s eye-opening when you learn of how it’s all done. Klaus is a film that did it’s job and then some, and I hope this will be well remembered as a classic holiday film for it deserves that status.

2. BEASTARS

I’ll be fair, I’m mostly referring to the manga and not the anime but since the anime premiered this fall, it counts. Because be it the anime or the series overall, Beastars has such well intricate world building all while offering a little something for everyone (violence, romance, slice of life). The story is well paced and even when we aren’t focusing on the main characters momentarily, Itagaki is surprisingly able to make every supporting/side character we come across memorable in their own way; like I said before, the city is much a character in this story. Oh yeah, and the mangaka is the daughter of Keisuke “Grappler Baki” Itagaki, that in itself is a treasuring bit of trivia for this. Everything about Beastars is enticing and Studio Orange certainly helped in giving this series more of a following.

1. GREEN EGGS & HAM

Well, well, well. Guess Netflix is three for three in terms of bringing its best foot forward among its few steps back each year. The best term to describe this series is surprising. Surprising that this is a Dr. Seuss story that got expanded a 13 episode series, that has fleshed out characters, fun hijinks, an easy story, lovely emotional, more quieter moments... on top of being 2D hand drawn animated. I mean, what else is there to say? Green Eggs and Ham is to Dr. Seuss what Seven was for Final Fantasy, what Friendship is Magic was for MLP, what watermelon was before a nice menthol cigarette. This definitely took the top spot because to me, it was able to bring many good elements from the previous entries and knot it all together into a well kept bow that I never knew I wanted until now. I’m genuinely glad this show got to exist the way it is and I am hoping, praying, that the second season keeps that momentum up.

That leads us to the actual number one which is

1. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUT-

Total Dramarama is now the two time World Heavyweight Champion, babey. Will 2020 give us a quality contender? Will the streak last another year?

Stay tuned, and always seek out the Good Stuff.

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dungeonecologist · 5 years

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WILD ARMS 2 - Undertraffic & Damzen region

This is kind of a tiny one by itself, so I'll pad it out with monsters from the new overworld area as well:

We head underground and navigate the cave by shuffling around boxes of explosives and blowing up rocks. Cleverly this puzzle mechanic is only explained after we exit, when it turns out the explosives are there because the terrorist organization we’re about to run into used them to cave in the tunnel. Also I like that one of the puzzles requires us to use the boxes to make a bridge rather than blow them up, giving this limited asset a tiny bit of versatility. Really well built dungeon, albeit short and inconsequential in the bigger picture. Doesn’t even get a boss monster.just the semi-standard 3 monster fare: in this case the Gob, Tatzlewurm, and Dryad...

Gobs are a Wild Arms staple and a quirky abbreviation for Goblins. They’re pretty standard swords & sorcery, Dungeons & Dragons fare. In the broadest mythological terms Goblins are... Generic...

A goblin is a monstrous creature from European folklore, first attested in stories from the Middle Ages. They are ascribed various and conflicting abilities, temperaments and appearances depending on the story and country of origin. They are almost always small and grotesque, mischievous or outright malicious, and greedy, especially for gold and jewelry. They often have magical abilities similar to a fairy or demon.

But in more recent pop culture they’re solidly characterized as semi-organized and often warlike humanoids, pulling their characterization almost entirely from J.R.R. Tolkein’s Middle Earth and the long linage of fantasy worlds derived there from.

In Wild Arms 2 they have fairly plain green military-esque helmets and armor, and wield hatchets; a new development from the original Wild Arms, which stuck to a pretty standard D&D-esque Goblin design. This Wild Arms specific look gets reworked in Wild Arms 3 into what carries forward into the rest of the Wild Arms franchise as the iconic Gob.

Also, you’ll notice in the comparison images above, but I’m pretty certain the design here in Wild Arms 2 specifically, is meant as a throwback to Mobile Suit Gundam’s classic stock enemy goon suit, the MS-06 Zaku II; right down to the way the monster data card art is drawn with the shadow cast by the helmet and one eye obscured.

Okay, so I legit wrote out an entire thing covering mythological origin and dungeon ecology on this one that I then had to delete because I mistakenly assumed from the image I had saved that this was the Salamander/Salamandra enemy. It is not. This is the Tatzlewurm[sic].

The lore of the Tazelwurm describes very generally a kind of stubby lizard or serpent with poisonous breath or venom, oh and the head/face of a cat. None of that is present here, and in fact the special attack it does use is Flame Tongue, hence (along with the bright red coloration) my confusion with the Salamander. No, curiously enough the Tatzlewurm is actually in here because its alternative name is the Stollenwurm, meaning "tunnel worm." I dunno why it’s red or why it spits fire, other than to mess with me in particular. An insidious ruse, 20 years in the making...

Next up is the Dryad, a slightly less common sight in the tunnel dungeon and for good reason: I have no idea why it’s here...

Originally named for the Oak trees they were chiefly associated with, the term later spread to use for all such tree spirits. They are commonly portrayed as beautiful young women, and quite shy before humans.

None of this explains why these things are in an underground cave in which there are no signs of life, or even sunlight to nourish them. (There is a single room in this dungeon that appears to be part of an underground lake, but the textures are just rocks and water)

Out on the overworld we bump into a whole lot of these terrifying things... For whatever reason they’re HUGE, like people sized huge. They are Trilobites, a kind of prehistoric marine arthropod, but here in horrendous humanoid form. Their less nightmare inducing real world counterparts have been an integral asset to paleontological study due to their marine habitat and wide distribution of fossils helping to demarcate what modern day above water areas were once submerged.

As fossils they make sense as inhabitants of the barren overworld, but honestly I feel like they would have made more sense as the less common enemy of the Undertraffic, instead of the Dryad. It just would have felt appropriate for them to be living in the underground lake, but that’s honestly a very minor gripe. (I am still miffed about the Dryad in the cave though)

Also above ground we run into the Kelaeno, which is an interestingly bat-like take on the classic Harpy design, with a body almost like a cross between a bat and a manta ray, with a female humanoid torso emerging from the center. Their tactic in battle is to steal items with Pickpocket and then flee with them with Withdraw.

Of the broader race of mythological Harpies 4 have been named

Aello, the "storm swift"

Ocypete, the “swift wing"

Celaeno, the “dark one"

Podarge, the "fleet-foot"

All 4 actually appear in the Wild Arms franchise of some variation of winged enemy; Okypete and Aello are purple and blue recolors of the Kelaeno model seen here. Confusingly Kelaeno is not the darkest coloration of the three. Podarge is a different model, resembling an owl or Mothman, but we’ll get to those later...

The Gobs also appear here on the overworld, as well as an enemy called Dakleit, but I’ll get to them in just a bit, as they are one of the primary inhabitants of the next dungeon.

#wild arms 2 #jrpg #psx #harpy #trilobite #goblin #dnd #dryad #gundam #zaku

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thetygre · 5 years

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30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #24: Favorite ‘Monster’ Animal

This was kind of meant to be my list of favorite animals that are generally considered ‘creepy’ or ‘bizarre’. They might seem incredibly tame these day, but I still remember a time when things like pet snakes were ‘weird’, and I wanted to talk about them.

1. Giant Squid

My favorite animal. A real life sea monster. I never thought that I would actually see one in my lifetime, even with all our modern technology. After the first monster challenge, we got our first clear recording of a giant squid swimming in a Japanese bay. Just that footage told us so much about them; how they swim, what they look like moving, the shape of their tentacles and mantle. Being squid instead of octopi, it’s unlikely that the Architeuthis Dux is particularly intelligent. But even still, looking into that giant eye, I couldn’t help but wonder; how much is going on in there? Does it know who we are? When it swims in the darkness of the Abyssal Zone, in a place that has never seen sunlight, will it remember us? It’s an exciting time for squid chasers, that’s for sure.

2. Aye-Aye

The Aye Aye keeps making ‘weird animal’ lists, and I honestly don’t understand why. It’s adorable! It’s a kind of nocturnal lemur that specializes in eating tree grubs. There’s a lot of superstition surrounding the Aye Aye on Madagascar; it’s considered an unlucky animal, and its elongated middle finger is supposed to give bad luck. I have a fantasy book that starts on Not-Madagascar, and the lemur-folks’ corrupt priests are all Aye Ayes; the look so cute in their robes and wooden masks. The Aye Aye is just a scruffy, scraggly little tree goblin that wants to sleep all day and eat more bugs.

3. Anglerfish

A wise man, a man who I think tumblr knows relatively well, once sang a song about an anglerfish, and that song got me through some hard times. Anglerfish are absolutely fascinating animals; aside from their individual biological adaptations that are common across the whole family, each anglerfish is incredibly unique. They are an incredible example of evolutionary diversity, especially given that they live in such an unforgiving environment. It’s hard to pick a single favorite anglerfish; bearded, hairy, football, wolftrap, glass, etc. But I think there’s something to be said for the classic black sea devil; basic shape, killer name, and everything you could want out of an angler.

4. Spotted Hyena

I feel like hyenas are coming down from the ‘creepy/weird’ animal lists. The world is collectively realizing that hyenas are actually adorable, and do a lot more work than they’re given credit for. Even still, there’s something to admire in just how strange they are compared to other mammals. While they’re efficient predators in their own right, hyenas will always be known for being scavengers. And of course, there’s the folklore surrounding them; hyenas are witches’ familiars in West African superstition, and even medieval Europeans though of them as unnatural creatures in their bestiaries. But I’m glad that we can appreciated hyenas more fully now.

5. Vampire Bat

Our representative bat is still the standard bearer for the ‘spooky’ animals. It’s hard to tell how long bats have been associated with evil and darkness in certain cultures; even before vampires became tied to them, they were thought of as ‘night creatures’, and the ancient Mayans even had the chthonic bat god Camazotz. But the contrast is just so broad when you actually look at the vampire bat. For starts, they’re tiny, like all members of the microchiroptera family; the average vampire bat can fit in the palm of your hand. They live in groups, and they actually share the blood they drink with their young. Even still, the vampire bat has enough features to keep it weird; its dietary habits are still unusual for bats, it spends an inordinate amount of time walking on the ground compared to other chiroptera, and it has to be said, it still has a face like a feral goblin.

6. Ball Python

We now enter the ‘used in movies to represent more dangerous species but actually a cinnamon roll’ portion of the list. Ball pythons are definitely a favorite when it’s time to put a snake on camera; they can grow pretty big, and they look exotic enough to be mysterious. But like hyenas, I feel like enough people know at this point that your average ball python is about as threatening as a pair of socks. It’s always hilarious to me to see a ‘cunning’ or ‘dangerous’ snake get referenced and then the crew pulls out a python. What’s it gonna’ do; sleep at the hero to death? Out in the wild you still get the odd case of a constrictor getting the drop on someone, which is barely enough to edge pythons on the ‘man’s predators’ list, but even those cases are freakishly rare. In the end, pythons are your legless, furless alternative to the cat; sleepy, hungry, and in constant need of body heat.

7. Red Knee Tarantula

Every movie’s favorite spider is the red knee tarantula. Their big, they look dangerous, and they’re striking color scheme makes them stand out. Of course, tarantulas are one of the most harmless family of spiders to humans; they’re a terror to anything smaller than your finger, but generally safe for people. Their venom isn’t enough to kill or even seriously injure a person, though their giant mandibles still give a nasty pinch. Honestly, a person is probably more at risk from the stinging hairs tarantulas release as a defense mechanism than their bite. While all tarantulas are fuzzy and loveable, I’m still fondest of the Mexican red knee just for its Halloween color scheme.

8. Emperor Scorpion

Naturally, as a Scorpio, I feel some predisposition to scorpions. I always liked them a little bit more than spiders, and still think that they’re the cooler of the two arachnids. The scorpion is one of nature’s near-perfect animals, capable of surviving in the harshest of environments. They were earth’s first terrestrial predators, the original monsters, and hunted our ancestors in the prehistoric oceans. These days, you can buy them at your mall pet store for a pretty reasonable price and feed them crickets. The emperor scorpion is still my favorite species because of how big and bulky it is. Its venom is relatively harmless because its claws have evolved to tear through the armor of its prey, though to us it’s just a nasty pinch. The whole goth-lobster package is offset by a pair of cute beady eyes looking up at you, begging you to have mercy on your species’ old nemesis and not stomp on it so it can scuttle away.

9. Black Vulture

It was a tough call in the bird department, but I feel like corvids and owls have gotten enough love now that we can start focusing on vultures. Vultures have an uphill battle, because stupid, ignorant people can’t appreciate how cool having anti-bacterial acid urine really is. Vultures are synonymous with barren places, true animals of the waste. They’re scavengers down to a ‘t’, and the go-to example for why scavengers are important to any ecosystem. While the Egyptian vulture is the most ‘vulturish’ and the bearded vulture the most MAJESTIC, my personal favorite is the good old black vulture. Black vultures have been in some weird and interesting places in my life, to the point that I’m starting to think of them as some kind of omen. An omen that says, “Oh boy, I get to see a vulture today!”

10. Xoloitzcuntli Dog

So the xolo dog takes bottom place by virtue of being a dog, and therefore a spiritually pure being inhabiting an earthly vessel to guide mankind towards goodness. These days, xolos are pretty popular, but I remember a time when Americans generally didn’t know about them by and large. When they first showed up in American media, they were labeled as ‘the world’s ugliest dog’, and I remember a few people wondering if they had mange or were pictures of chupacabras. With social media, everybody now knows that xolos are adorable, if still kind of comparatively weird looking, canine friends.

#30 Day Monster Challenge 2 #30 Day Monster Challenge #animals #oh lord i'm so far behind

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reubscubes · 7 years

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Horizon Zero Dawn: ReubsCubes Review

Mankind has a few standout achievements. The Wheel, Fire, Internet, cheesecake. Sadly however, the list does not include robot dinosaurs. And until such time as the scientists of the world rectify this grievous error, videogames will have to make it up to us. I can only assume that was the opening of the design document for Horizon Zero Dawn, because this the best thing since Cheesecake.

The following contains spoilers for Horizon Zero Dawn. I will attempt to keep overall plot points and character moments vague, but if you’ve not played the game then proceed at your own risk.

Tumblr ReubsCubes Twitter ReubsCubes

I love dinosaurs. Love is a strong word and it is exactly the one I want to use. I was obsessed with them as a child, dragged my long suffering parents to the Museum of Natural History at every opportunity and Jurassic Park remains one of my favourite movies. As a consequence I am incapable of being objective about anything involving dinosaurs, large aquatic or avian reptiles and almost all megafauna in general.

But my predilections for animatronic extinct reptiles aside, HZD is already a contender for my favourite game of this year. Please note that I haven’t played Neir Automata, Resident Evil 7, Persona 5, Mass Effect Andromeda, Breath of the Wild, Torment: Tides of Numenera or any other fantastic games that came out in 2017.

Horizon (and i’m choosing to shorten the name because the whole thing is a really awful mouthful) tells the story of Aloy, a young woman born under mysterious circumstances into a primitive world that humans share with gigantic highly advanced machines, in a world that is clearly our own, an unknown time after some kind of apocalypse. As Aloy attempts to understand more about her own origins she is drawn into conflict with a evil cult known as The Eclipse and must battle for the fate of the world. Along the way she discovers more about the long gone old ones and the secrets of her origin.

Nothing particularly out of the ordinary there, naive but intelligent hayseed sets out to find their place in the world and finds evil deathcult. Friends are made, difficulties overcome and we all learn a few precious lessons about friendship, family and how entitled tech sector dickheads will be the downfall of us all.

The world itself is more interesting than either the bog standard medieval fantasy or nuke blasted post apocalypse might be. Rather than the immediate aftermath of the calamity, where people are trying to rebuild their societies and loves with the shattered remains of the world they’ve lost, the time and distance between the old world and the societies that have followed after are much more pronounced. There’s a lot of sun and nature worship and even the most basic and obvious facts about our world have been lost in time. Case in point, the scholar in the city of Meridian who’s convinced coffee cups were ceremonious vessels used in holy rituals, as opposed to cheap tat mass produced to drink instant coffee from. The issue of instant coffee itself never comes up as presumably nescafe did not survive the downfall of humanity.

Women are at the forefront in Horizon Zero dawn. Aloy’s belongs, ostensibly, to a tribe called the Nora. They have a tribal society where led by a group of venerable women called the Matriarchs and worship a goddess they call the All-Mother. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of proscribed gender roles for men and women, they all share in hunting and fighting and childrearing. Members of the tribe are of various different ethnic backgrounds, although again in a post apocalypse racial origin become a little vague. It’s a pretty equal society for all genders and races and a society that respects and elevates women is pretty rare, especially in the overly macho world of videogames. Diversity is dealt with pretty well, gay and trans characters are given plot lines and backstories that don’t hide their identities, but also don’t get caught up pointing out how inclusive they’re being. The interaction with the character of Jeneva, the warden of Sunstone Rock prison, is a particular standout. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbow in the valley of the Nora.

The Nora are a fair and equal society true but they’re also intensely superstitious and insular. They see themselves as one of the chosen people and anyone who leaves their blessed homelands is not allowed to return. Aloy was raised s one of the outcast, the members of the tribe exiles for various crimes. The Nora only ever treat her with disdain or fear and as a result she has even less respect for their customs and traditions as you might expect. Aloy cares about people and wants to do what she can to help them but has absolutely no patience for their restrictive belief systems.

The characters are noble but flawed in all too believable ways. This kind of excellent writing defines the world of horizon. The world is a mix of ancient cultures mixed with hyper advanced technology. The world is full of machines, technology so far beyond the imagination of the people in the world around it regard it as the magic of the gods. Which bring me to the most impressive part of Horizon’s incredibly detailed and designed world. The machines.

Holy mechanical t-rex they’re amazing! Most open worlds populate themselves with flora and fauna to hunt and be hunted by. Whether it’s the more grounded animals from the Far Cry series or the creatures of european myth that haunt the fields and forests of the Witcher, worlds are defined in a very significant way by the creatures that roam them. And the machines of of Horizon are spectacular, in design and execution. Based at least partly on real life animals mixed with the stylized technology, they’re the apex predators of Aloy’s world. Many of the designs, like the Behemoths and Watchers, recall prehistoric animals, but even the more recognisable critters like Grazers and Lancehorns straddle the line between beautiful and practical.

If the machines themselves are spectacular then the places they’re built are even moreso. The cauldrons are secret caves deep within mountains at the edges of the world where the machines are built. Once it has been located and the outer perimeter breached, either by solving a puzzle or overcoming the powerful machines guarding the gates, then Aloy can descend into a puzzle dungeon that would not seem out of place in Legend of Zelda. These environments are absolutely beautiful and more than a little eerie. And once you realise what they are and how they work you’ll want to run through them all again.

Where Horizon differentiates itself from a lot of other games in the genre is how it expects you to hunt its wildlife. You don’t have the firepower or defense to go in guns blazing so instead you have to use stealth and manipulate the environment to bring down the beasts. Aloy is armed with only a bow and arrow and a few gadgets like trip wires to take down sentient robots capable of crushing her underfoot. You can’t go up against a herd of Tramplers and expect to melee them to death. Much more likely they’ll trample you. Hence the name.

Instead you have to pick your moment, analyse the weaknesses of each type of machine, (a process which becomes easier and more natural as the game progresses) choose the type of ammo then set your traps. Then, when halfway through your perfectly constructed ambush a lone Ravager suddenly dives into the melee and ruins your painstaking set up you have to improvise feverishly to try to salvage the situation or at the very least not die. There are shades of Witcher and Monster Hunter to the combat, even some Shadow of the Colossus. Like the titular Colosi, the machines feel like part of the world, and feeling the more majestic creatures is almost tragic.

Once the beasts have been felled they can be scavenged for parts, although this whole system does feel underdeveloped. There two types of collectables that you can harvest from enemies but most of them only really need to be used once or twice. You can sell them for money but that leads to you having far more than you can possibly spend. After a little while it becomes a little tedious to hunt machines for its own sake. Although the combat is reminiscent of monster hunter it has a very long way to go before it matches that franchise as far as rewarding players goes.

That a slightly unfulfilling crafting system is the worst thing horizon has going for it is indicative of how excellent a game it is. The world manages to be familiar and brand new all at once, and the same applies to the mechanics of its open world. Guerilla games have created something very special in horizon and I hope that we’ve got lots more of it to look forward to.

Thanks for reading!

#horizon zero dawn #horizonzerodawn #hzd #hzd spoilers #guerrilla games #guerillagames #playstation #video games #videogames #review

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kristablogs · 4 years

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Five surprising ways people have used (and are still using) bones

Some people use bones as macabre decor, but they're good for so much more. (Artem Maltsev via Unsplash/)

For February, we’re focusing on the body parts that shape us, oxygenate us, and power us as we take long walks on the beach. Bony bonafide bones. These skeletal building blocks inspire curiosity and spark fear in different folks—we hope our stories, covering everything from surgeries and supplements to good old-fashioned boning, will only do the first. Once you’ve thoroughly blasted your mind with bone facts, check out our previous themed months: muscle and fat.

Imagine sitting down to a meal of ground-up bone, served on a plate made of burned bones, while two musicians—one rattling two sawed-off ribs together and the other ominously shaking part of a horse’s skull—provide grim ambience in the dim candlelight. Off in the corner, an oracle shoves some bones into a fire in an effort to predict whether the crops you just fertilized with shattered bones will yield a hearty harvest.

It might feel like you’re in the opening scene of the latest binge-worthy adaptation of a popular fantasy series, but this is real life. Or, at least, it would be if you mashed everything you’re about to read into one time period.

Humans have found unique uses for skeletal remains since prehistoric times. You may be familiar with bone arrowheads, fish hooks, and jewelry, but you may be surprised to learn how bones have found their way into the everyday lives of both ancient and modern people. Let’s journey beyond the grave.

Musical instruments

There are plenty of musical instruments that look like bones or include bones as part of their design. For example, artist Bruce Mahalski and guitar maker David Gilberd teamed up to build a bone guitar that features about 35 skulls. Super metal, yes, but not quite bony enough. It’s still, at its heart, a guitar.

On display at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, this 1856 portrait of "The Bone Player" shows how a skilled musician might hold the instrument. (William Sidney Mount/)

For instruments straight-up made out of bone, two stand out: the aptly named “bones” and the jawbone. Even if you only listen to the latest pop songs, it’s possible you’ve heard the former without realizing it. In 1949, Freeman Davis, known as “Brother Bones,” recorded a version of the Jazz Age standard “Sweet Georgia Brown,” which found widespread fame after the Harlem Globetrotters picked it up as their theme song three years later.

You’re more likely to find them made out of wood today, but in their most basic form, bones are a pair of animal rib bones—usually sheep or cow— cut down to between 5 and 7 inches long. Players hold them between their fingers, curved sides facing each other, and knock them together with deft flicks of their wrists. Like skilled tap dancers, experts can create a vast range of percussive sounds.

The bones have their roots in traditional Irish and Scottish music, and immigrants from those countries brought them to America, where they found a home in bluegrass and other folk genres. They’re similar to other clacking percussion instruments like the spoons, the Chinese paiban, and castanets.

The jawbone, meanwhile, is originally an African instrument that made its way to the Americas as a result of the slave trade. It’s usually the jawbone of a horse or another equine (like a donkey or zebra), that’s been stripped of all flesh and dried.

Once it’s dry, the teeth become so loose they rattle around in their sockets. But it’s more than a simple rattle—players can create other sounds by striking the jawbone with a stick or rubbing the wood across its teeth.

It’s a little more niche, but you may have also heard the sound of a jawbone without realizing it—the vibraslap, patented in 1969 by Martin B. Cohen, was designed to sound exactly like it. Cohen said in his patent application that he’d found it hard to replace actual jawbones when they break.

Fortune telling

The original users of these bones hoped they'd foretell the future. (Deborah Harding, Carnegie Museum of Natural History/)

Yeah, you’ve heard of necromancy, and probably pyromancy. Now, get ready for scapulimancy and plastromancy. Relatives of pyromancy, these two divination practices involve writing questions on bones (usually large animal shoulder bones or turtle plastrons), heating them up until they crack, and then interpreting the cracks.

How they were heated is unclear and likely varied. Some sources simply mention fire, while others describe diviners inserting hot metal rods into holes drilled in the bones.

These practices weren’t restricted to any particular region, either, and ancient people worldwide had their own versions. Inhabitants of Europe, western Asia, and North Africa simply inspected the natural condition of the bone after all flesh was scraped away, but those who lived in North America and other parts of Asia used fire, according to David N. Keightley, a former professor of Chinese history at the University of California, Berkeley.

Perhaps the most well-preserved oracle bones come from China, most of which date back to the Shang dynasty (1600-1046 BCE). About 20,000 pieces (mostly ox scapulae and turtle plastrons) were dug up between 1928 and 1937 during official excavations around the dynasty’s capital city of Yinxu, about 300 miles southwest of modern-day Beijing. Most turned out to be predictions performed for the royal family. This discovery, among others, helped Chinese archaeologist Li Ji prove that the Shang dynasty actually existed.

The Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh has a large collection of these bones in storage for research purposes. Amy Covell-Murthy, who manages the museum’s archaeology collection, said the inscriptions on their bones ask questions like whether or not someone will have a baby, which crops to plant in a field, or how a war will turn out. She also said some are fakes, but that they still hold value because they’re at least 100 years old themselves.

Bone china

Unlike true porcelain, which contains only minerals, the ceramic material known as bone china includes bone ash. It originated in England in the 1700s and for a long time, most, if not all, bone china was made there.

A few potters and companies experimented with bone ash as they sought to bulk up their soft-paste porcelain to rival the stronger hard-paste ceramics made in China, but Josiah Spode I is generally understood to have been the one who standardized bone china production. When he died, his son, Josiah Spode II, took over and continued to improve on his father’s work.

Today, bone china is made across the globe by companies such as Lenox, which has made numerous pieces for presidents dating back to 1918, and the Spode family’s eponymous business, Spode.

Fertilizer

Plants love to eat bones. Hardcore. (CDC via Unsplash/)

All living things need phosphorus, and bones have a lot of it. This is why bone meal, as ground-up bones are called, has found its calling as plant fertilizer. Without phosphorus, plants can’t function, can’t grow, and can’t photosynthesize, says Dennis Stevenson, vice president for science at the New York Botanical Garden. Bone meal is also high in calcium, which plants need for their cell walls.

But with its benefits come some potential problems. Health experts say some bone meal can be high in lead, and possibly also mercury. It’s also got a bit of a dark history in the U.S., dating back to the near-total destruction of the American bison.

The hunting of these thousand-pound animals was driven by their highly prized skins, but also by the U.S. government, which promoted hunting in an effort to starve Native Americans and force them onto reservations. Hunters would kill and skin bison, but often left the carcasses littering the Great Plains. As settlers moved west, they began picking them up and selling them to use as fertilizer.

Gelatin and glue

The revelation that gelatin is made out of animal parts is a common one. But the simple fact that everyone seems to have this somewhat traumatic revelation at some point in their lives made it seem relevant for this list. If you already know this, great—maybe you’ll learn something new here anyway. And if you didn’t, now you do, and you can reveal it to others in your life.

Most gelatin is made from the byproducts of the meat and leather industries, usually bones and skin. In its purest form, it’s 98 to 99 percent protein and is nearly tasteless and odorless. Its use dates back to the medieval era, and because it was hard to make, it was originally just for rich families.

Today, it’s still pretty complicated to make, but industry has taken much of the hands-on labor out of it. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the 20-week process for making gelatin out of cattle bones starts like this: The bones are crushed and cooked at 180 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit before being spun in a centrifuge, dried at 160 to 270 degrees, degreased, and treated for five to seven days with a weak hydrochloric acid solution.

Then, the ground-up bones are washed several times with water and treated with a lime slurry (not the tasty tropical kind) for one to two months in an effort to remove everything that’s not collagen. After that, the almost-gelatin is washed again, made more acidic, and may be filtered. Finally, its pH is made more neutral (between 5 and 7), it’s sterilized at 280 to 290 degrees for several seconds, cooled, and dried with hot air for 1 to 3 hours.

This stuff ends up in obvious foods like gummies, but can also be used in a wide variety of ways to stabilize, thicken, and add texture to the things we eat. It’s also used to make modern film.

Gelatin and animal glue are closely related, though use of the latter has largely disappeared. At least as late as the early 2000s, gelatin-based glues were used to stick those “organic” stickers on fruits and vegetables, the USDA says.

Animal glue has a long history, and in 2014 researchers found that it was used to hold together the painted layers of Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang’s massive terracotta army. It was used worldwide until the early 1900s, but was essentially eliminated by the invention of synthetic adhesives.

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scootoaster · 4 years

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Five surprising ways people have used (and are still using) bones

Some people use bones as macabre decor, but they're good for so much more. (Artem Maltsev via Unsplash/)

Musical instruments

On display at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, this 1856 portrait of "The Bone Player" shows how a skilled musician might hold the instrument. (William Sidney Mount/)

Fortune telling

The original users of these bones hoped they'd foretell the future. (Deborah Harding, Carnegie Museum of Natural History/)

How they were heated is unclear and likely varied. Some sources simply mention fire, while others describe diviners inserting hot metal rods into holes drilled in the bones.

Bone china

Today, bone china is made across the globe by companies such as Lenox, which has made numerous pieces for presidents dating back to 1918, and the Spode family’s eponymous business, Spode.

Fertilizer

Plants love to eat bones. Hardcore. (CDC via Unsplash/)

Gelatin and glue

This stuff ends up in obvious foods like gummies, but can also be used in a wide variety of ways to stabilize, thicken, and add texture to the things we eat. It’s also used to make modern film.

0 notes

glittership · 5 years

Text

Episode #76 — "Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons" by Jennifer Lee Rossman

Direct download here.

And here’s the RSS feed: http://glittership.podbean.com/feed/

Episode 76 is part of the Autumn 2018 issue!

Support GlitterShip by picking up your copy here: http://www.glittership.com/buy/

Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons

By Jennifer Lee Rossman

They weren’t real, but they still took my breath away.

The model dinosaurs and other prehistoric beasties lived on and swam in the waters around three islands in Hyde Park. Enormous things, so big that I’d heard their designer had hosted a dinner party inside one, and so lifelike! If I stared long enough, I was sure I’d see one blink.

I turned to Samira and found her twirling her parasol, an act purposely designed to bely the rage burning in her eyes. She would never let it show, her pleasant smile practically painted on, but I’d spent enough time with her to recognize that fury boiling just beneath the surface.

Befuddled, I looked back at the dinosaurs, this time flipping down my telescopic goggles. The craftsmanship was immaculate, the color consistent all along the plesiosaur’s corkscrew neck, and the pudgy, horned iguanodons looked structurally sound, what with their bellies dragging on the ground.

Dinosaurs were Samira’s everything; how could seeing them practically coming to life not give her joy?

[Full story after the cut.]

Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip episode 76 for June 24, 2019. This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to be sharing this story with you. Today we have a GlitterShip original, which is available in the Autumn 2018 issue that you can pick up at GlitterShip.com/buy, on Gumroad at gum.co/gship08, or on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and other ebook retailers.

If you’ve been waiting to pick up your copy of the Tiptree Award Honor Listed book, GlitterShip Year Two, there’s a great deal going on for Pride over at StoryBundle. GlitterShip Year Two is part of a Pride month LGBTQ fantasy fiction bundle. StoryBundle is a pay-what-you-want bundle site. For $5 or more, you can get four great books, and for $15 or more, you’ll get an additional five books, including GlitterShip Year Two, and a story game. That comes to as little as $1.50 per book or game. The StoryBundle also offers an option to give 10% of your purchase amount to charity. The charity for this bundle is Rainbow Railroad, a charity that helps queer folks get to a safe place if their country is no longer safe for them.

This is a great deal, so if you want to take advantage of it, go to Storybundle.com/pride soon! The deal only runs through June 27th, depending on your time zone.

Today’s story is “Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons” by Jennfer Lee Rossman, but first our poem, “Shortcake” by Jade Homa.

Jade Homa is an intersectional feminist, sapphic poet, lgbtq sensitivity reader, member of The Rainbow Alliance, and editor-in-chief of Blue Literary Magazine. Her poetry has been published in over 7 literary magazines, including BlazeVOX, A Tired Heroine, The Ocotillo Review, and Sinister Wisdom (in print). Jade’s work will be featured in an exhibit via Pen and Brush, a New York City based non profit that showcases emerging female artists, later this year, along with being featured in a special edition of Rattle which highlights dynamic Instagram poets. In her free time, Jade loves petting dogs, eating pasta, and daydreaming about girls.

Shortcake by Jade Homa

you called me your strawberry girl / and I wondered if it was / the wolf inside my jaw / or the red stained across my cheeks / or the way I said fuck / or that time I yanked your / hair / or every moment / you swallowed me whole

And now “Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons” by Jennifer Lee Rossman, read by April Grant.

Jennifer Lee Rossman is that autistic nerd who complains about inaccurate depictions of dinosaurs. Along with Jaylee James, she is the co-editor of Love & Bubbles, a queer anthology of underwater romance. Her debut novel, Jack Jetstark’s Intergalactic Freakshow, was published by World Weaver Press in 2018. She tweets about dinosaurs @JenLRossman

April Grant lives in the greater Boston area. Her backstory includes time as a sidewalk musician, real estate agent, public historian, dishwasher, and librarian. Among her hobbies are biking and singing.

Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons

By Jennifer Lee Rossman

They weren’t real, but they still took my breath away.

Dinosaurs were Samira’s everything; how could seeing them practically coming to life not give her joy?

“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly, so as not to disturb the crowds around us. Well, any more than our mere presence disturbed them by default.

(It wasn’t every day they saw a girl in a mechanical chair and her butch Indian crush who wore trousers with her best jewelry, and they did not particularly care for us. We didn’t particularly care what they thought, which really didn’t engender ourselves to them, but luckily polite society frowned on yelling at people for being gay, disabled, and/or nonwhite, so hooray for us.)

“It’s wrong.”

“What is?”

She gestured emphatically at the islands, growing visibly distressed. “It! Them! Everything! Everything is wrong!”

If Samira’s frustration had a pressure valve, the needle would have been edging toward the red. She needed to get out of the situation before she burst a pipe.

I knew better than to take her hand, as she didn’t always appreciate physical touch the way I did, so I gently tugged at the corner of her vest as I engaged my chair. The miniature steam engine behind me activated the pistons that turned my chrome wheels, and Samira held onto my velvet-padded armrest as we left the main viewing area and took refuge by one of the fountains in the Crystal Palace.

She sat on the marble edge, letting a hand trail in the shimmery water until she felt calm enough to speak.

“They did it all wrong, Tilly. They didn’t take any of my advice.” She rummaged through her many pockets, finally producing a scrap of paper with a dinosaur sketched on it. “This is what iguanodon looked like.”

Her drawing showed an entirely different creature than the park’s statue. While theirs looked sluggish and fat, kind of like a doofy dragon, Samira’s interpretation was nimble and intelligent, standing on four legs with a solid but agile tail held horizontally behind it. And its nose horn was completely absent, though it did have a large thumb spike, giving it the impression of perpetually congratulating someone on a job well done.

It certainly looked like a more realistic representation of a living creature, but these things lived, what, millions of years ago? Even someone as brilliant as Samira couldn’t possibly have known what they were really like.

But I couldn’t tell her that. Girlfriends are supposed to be supportive, and I needed to do everything I could to gain prospective girlfriend points before I asked her out.

“What evidence did you give them for your hypothesis?” I asked instead. “All we really have are fossils, right?”

Her face lit up at the invitation to delve into her favorite subject. “Right, and we don’t even have full skeletons yet of most of them. But we have limbs. Joints. And if we compare them to skeletons of things that exist now, they don’t resemble big, fat lizards that could hardly move around. That makes no biological sense, because predators could just waltz up and eat them. They had to be faster, more agile. They wouldn’t have survived otherwise.”

“So why wouldn’t they have listened to you?” I asked, perplexed.

“Because they don’t understand evolution,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Or they don’t want to be shown up by a girl. A lesbian girl with nonconforming hair and wardrobe who dares to be from a country they pretend to own.” She crossed her arms and stared at her boots. “Or both. But there’s no excuse for the plesiosaurs. No creature’s neck can bend like that.”

I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to respond to that. Samira never complained about something just to commiserate; she expected answers, a solution. But I couldn’t very well make them redesign the statues, no matter how happy that would have made her.

So we just sat together quietly by the fountain, fuming at the ignorant men in charge of the park, and I schemed for a way to fix things for the girl that made my eyes light up the way dinosaurs lit hers.

Every problem had a solution, if you tinkered hard enough.

After my accident, I took a steam engine and wheels from a horseless wagon and stuck them on a chair. My mum hadn’t been amused to lose part of her dinette set, but it got me around town until I could build a proper wheelchair. (Around the flat parts of town, anyway. My latest blueprints involved extending legs that could climb stairs.)

And when Londoners complained about the airship mooring towers were ruining the skyline, who figured out a way to make them retractable? That would be me. The airship commissioner hadn’t responded to my proposal yet, but it totally worked in small scale on my dollhouse.

It was just a matter of finding the solution to Samira’s dinosaur problem.

I spent all night in my workshop, referring to her sketches and comparing them to promotional drawings of the park’s beasts. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider breaking in and altering the statues somehow, but the sheer amount that they had gotten wrong precluded that as a possibility. This wasn’t a mere paintjob or moving an iguanodon horn; they needed a complete overhaul.

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

The day they announced that they were building realistic, life sized dinosaurs in Crystal Park was the day I fell for Samira.

I’d always thought she was pretty—tall, brilliant smile, didn’t conform to society’s expectations for women—but the pure joy radiating from her… It was like she’d turned on a giant electromagnet inside her, and the clockwork the doctors had installed to keep my heart beating was powerless against her magnetic field.

So I listened to her gush about the park, about how the statues would make everyone else see the amazing lost world she saw when she looked at a fossil. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but I understood her passion.

The grand opening was supposed to be the day I finally asked her out, but now it would have to be when I presented her with my grand gesture of grandness…

Whatever it was.

I woke abruptly to the chimes of my upcycled church organ doorbell and found a sprocket embedded in my face.

Groaning, I pushed myself off my worktable and into a sitting position. “Did you let me sleep out here all night?” I said into the mouthpiece of the two-way vibration communicator prototype that fed through the wall and into the kitchen.

A moment later, my mum picked up her end. “‘Mum,'” she said, imitating my voice, “‘I’m a professional tinkerer and nearly an adult. I can’t be having a bedtime!'”

“Point taken. Have I missed breakfast?”

The door in the wall opened to reveal a plate of pancakes.

“Thanks!” I tore a bite out of one as I wheeled over to the door. My crooked spine ached from sitting up all night.

Activating the pneumatic door opener, I found George about to ring the bell again.

George, my former boyfriend and current best friend. Chubby, handsome, super gay. We’d tried the whole hetero thing for two whole days before we realized it wasn’t for us, then pretended for another six months to keep his father from trying to matchmake him with one of the Clearwater sisters.

I wouldn’t have minded being with a man, necessarily, but ladies really sent my heart a-ticking, so it was no great loss when George told me he was a horticultural lad.

(You know, a pansy. A daisy. A… erm. Bougainvillea? I must confess, flowers didn’t excite me unless they were made of scrap metal.)

George raised an eyebrow. “I take it the declaration of love went well, then?” When I only frowned in confusion, he pointed to my face. “The sprocket-shaped dent in your cheek would suggest you spent the night with a woman.”

“Samira isn’t an automaton, George.”

“No, but she’s got the…” He mimed having a large chest. “And the, um… Scaffolding.”

“Do you think women’s undergarments are made of clockwork?” I asked, amused. I mean, mine were, but that was just so I could tighten the laces behind my back without assistance when I wore a corset.

Which wasn’t often. My favorite dresses were the color of grease stains and had a lot of pockets, so it should come as no surprise that I didn’t go anywhere fancy on a regular basis.

George blushed. “So… it did not go well, then?”

He came in and tinkered with me over pancakes while I told him about my predicament, making sympathetic noises at the appropriate times.

When I was done with my story, he sat quietly for a moment, thinking while he adjusted the spring mechanism in an old cuckoo clock. “And you can’t just go over with flowers and say, ‘Hey, gorgeous, wanna gay together?’ because…?”

“Have you met me? I don’t do romance. I make things for romantic people.” I gestured to the wind-up music boxes, mechanical roses that opened to reveal a love note, and clockwork pendants scattered about my workshop. All commissions from people who were better at love than I was.

“Then pretend you’re a clueless client like Reverend Paul. Remember what you did for him?”

The reverend had come in wanting to woo Widow Trefauny but didn’t know a thing about her except that she liked dogs and made his heart smile. I thought my solution was ingenious.

“I built a steam-powered puppy.”

George held his hands out, prompting. “So…”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place, like the last cog in a clock mechanism that makes everything tick.

“I need to build a steam-powered dinosaur for Samira.”

Dinosaurs, as it turned out, were huge. I mean, they looked big on the islands, sure, but that was so far away that I only truly got a sense of scale when I started measuring in my workshop.

Samira’s notes put iguanodon, my dino of choice, at around ten meters in length. Since a measuring tape required more free hands than I had, I tied a string around one of the spokes of my chair’s wheels, which had a one-point-eight meter circumference, and measured five and a half revolutions…

Which took me out of my cramped shop and into the street, forcing horses and their mechanical counterparts to divert around me.

“Don’t suppose it would do to detour traffic for a couple weeks, eh?” I asked a tophatted hansom cabbie, who had stopped his horseless machine to watch me in amusement.

“Reckon not, Miss Tilly,” he said with a laugh, stepping down from his perch at the front of the carriage. He pulled a lever, and the cab door opened with a hiss to reveal a pile of gleaming metal parts.

“Ooh!” I clapped my hands. “Are those for me?”

He nodded and began unloading them. My iguanodon was going to be much taller than me, and even though George had promised his assistance, I needed to make extendy arms to hold the heavy parts. “Is there somewhere else you could build him?”

I supposed this wouldn’t exactly be stealthy. I could stop Samira from going in my shop, but it would have been substantially more difficult to stop her from going down an entire street.

But where?

I got my answer a few days later, when the twice weekly zeppelin to Devon lifted off without Samira on board. She was usually the first in line, going not for the luxury holiday destinations that drew in an upper-class clientele, but for the fossils.

The coast of Devon was absolutely lousy with fossils. The concept of extinction had been proven there, Mary Anning herself found her first ichthyosaur there, and all the best scientists fought for the right to have their automata scan the coast with ground-penetrating radar.

Samira’s life revolved around trips to Devon and the buckets of new specimens she brought home every week.

“Why aren’t you on that zeppelin?” I asked as we sat in her room, sorting her fossilized ammonites. She’d originally had the little spiral-shelled mollusks organized by size, but now thought it more logical to sort by age. Me, I thought size was a fine method, but I didn’t know a thing about fossils and was happy to do it however she wanted.

She didn’t answer me, just kind of shrugged and ran her thumb over the spiral impression in the rock.

“Is it because you’re upset that they didn’t take your advice on the dinosaurs?” I knew it was, but I had to hear her say it.

“I don’t see the point of it if no one will care about what I find.” She sounded so utterly despondent. Joyless. The one thing that gave her life purpose had been taken away by careless men.

They probably only cared about whether the park was profitable, not if it was accurate.

I couldn’t make them change their statues, and I couldn’t make the public care that they were wrong. But I had to fix it for my best girl, because there was nothing sadder than seeing her like that.

“Can I hold your hand for a second?” I asked quietly. She gave the slightest of nods and I took her hand gently in mine, my clockwork heart ticking at double speed. “You’ve got a gift, Samira. Scientists have to study these bones for months just to make bad guesses about the animals they came from, but you can look at an ankle joint and figure that it was a quadruped or a biped, if it ate meat or plants, and what color its skin was.”

She gave me a look.

“Okay, I’m exaggerating, but only a little. I don’t agree with the way they’re portrayed, but this world is going to love dinosaurs because of the ones at Crystal Palace. People are going to dig for fossils even more, and they’re going to need someone amazing like you to teach them about the new things they unearth.” I tried to refrain from intertwining our fingers; just touching was a big enough step. “I need you to promise me something.”

Samira pulled away, and I had to remind myself that this didn’t necessarily mean anything more than her just being done holding hands. “What is it?”

“A week from today, be on the zeppelin to the coast.” The coast, with its ample space and no chance of Samira discovering my project before it was ready.

She made a face. “I don’t know.”

“Please?” I begged. “For me?”

After a long moment’s consideration, she nodded. “For you.”

George and I caught the midweek zeppelin. Lucky for us, most tourists went down for the weekend, so all of our metal parts didn’t weigh us down too much. We did share the cabin with a few fancy ladies, who stared in wordless shock at Iggy’s scrapmetal skull sitting on the chair beside us.

I’d named him Iggy. His head was almost a meter long. Mostly bronze and copper, but I’d done a few tin accents around the eyes to really make ’em pop.

When we arrived at the shore, we had to fight a couple paleontologists for space on the rocky coastline. Not physically fight, fun as that might have been. Once they realized we weren’t trying to steal their dig sites, they happily moved their little chugging machines to give us a flat stretch of beach.

Which just left us with three days to assemble Iggy, whose hundreds of parts I had not thought to label beforehand.

Another thing I neglected to do: inform George of the scope of this project.

“Matilda, I adore you and will always help you with anything you need,” he said, dragging a tail segment across the rocks with a horrific scraping. “But for future reference, the next time you invite me to Devon to build a life-sized steam-powered iguanodon? You might mention how abysmally enormous iguanodon were.”

“That sounds like a you problem,” I teased, my voice echoing metallically as I welded the neck together from the inside. I’d actually gotten out of my chair and lay down in the metal shell, figuring it would be easier to attach all the pneumatics and hydraulics that way.

I should have brought a pillow.

At night, because we were too poor to afford one of the fancy hotels in town, we slept on the beach beneath a blanket of stars, Iggy’s half-finished shape silhouetted against the sky.

“Samira’s a fancy lady,” I said to George as we lay in the sand. “She doesn’t wear them, but she has expensive dresses. All lacy and no stains. Her family has a lot of money. Could she ever really want to be with someone like me?”

He rolled over to face me. “What do you mean, someone like you?”

“Poor mechanic who can’t go up stairs, whose heart is being kept alive with the insides of a pocket watch that could stop at any time.”

I didn’t try to think about it a lot, but the fact was that the doctors had never done an operation like mine before. It ticked all right for now, but no one knew if my body would keep it wound or if I would just… stop one day.

The fear tried to stop me from doing things, tried to take away what little life I might have had left, but I couldn’t let it. I had to grab on as hard as I could and never let go. In an ideal world, Samira would be part of that.

But the world wasn’t ideal. Far from it.

Was I too much to put up with? Would she rather date someone who didn’t have to take the long way around because the back door didn’t have steps? Someone who could give her jewels and… fine cheeses and pet monkeys and whatever else rich people gave their girlfriends?

Someone she knew would be around to grow old with her?

Maybe that’s why I’d put off asking her to be my gal, because even though we got along better than the Queen’s guards and ridiculous hats, even though we both fancied ladies and wanted to marry one someday, I couldn’t stand to know she didn’t see me that way. I cherished her as a friend and didn’t see romance as being somehow more than friendship, but she smelled like cookies and I just really wanted to be in love with her.

“Hey,” George said softly, pulling me closer to him. “She loves you. You realize that, don’t you?”

“I guess,” I said into his shoulder. He smelled like grease. A nice, comforting smell, but too much like my own. At the end of the day, I wanted to curl up with someone like Samira.

“You guess. You’ve held her hand, Tilly. She’s made eye contact with you. That’s big for her. You don’t need a big gesture like this, but I know she’s going to love it because she loves you.”

I hoped he was right.

I saw the weekend zeppelin from London come in, lowering over the city where it was scheduled to moor. Samira would be here soon.

And Iggy wasn’t finished.

He towered over the beach, his metal skin gleaming in the sun, but something was wrong on the inside. The steam engine in his belly, which was supposed to puff steam out of his nose and make him turn his head, wouldn’t start up.

George saw me check my pocket watch for the umpteenth time and removed the wrench from my hand. “I’ll look into it. Go.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

My wheels skidded on the sand and rocks, but I reached the mooring station just as the passengers were disembarking. The sight of Samira standing there in her trademark trousers and parasol combo made my clockwork heart tick audibly. She came. I didn’t really doubt that she would, but still.

She flashed me a quick smile. “I don’t want to fossil hunt,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“That’s not why we’re here,” I promised. “But I do want to show you something on the beach, if that’s okay.”

She slipped a hand around my armrest and walked with me. When Iggy’s head poked up over the rocks, she broke into a run, forcing me to go full speed to keep up.

Laughing, she went right up to Iggy and ran her hands over his massive legs. “He’s so biologically accurate!”

But did he work? I looked to George, who gave his head a quick shake.

Blast.

Samira didn’t seem to mind, though, marveling at every detail of the dinosaur’s posture and shape. “And the thumb spikes that aren’t horns!” she exclaimed, her hands flapping in excitement.

And she wasn’t the only one who appreciated our work. A small group of pith-helmeted paleontologists had abandoned their digging and scanning in order to come and admire Iggy.

“It really is magnificent,” one scientist said. “The anatomy is nothing like what we’ve been assuming they looked like, and yet…”

“It’s so logical,” his colleague agreed. “Why should they be fat and slow? Look at elephants—heavy, but sturdy and not so sluggish as their size would suggest. There’s no reason these terrible lizards couldn’t have been similar.”

A third paleontologist turned to George. “My good man, might we pick your brain on the neck of the plesiosaur?”

George held up his hands. “I just did some riveting—the real geniuses are Matilda and her girlfriend Samira.”

“Mostly Samira,” I added, glancing at her. “And I’m not sure if she’s my girlfriend or not, but I’d like her to be.”

She beamed at me. “I would also like that.” To the men, she said, “I have a lot of thoughts on plesiosaur neck anatomy. I can show you my sketches, and I saw a layer of strata that could bear fossils over here…”

She led them away, chattering about prehistoric life with that pure joy that made her so amazing.

That girl took my breath away.

END

“Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons” is copyright Jennifer Lee Rossman 2019.

This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library.

You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, leaving reviews on iTunes, or buying your own copy of the Autumn 2018 issue at www.glittership.com/buy. You can also support us by picking up a free audiobook at www.audibletrial.com/glittership.

Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a reprint of “The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen” by Jenny Blackford.

Episode #76 — “Of Clockwork Hearts and Metal Iguanodons” by Jennifer Lee Rossman was originally published on GlitterShip

#GlitterShip #lgbtq fiction #queer fiction #short stories #science fiction and fantasy #podcast

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swipestream · 5 years

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Fantasy and Adventure New Releases: 13 April 2019

This week’s roundup of the newest releases in fantasy and adventure features elemental magi, xianxia monks, and three flavors of cop–saint, superhero, and Burrito Avenger.

City of Shadows (Saint Tommy, NYPD #4) – Declan Finn

London is alive with the sound of shadows.

When Tommy Nolan was sent abroad to avoid being made a saint too soon, he thought he’d be a glorified tourist. But when an impossible prehistoric artifact the Vatican is looking at is stolen from the British Museum, they do the first thing that comes to mind — they call the cops.

But Tommy is soon convinced that the artifact is more than it seems. The crime scene looks like a war zone. The owners of the stolen merchandise eye him with suspicion. His new partner has a shady, mysterious past. The police are ready to arrest him. The city itself seems primed to explode.

Worst of all, the darkness itself is closing in on Tommy, the city, and everyone who lives there.

But Tommy isn’t one to curse the darkness. The darkness curses him.

Cloak of Dragons (Cloak Mage #1) – Jonathan Moeller

My name is Nadia, and I’m an errand girl.

Except my boss is the High Queen of the Elves.

And my errands for her involve spying on people. Or stealing things. Or hunting down monsters. Or, on occasion, killing people.

But this time she wants me to solve a murder.

And unless I find the killer, I’m going to be his next target…because dragons never forgive a murder.

The Fire Within (Elemental Academy #1) – D.K. Holmberg

A single mistake has far-reaching consequences for a carpenter’s apprentice.

With the threat of rogue elementals escaping from the element bond and fear of another attack by the Draasin Lord, life at the edge of Terndahl is difficult for Tolan. Without any magic of his own, he spends his days working a menial job as a carpenter’s apprentice. When an elemental attack draws the attention of the Inquisitors from the Academy, everything changes.

A mistake brings Tolan into the Terenhall Academy, a prestigious training ground for powerful shapers, but it’s a world where he doesn’t belong. Unlike his classmates, he can’t control the magic of the element bonds.

As elementals continue to escape the bond and attack the Academy, Tolan finds himself in the middle of danger. With no shaping ability, he fears there’s something more to the attacks. Now he must save the Academy and find a way to stop these attacks—and find the one behind them.

Going Native & Other Stories – J. Manfred Weichsel

It’s a strange world out there…

A space traveler learns the dangers of getting too involved with another species…

Aliens want to teach humanity the secrets of the universe—If only we could stop laughing at them…

The social elites have a dark, twisted secret that makes race relations a nightmare…

It would be misleading to say J. Manfred Weichsel only writes fantasy or science fiction. Going Native features six stories to entertain and explore the darkest realities of what it means to be human (or not.) With bizarre alien landscapes, gripping plotlines, and unforgettable satire, this collection showcases a powerful voice in genre fiction.

Hollow City (Song of Karma #1) – Kai Wai Cheah and Thomas Plutarch

Six kills in six years.

Super powered cop Adam Song has dedicated his life to the law. In the military and the police force, Adam ruthlessly protects the innocent.

But this time he’s killed the wrong bad guy. Now the local drug lord’s son is dead, and the boss is out for Adam’s blood. Even his secret identity won’t keep him safe. The police department hangs him out to dry, his years of exemplary service forgotten. Adam must take justice into his own hands to keep his family safe.

Because Adam is a Song. And Songs take care of their own. No matter the cost.

When does justice become murder? And just how far will he go to protect his clan?

Maxwell Cain: Burrito Avenger – Adam Lane Smith

An action novel for fans of John Wick, Demolition Man, or Die Hard.

Maxwell Cain, also known as “Bloody Rain Cain,” is a cop fed up with the murderous hooligans who control the streets of San Pajita, California.

After years of public service, Max is fired for executing too many dirtbags, and he seeks solace at his favorite taqueria. When his comfort burrito is sullied by the careless actions of brutal thugs, Max finally snaps. What begins as an argument over a ruined lunch quickly spirals into a hurricane of blood and revenge.

Max is joined in his fight by the gorgeous Kate Valentine, a baker with an itchy trigger finger. As the two rush into battle against an entire criminal organization, they are hunted by the relentless terror of the seedy underworld: Johnny Legion.

The Scribbly Man (The Children of D’Hara) – Terry Goodkind

“They are the monsters under the bed when you are little, the shape just caught out of the corner of your eye when you thought you were alone, the shadow of something in a dark corner that surprises you and then isn’t there. They stop you dead with a knot of unexpected terror in the pit of your stomach. We have all seen fleeting glimpses of them. Never long enough to see them as I saw them, but it was them. I recognized it the instant I saw it. We’ve all seen flashes of them, the dark shadow just out of sight. They could briefly terrify us before but never hurt us because they came from so far distant. They were never able to fully materialize in our world so we saw only transient glimpses of them, the shape of them if the light was just right, if the shadows were deep enough . . . if you were afraid enough. I think that the star shift has brought us closer to their realm so that they now have the power to step into our world and hurt us.” —Kahlan Amnell

A Thousand Li: the First Step – Tao Wong

Long Wu Ying never expected to join a Sect or become a real cultivator. His days were spent studying, planting rice on the family farm and spending time with his friends. Fate, however, has different plans for Wu Ying and when the army arrives at his village, he and many other members of the village are conscripted. Given the opportunity to join the Verdant Green Waters Sect, Wu Ying must decide between his pedestrian, common life and the exciting, blood soaked life of a cultivator.

Join Wu Ying as he takes his first step on his Thousand Li journey to become an immortal cultivator.

The First Step is the first novel in A Thousand Li series, a book on cultivation, immortals, wondrous martial art styles and spirit beasts and will be loved by wuxia and xanxia fans.

Fantasy and Adventure New Releases: 13 April 2019 published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

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sjohnson24 · 5 years

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The Magic and Mystery of Tyrannosaurus Rex

Vulnerable Gods

Armageddon Shatter time Fragile glass Left behind Broken bones Names unknown Heaven beckons Us back home

A Brief History The tyrannosaurus rex means “king of the tyrant lizards.” The spirit of the tyrannosaurus is known to be aggressive, beautiful and powerful. The dinosaur is considered to have the strongest bite of any ever known today. There are many species of this creature, yet all are ancient rulers of a distant time and land, which will not be forgotten.

They are thought to have originated in Asia, as a sort of invasive species, overcoming all other beings with its reign of terror. The first tyrannosaurus developed over 170 million years ago, during the jurassic period. The gene began as a more advanced and intelligent dinosaur, with outstanding sensory ability and instinctual perceptions. Soon, they evolved into the tyrannosauruses of our nightmares, as a vicious carnivorous rising empire, hell bent on murder and expansion. This began a monarch over our ancient lands and ended, nearly 65 million years ago, during a mass death, known as the K-T extinction event, thought to be brought on by an asteroid.

The physical characteristics of this creature vary between each species and its evolution. In the start, they were smaller and slowly advanced into larger and hungrier versions of itself. Starting at about the size of a horse and slowly advancing to that of a tall building. It is thought by some, the dinosaur did not always feast on meat but, instead plants and insects, until it developed slowly into a killer, which could only be overtaken by the cosmos itself. The T-rex is said, at its strongest point, to be able to consume 500 pounds of meat, in one bite.

The creature is known to have a lizard tale, large mouth, and two small hands, whose use is still unknown and uncertain. The largest t-rex fossils found to date, place the length of this most powerful creature, at over forty feet long.

The mystery of the dinosaurs is still being researched and it is not considered to be a thoroughly developed subject at this time, as much speculation and misinformation exists. The study of this creature is an ongoing process, which with time, will be solved. Bones and fossils are discovered frequently, leading to more testing and information to be brought forward. The important thing about mystery is that, there is a quest for knowledge that is invaluable, priceless and can help us to protect our species and ecosystem, in the future.

Mass Domination & Alien Interference The mass domination of this species suggests that the extinction event must have occurred at an ideal time for the planet. Although, for the t-rex, it may have seemed like a paradise, for the rest of the species on Earth, it is a hell. Could there have been interference from an extraterrestrial source to stop the overwhelming reproduction of this dinosaur? After all, the kiss of death came from outer space. It is not unlikely that there was a divine hand in this prehistoric Armageddon.

Although, we would like to believe that we have acquired all the wisdom of the world, there is only so much that our species has recorded; it is only a blip on the radar of Earth. Nothing is set in stone and if it is, even stone becomes broken, lost and transformed.

Anything is possible.

Soul of the Dinosaur Despite the fact that the land of the dinosaur was transformed into a fiery, unbreathable, and unlivable landscape, these creatures live on, in other realms. These realms are such like; art, dreams, fantasy, history and recreation. The energy is real and it affects our subconscious in many ways.

You can imagine a tyrannosaurus as your soul animal, when you are trying to overcome large obstacles. Imagine that you are a conqueror, unafraid of your enemies. Spirit animals are a creation of energy manifestation, which can actually help us to creatively process through difficult emotions, and begin our healing.

Some of these manifestations have come through dreams. It is thought that if you dream of this animal, it signifies anger issues. When we have anger issues, we cannot focus on those around us, only ourselves, and catastrophic events may occur. To be healed spiritually, our anger is a great focus of importance and understanding.

A tyrannosaurus also holds a lot of prehistoric magic in its energy. The t-rex is thought to be very good at mastering its instincts, as it is a vicious killer, to survive. It is even thought that some t-rex ate each other. It is known that the t-rex has amazing sensory abilities, such as hearing and perception. Perhaps we can listen to the world around us to find what we are looking for and to the voice inside of us, that helps us to survive.

The t-rex is a great spirit to have as your companion and should be treated with respect, as this native land was once where they roamed before we ever existed. Should they have survived without outstanding cosmic events, the planet would be much different. Perhaps that one exists in an alternate reality.

Below, I want to share with you some of my dreams that I have had; concerning this fascinating soul. If you are interested in reading more of my live, updated dream journal, please visit my blog site at; www.shootingstarbaby3.bravejournal.com

Where you can also comment, or contact me if you feel a connection, or need someone to talk to about a paranormal manner.

The Dreams

Saturday, July 2nd 2016 Eating a t-rex

I am in my kitchen, which has cinnamon colored wood floors and a dinner table. There is a chair pushed up against the wall, into the table.

I notice Paul was eating something standing up. I looked at what there is to eat on the table. He told me that he was eating a t-rex. On his plate was a slice of meat and his dog is by his right side, sitting up, looking content.

Tuesday, June 14th 2016 T. rex in a treehouse

I am in a treehouse that does not have polished walls or floors. The tree has very large floors & is a pine wood color. The outside is covered with pinecones on the ground and the background is a forest.

I am with a white man with black hair and dark, deep, earth brown eyes.

He is living in the treehouse with another male with brown hair. There is an obnoxious lime green folding couch in the living area. The guy with the brown hair throws out the couch. The guy that’s with me, with the black hair, is upset about the incident, but, not mad because the other guy simply tells him it was ugly and he was tired of looking at it.

I get a telepathic message all of a sudden to watch out. A tyrannosaurus rex is inside of the treehouse, he just comes through a portal in the walls and he fits nice because there are high ceilings.

He leans down to the guy with the black hair, as if he was going to be whispering that he is here and all of a sudden a glow comes out of him, on his mouth, into the guy’s ear.

I’m just on the sidelines watching this happening as the tyrannosaurus leans back, looks towards me and disappears.

Tuesday, February 16th 2016 T-rex stalking

I am in my house and I am trying to protect my little black and white dog, Hannah. I have all the windows closed up and locked.

Outside, it is dark and dreary and I am afraid. Hannah is nervous and we keep hearing growling noises. She is in my arms.

There is a skylight and we look up and see a T-rex dinosaur looking in on us. He has a green, metallic golden, red and brown face with dark and yellow lizard eyes that blink and watch us in hunger and fascination.

Inside, I have all the lights on. There is more clutter in the house than usual and I keep packing my backpack with supplies because I think that I am going to have to leave with Hannah, once it figures out how to get inside.

Then, the rest of the dream is me in fear, confusion and anxiety in this manner.

T-rex Calling The magic and mystery of the t-rex is extraordinary. The fact that its energy is still going strong on our minds, from millions of years ago, is incredible. The sheer force of its ghost over our hearts, captivates us and transforms us. The bones buried in this ancient home, filled still with the essence, the dirt of our Earth remains, in an inconceivably vast manner.

Great energy remains from this powerful period of time and we are still waiting to harness it for the future. The t-rex is a divine force, with intelligence and vitality, deep within the soul. The love for our universe is one thing but, there is more to know, more to come from where this great realm exists.

The t-rex spirit is calling out to us from the ancient Earth; will you listen to the message it is sending you?

Deanna Jaxine Stinson, HPI Esoteric Detective aka The Rose Goddess Halo Paranormal Investigations (HPI International) https://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/HPIinternational/

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mrmichaelchadler · 6 years

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“Far Cry 5” and American Violence in Video Games

Ubisoft’s highly-anticipated “Far Cry 5” comes along at an interesting time in the national conversation about American violence, especially how it relates to the world of video games. Pop culture has been a scapegoat for real-world problems for as long as it has existed. It’s easier to point the finger at art than to honestly ask difficult questions about gun control, mental health, or even our national addiction to technology. And this blame game is cyclical. I’m old enough to remember when rap music was blamed for youth violence and "Dungeons & Dragons" would lead to Satanism. In the wake of the massacre in Parkland, and the national movement that arose from it, people have been looking more closely at the violence in video games and asking if they play a role in the desensitization of people who have made the world more dangerous. And into this conversation, one of the biggest video game companies in the world drops “Far Cry 5,” a game that weaves religion, Americana, and extreme violence into a tapestry of total chaos. In some ways, it captures its cultural moment more than any game has in years. In others, it falters. But, overall, it’s a remarkably ambitious accomplishment, a game that sucks you into its world in a way that’s addictive and overwhelming. It may not progress the conversation around violence in video games in a way that will satisfy those looking for either a scapegoat or an absolution of the form, but it could be even more valuable in the way it allows people to escape it.

First, a little background on the “Far Cry” games. The “Far Cry” games of the ‘00s were more espionage-driven, playing off the success of the Tom Clancy games about heroes rescuing victims in far-off lands. The series turned a corner with 2012’s excellent “Far Cry 3,” a game that put you in the shoes of an American tourist kidnapped on an unnamed series of islands in the Pacific and felt built more on the template of the “Grand Theft Auto” games but with its own personality. You had to learn to survive in the wild, killing animals for supplies and defeating warlords to ensure you made it home safely. It was ridiculous and enjoyable. The fourth game moved the action to a corrupt government in a fictional country in the Himalayas and a great spin-off called “Far Cry: Primal” reimagined all of this chaos hundreds of years ago with warring tribes and prehistoric animals to skin.

“Far Cry 5” does not take place in a fictional land or a world of mastodons. It takes place in Montana. And while it’s fair to say “violence is violence” to a certain degree, there’s something more intrinsically powerful about watching it unfold on the streets of America. The violence is different when a dictator king has your friends hostage as opposed to shooting your way down the steps of an American church, as the stars and stripes wave on a flagpole. And yet it feels like “Far Cry 5” never quite takes advantage of its setting to say much about the outbreaks of dissent and violence currently afflicting the country. For some, that will be a deal-breaking sin in that it’s exploitative without substance. But the stories of the “Far Cry” games have never been their strengths. It’s about world creation and exploration more than storytelling. And, in that regard, “Far Cry 5” is nearly a masterpiece.

“Far Cry 5” casts you as a deputy in Montana who gets caught up in an attempted arrest of a cult leader named Joseph Seed, who has essentially taken over this part of the country. In the game’s opening scenes, the arrest goes horribly wrong, and you’re stranded in Hope County, surrounded by cultists and a growing resistance. It is your job to liberate the county from the grip of Seed’s Eden’s Gate cult. You have to retake local buildings like gas stations and resorts that have been overtaken by the cult, and work to defeat Seed’s three siblings before tackling the leader himself. And all of this will turn you into a mass murderer along the way.

Like the “GTA” games, the “Far Cry” games are intentionally ludicrous—they’re filled with action scenes that would make Michael Bay’s suspension of disbelief break in half. Just as I was thinking about how the game incorporates real-world concerns into its narrative, I had a truly “Far Cry Moment” as I blasted an enemy off an ATV with my shotgun as a flaming helicopter plunged to the ground behind him, and my heroism was greeted by an angry wolf trying to gnaw my arm off. All at the same time. “Far Cry” games don’t remotely take place in the real world (two of the nine "hired guns" you can bring along with you on missions are a bear and a cougar), which is why the set-dressing inclusion of it in “Far Cry 5” is likely to rub some people the wrong way. For example, I just bought an AR-C weapon that has an American flag image on it called the “Stars ‘N Stripes.” The description is “If this isn’t the official firearm of the United States of America, it should be.” Does the fact that I’ll use this weapon to kill drugged-out cult members in Montana matter? With today’s national conversation about gun control and violence, is this exploitative or topical? It’s a very fine line between the two and “Far Cry 5” jumps across both sides of it.

Ultimately, it's fair to say that I wish “Far Cry 5” had more depth when it comes to the issues that it regularly incorporates into its narrative. Even the drug use impacting the heartland pops up in the story, although it’s in the form of a hallucinogenic called Bliss and not the opioid crisis. The latter would probably be too real. The former allows for a fight sequence with a drugged-out moose. But in terms of pure gameplay, “Far Cry 5” is one of the best open-world games of all time. It is addictive in its balance of story missions, side missions, and general world exploration. It features an enormous open world that gamers will be exploring and finding secrets within for months, maybe even years. Some of the side missions are a little goofy (see the aforementioned super-moose) but the story missions are rather strong for this kind of game, offering diversity in style, structure, and difficulty. Most of all, Hope County is one of the most vibrant settings that gaming has seen in a very long time. From its hidden cabins to its deadly wildlife to its miles and miles of landscape, “Far Cry 5” is immersive in a way that keeps you playing long after you should have gone to bed. I have plugged hours and hours into it, completing almost all of the main story, and I still feel like I'm just getting started.

So, what does “Far Cry 5” add to the national conversation about violence in video games? Some will claim that it’s exploitative of real-life concerns in a way that doesn’t add anything to it. However, there’s another way to look at what this game accomplishes in that it reminds us that video games are escapism. Many of the best ones take elements from our reality—from the way the “GTA” games incorporate the criminal underworld to how “Mafia III” dealt with racism in the South in the late ‘60s to how much games like “Battlefield” and “Call of Duty” have amplified patriotism to suit their needs—and turn those elements into fantasy. They often channel our fears and concerns in a way that doesn’t desensitize as much as refocus. The idea that children are learning about violence from video games is ludicrous. My son has lockdown drills at his elementary schools and he’s never played a first-person shooter. He didn't learn about guns from games; he learned about guns from the real world.

My stance on this issue, from "Dungeons & Dragons" to "Far Cry," has always been that none of this can exist in a vacuum. If someone only plays violent video games, they will almost certainly develop personality issues related to them in the same sense that they would become re-tuned by anything with which they became obsessed. Most of all, people need to talk to teenagers about violence in all forms of entertainment instead of just pointing a finger at it. That's what I do with my kids. And “Far Cry 5” might be an interesting place to start that conversation.

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