#ording

[ordinger-jung]

So./ 03.11.2024 Ording/ Strand Rochelsand Letzter Tag der Strandbar 54° Nord 😪

Ein letztes Erinnerungs-Motiv vom BAW/ Bundesamt für Wasserbau, denn die Strandbar 54 Grad Nord 54° Nord hat nach diesem schönen Novembertag die Türen für immer geschlossen.

Der Abschied ist aber auch ein Neubeginn. Denn 245 Meter östlich der alten Strandbar wächst die neue 54° immer weiter. Und ihr Pächter Uwe Kirchner wird parallel zu den Arbeiten der Handwerker mit dem Innenausbau des Restaurants beginnen, damit vielleicht schon im Frühjahr die neue Strandbar 🗝️ eröffnet werden kann. - Trotz des Meeresspiegelanstiegs soll der fünf Millionen Euro teure Pfahlbau dann mindestens 20 Jahre sichere Stehzeit haben. 🫠

Der Neubau wird eine 👨‍🦽‍➡️ barrierearme Rampe und einen Plattformaufzug bekommen. Er soll auch im Winter betrieben werden, was mit dem Nationalpark abgestimmt ist. Das Lichtkonzept für die Zuwegung muss allerdings noch final abgestimmt werden. - Zur Wintersaison 2025/26 soll der erweiterte und beleuchtete Holzsteg dann ganz fertig sein.

Der Pachtvertrag für die neue 54 wurde übrigens schon vor ihrer Zeit geschlossen. 10 Prozent des Netto-Umsatzes werden als Pacht an den Eigenbetrieb der Gemeinde fließen. 🪄

Laut Vereinbarung des Landesbetrieb für Küstenschutz und der Nationalparkverwaltung ist der Abriss der alten Strandbar, je nach Witterung, so bummelig im April geplant.

Es folgen Erinnerungsbilder der alten 54° Nord... 🙂

[disarmonia]

J'mon Sa Ord 💛

New quickie of this gorgeous creature, J'mon Sa Ord, the Soul of the Jeweled City, is the ruler of Ank'Harel. Loved the latest season of The Legend of Vox Machina, wish I had more time to draw for myself, but I am currently too overwhelmed with work and charity projects. Still I could not hold back from drawing such a beautiful character, I hope you people like them too.

[deramin2]

The great thing about a show bursting with queer characters as a normalized part of the world is that the story can have sexy tragic queer villains without it being a homophobic trope.

Diversity win! The hot card shark antique collector demon is queer! But so are most of the heroes and the Emprix that sent them there. The middle age sapphics are having a moment, and so are the situationship bis.

[berrymuttbb]

LOOK AT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!! LOOK AT THEM!!!

(They are voiced by Mara Junot a nonbinary voice actor who you may know as the voice of Shoola one of the Piltover council members from Arcane)

[kazisonline]

RAISHAN AND J'MON HOLY FUCK GIMME A CHANCE DRAGONS PLSSSS THEY'RE BOTH SO GENDER!!!!

[lorn-art]

Finally got to see them!!!

[vethbrenatto]

The Legend of Vox Machina ★ Prisoners of Ank'Harel (3x02) “You created something revolutionary, Percy.” “I have no interest in revolution.”

[unibat]

“Let’s all go to Dragon Land!” 🐉

First piece for 2024, Dragon Tales!

Made in Sai/Csp (8 hours)

I challenged myself to draw all of the line art with the crayon tool in Sai. It was a bit tough, especially when it came to selecting a small portion of random pieces with the magic wand tool…I made it work though.

I was 10 when this show aired in 99…and now I’m 34 and I still watch it for the nostalgia. My first drawing of this was made in 2016, so I redrew it 8 years later.

I LOOOOOOOVE it!

[jennydolfen]

Six fanarts, part 2: NPC edition! So many wonderful characters.

[ordinger-jung]

Mi./ 03.11.2024 um 08:00 Uhr Ording/ Strand Rochelsand ⚓️🏗 🪝 Hier bekommt das Wort Imbiss-Pause eine ganz neue Bedeutung

Ich war heute Morgen wieder gegen 8 Uhr als Webcam-Spion 👀 unterwegs und hab dabei einen Kran am Ordinger Strand entdeckt. Diesmal (letztes mal gings um die Schuppen der Strandaufsicht) hat er die Imbiss-Bude der alten Strandbar 54° Nord abgenommen und wahrscheinlich ins Winterquartier gebracht, damit sie in der sturmflutbetonten Zeit nicht davonschwimmt. - Ich bin gespannt ob wir sie bei der neuen 54 wiedersehen werden oder ob auch sie ausgemustert wird. - Was meint ihr? 💁

[ordordordordord]

God help these useless lesbians

[ernest-shackleton]

Orde-Lees cruising around in the fuck ass car!!!!

(feat. one of the first ever Oop I'm in front of the camera*awkward run out of frame*)

[thechuppster]

himedanshi harry

[elle-thereafter]

J'mon Sa Ord and Zerxus Ilerez as centuries-long poker buddies, I am living for this pair up. Do they have regular Tuesday games, just to catch up and shoot the shit? Does J'mon collect Exandrian artefacts just to gamble with Zerxus? What other things do they gamble with when J'mon runs out of priceless vestiges?

And, most importantly: do they fuck?

[jmonsaordrenaissance]

So that was a fucking lie

But lets talk about that because I love how this characterizes J'mon

Every 10ish years J'mon seeks out Zerxus to loose a game of cards against him.

Frankly I already love that for them, what a stupid thing to do and I love the idea that they collect rare artifacts for this reason (even though I do not think that is true).

Its even better when you look at the game they play. It's a talking game, a game of questions, and one with reasonably high stakes.

When you know The Thing About J'mon^tm this makes perfect sense and it's so funny to me

Spoilers under the cut, so if you don't know The Thing About J'mon come back later

Fucking brass-dragon-ass behavior there, Emprex. These fuckers just like to talk SO MUCH. A few examples from Fizban's Treasures- Dragonomicon:

Brass dragons seek out the company of other creatures that can carry on an intelligent conversation. They favor the company of such creatures over all others, often to the point of not bothering to gather minions to do their bidding and ignoring worshipers who fawn over them.

Talkative Denizens. Creatures within 1 mile of the dragon’s lair find pleasure in hearing the sound of their own voices. The air is filled with a deafening chorus of birds and small animals, and sapient creatures talk extensively.

Brass dragons often invest items in their hoards with imagined personality. A wyrmling might have a favorite marble bust or onyx cameo to converse with, while an ancient dragon might have lively dialogues with an entire gallery of paintings, statues, and tapestries.

Considered to be the most gregarious of the true dragons, brass dragons famously, or infamously, loved to talk and would engage friends and foes alike in hours of long-winded conversation... Brass dragons could not stand to let any intelligent being miss the benefit of their company and their great conversation skills because they thought themselves so great at it.

Glad to see that Devo'ssa has the opportunity to practice their natural dragon behaviors

[outofgloom]

THEY REMEMBER

His eyes hurt, his legs hurt. His arm...it all hurt. The distance hadn’t seemed all that long on the way, but he’d had a vehicle then, and his core hadn’t been exhausted from battle. Now...now the true scale of the Great Basin was made real to him. Kio on torturous kio. Even his farthest psionic senses couldn’t yet detect the minds of the workers that labored on the rim above.

Another step. His bad leg dragged, and he tottered, thrusting his good arm out for balance. His other arm poked uselessly at the air: a stump above the elbow. It didn’t help, and another pulse of telekinetic energy was needed to steady himself. He would’ve fallen headlong otherwise. That’s what it had come to.

The bad arm itched, and he was obliged to go back inside, back to the psionic corner where pain impulses filtered in from his limbs, deactivate the alarms again. Just an empty numbness now. That was better.

He continued on. He was at least halfway by now, and was that a whisper of a thought he heard? One of the dry responses of the automaton-workers, perhaps? They were always talking to the System in their heads: “Confirm this” and “Acknowledge that”. Regular, predictable. Easily tweaked.

Unlike Their minds. Down there, behind him. Theirs had been...unexpected, but he had tried, in spite of it.... Tried to do his duty.

The infestation grows, his masters had said. Down in the pits, between the foundation-ribs. Our scrying shows more hole-boring and tunnels. Toa Orde, it is time for something to be done. 

He had tried to do what his masters asked, but it had not been what he’d anticipated. A thousand eyes had looked upon him from the pockmarked cliffsides, where the creatures had gnawed away the bones of the world. A thousand minds had turned their attention to his approach, as his sky-sled dropped out of the pale light above and landed in their dim realm. He’d extended his mind to them confidently, establishing the required connections, in order to start his work. 

<<Great Beings…?>> 

The first thoughts came through. Questions, even curiosity. About him, about his masters. That was to be expected. He widened the link further, calculating population numbers. So many...a vast number of minds...but it shouldn’t be a problem.

<<Great Beings know...>> 

<<They...remember...>>

<<Remember...us?>>

He focused on the nearest of the creatures, a pair of eyes in an opening several bio above: the strongest link. He called up the mental schematic that had been provided to him, reviewed the changes required.

<<They...have not...forgotten...?>>

<<They...remember us>>

Simple enough: just a matter of finding the right mental threads to pull, the right pathways to re-wire. And then...Even these aberrants shall be brought into the grand design, as his masters had said. Even these. 

All set. He made the first change.

<<What...?>>

Confirmed. The threads yielded to his will, with only a little resistance. It was going well. 

He made the second change.

<<But...>>

Confirmed again. Pathways reshaped at his command, a little harder this time, but no problem. 

He held the threads taut for a moment to suspend the target’s behavior, re-checked the schematic. Right, all correct.

<<Why…>>

Now he made the third change. This was the most difficult, bringing the final components into conformity. More resistance, but he was almost done. Afterward, the alterations would be propagated throughout their network. Simple enough, if his calculations were—

Shock. The mental link snapped off, like a limb breaking. It stunned him, disoriented him, but only for a second. Then he was back in his own throbbing head, feeling sick.

There was a noise in the dark space above, and something smashed heavily into the ground before him: A body, all spines and serrated claws. Now broken.

It was the creature he had linked with.

It was dead.

Confusion. What had happened? He had followed the schematic, all the proper directives. The task had almost been complete, but then.... The creature.... Had it…? No, surely....

Eyes were moving, up in the darkness. Crawling and scuttling. 

He took a step back toward the sled, tried to reestablish his connection. He’d simply try again and then—

<<Rage>>

<<Resentment>> 

He felt his breathing stop. He clutched his head, clenched his jaw involuntarily. 

<<Wrath>>

<<Betrayal>>

A wall of chugging, pulsing malice struck him, and he reeled. 

Thousands of minds bent on him in unison, overwhelmed his weakened defenses. And each one felt the same thing—the same feeling of fury, of violation—all feeding each other and consuming each other in an endless psychic loop.

He’d made a mistake, somehow. These were not like the automaton-minds of the workers above. These were—

<<RAGE>> 

<<RESENTMENT>>

Not simply a web of threads and commands to be altered at his whim. They were...They were like him. How?

<<WRATH>>

<<BETRAYAL>>

Did his masters know?

<<THEY KNOW>>

Eyes moving. Voices croaking. Spines clacking. Closer now.

<<THEY REMEMBER>>

A barbed spear hurtled out of the dark, skewering his sky-sled and showering him with a cascade of sparks, and in the brief flare, he saw Them with his real eyes.

<<WE REMEMBER>>

He raised his hands. Closer.

<<WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER>>

*  *  * * * *

The basin-rim stood another few degrees higher now, and he was certain that he could catch a few strands of thought on the psy-fields. Almost within range, and then he could summon another sled to carry him the rest of the way. His arm throbbed. He’d not been able to keep the pain down for the last stretch. 

Teeth gnawing, claws raking at his armor, a shriek shattering the air as his telekinesis tore another of Them limb from limb. And still more piled on. More bodies. 

More wrath. 

More betrayal.

Maybe he deserved to feel the pain.

On a whim, he looked back over his shoulder, saw the vast wasteland sloping downward behind him. His feet left faint tracks in the fine protodermic dust that covered every sio of the Great Basin. The trail led for many kio, showing the haphazard route he had taken after emerging from the deep defile, still pursued by the creatures. He had killed more of them on the plain. He’d had to.... They wouldn’t stop.... He wouldn’t stop.

Turning back toward the distant rim, he considered for a moment simply reporting success to his masters. They trusted him. Maybe they wouldn’t truth-test the message. And then...then the last complication would be resolved. Everything in order. The valve-gates would be opened, and silver water would pour into the Great Basin.

All part of the grand design.

And down there, in the pits, down between the foundation-ribs...the flood would sweep in. And maybe that would be the end of it. 

No bodies. No traces left.

<<Rage>> 

<<Resentment> 

<<They know>>

Except with him. In his own memory. He would remember.

<<Wrath>>

<<Betrayal>>

He would always remember.