#sandstone blocks Blue mountains

[albonoooo]

hiii emy i hope you are ok lately, i love seeing ur presence on the timeline

is there an underrated part of germany u would recommend ppl check out

what are some ways you give yourself grace / are gentle to urself?

what is your favourite playlist lately

-- wiz not on anon lmfao

hi wiz! i'm doing okay, just ready for exam season and this semester to be over. this got very long, so my answers are below the cut 🫠

1. there actually are a lot of beautiful places in germany! you can get a little bit of everything here, coasts, lakes, castles, stalactite caves, mountains, beautiful old towns and so on and so forth, it just depends on where you are.

some castles: burg hohenzollern, schloss neuschwanstein (1st picture), reichsburg cochem, schloss schwerin, schloss braunfels, schloss celle, schloss nordkirchen, schloss drachenburg (2nd picture), burg eltz (3rd picture), schloss moritzburg, schloss wernigerode (schloss is german for castle, if that wasn't obvious by now)

picture source

✨️nature✨️: the devil's wall in the harz mountains (rock formation of sandstone and chalk), the stubbenkammer and the königsstuhl on rügen (two most famous formations in the chalk cliffs), the saalfeld fairy grottos (stalactite cave; 1st picture), the bastei in saxon switzerland (sandstone formation and natural monument; 2nd picture), the hainich national park (beautiful deciduous forest, unesco world heritage site), the old castle rocks in the palatinate forest (group of red sandstone rocks), the sea of rocks in the oden forest (large block accumulation of dark gray quartz diorite), the extern stones in the teutoburg forest (striking sandstone rock formation), the morsum cliff on sylt (steep coast in a unique geotope in europe), the lüneburg heath (flat undulating heath, geest and forest landscape; 3rd picture) (never realised we had so many rocks lol)

picture sources

some waters: the triberg waterfalls in the black forest (highest waterfall in germany), the königssee in the berchtesgadener land (1st picture), the mecklenburg lake district (including the müritz, the biggest lake in germany), the blautopf in the swabian alps (karst spring with intensely blue water due to its lime content), the waldnaab valley in the upper palatinate, lake constance (in the foothills of the alps between germany, austria and switzerland), the eibsee in the wetterstein mountains (2nd picture) (see is lake in german)

picture sources

old towns (with timbered houses and all that jazz): quedlinburg, heidelberg, rothenburg ob der trauber (1st picture), lübeck, erfurt, meersburg, trier, dinkelsbühl, marburg, freiburg, wismar, bamberg (2nd picture)

picture sources

there also are plenty of nice museums and so much more, but this is already way too long. in short, you'll find a lot of gems aside from the big cities (which usually really aren't that great lmao).

2. permitting myself to take longer for things than other people. for example, i've recently (mostly) come to terms with the fact that i will need significantly more than the three years standard period of study to get my bachelor's degree, for a bunch of reasons, and i am constantly reminding myself that that's nothing to be ashamed of. my reasons are valid and taking the time i need does not make me less qualified to get this degree.

3. i've been making a lot of f1 playlists lately which is a lot of fun and my favourite is one i haven't completely finished and posted yet 🤭 this one is for a much beloved ship so i want it to be as accurate as possible.

thank you for the questions <3

anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.

[mesa-mineshaft]

upgrade swamps. add better trees and new foliage. give me water hyacinths or give me death.

incorporate mud into the bottoms of the lakes. Bring Back Fireflies- introduce dragonflies with them as well. butterflies and moths, too. make bigger trees more common in forests so their both more realistic and easier to traverse. consider a rare biome called an ancient forest where all the trees are massive [think a jungle, but with less undergrowth and all the trees are oak.] add different undergrowth. add bushes and new grass like flowering grass and prairie grass and clover and ground plants. add more vine types like ivy and leaves like glowberries [wisteria? maybe.] incorporate moss into forests and add more moss types. make petrified oak it’s own wood type and add petrified forests. make jungles That Much More annoying to traverse by adding poisonous plants. add cenotes because they’re cool.

add carnivorous plants that can eat bugs and possibly produce materials from it [firefly = firefly glow, butterflies = butterfly dust, both can possibly be used as a potion ingredients, which could be justified since most carnivorous plants live in swamps. you know what else lives in swamps? yeah]. add more mushroom types. make some of them edible for the funnies. Bring Back the Birch Forest Overhaul [my BABY :wails:]. consider tree limbs that can be cut down with silk touch and used as barriers [around the same thickness as a wall, but they can’t connect to each other, though fences and walls can]. add birds to roost on said tree branches- initially they don’t do anything except add ambience [as they should], but perhaps they can drop special feathers that give effects to arrows [blue = speed, red = damage, etc etc].

bigger birds as well ; flamingos in lakes, hawks in the desert, penguins in frozen oceans. make them all tameable or at least able to perform tasks for you- flamingos can sift through the sand for treasure. penguins can fish for you. hawks can hunt for you. make it rabbits specifically, we all know how hard those are to hunt. you know what, add salt lakes for flamingos. add salt flats. add white beaches around warm oceans. add a rare white desert variant. add more flora to deserts in lush deserts or chaparrals. palm trees and oasises that grow special plants around it. add succulents- not just little echeveria but the big agave and aloe vera as well. add joshua trees and palo verde. make palo verde wood green, just to be special. add arches and hoodoo [these things] and various other sandstone structures. introduce gold panning possibly alongside archeology. add vultures that you can tame to protect you from husks [WHY don’t they burn in the sun. idc if they’re desert zombies. it’s horrible].

add desert poppies. no specific reason i just think they’re neat. add california poppies. make it so they only grow in a specific coastal mountain sub-biome. yes i tried to search up where they normally grow but minecraft is known for being hyper-specific about things so i’ll let this slide. speaking of segways, add yellowstone-style calderas. have them contain a special wildly alkaline water that has the same properties as lava, aka it will kill you if you try to swim in it. you can bottle it if you want to make potions with it. geysers also exist and can send you into the air, though they have a high chance of burning you if your too close to the hole, but you can use it to boost elytra.

consider earthquakes that can knock unsupported blocks down and open cracks in the floor, consider tornadoes and hurricanes that can flood holes with water and break weak blocks [i.e wool, leaves, banners, glass], consider whirlpools that are essentially just free moving bubble columns that are just there to mess with you. add puddles that spawn during rainstorms and underneath dripping water. add intentional seaside caves that have sand lining the floor. actually yknow what just overhaul beaches. make seaside cliffs look cooler. add beach-specific plants like beach grass and ice plants. more types of water plants- different species of kelp and sea grasses. add more ocean fauna. add ocean stacks. add special islands akin to the galápagos islands with weird ass biodiversity. add black sand beaches.

add volcanos and their sub-biomes, like volcanic fields filled with pumice and volcanic valleys with special soil and flowers and volcanic tunnels formed by old lava tubes. add fumaroles and crater lakes and hot springs. add ash and soot that functions similarly to snow that can also be found after a fire. add underwater hydrothermal vents that support special ecosystems. make the oceans deeper come ON bro. make it so it gets darker the further down you go and, unless you have a special helmet enchantment, you start to die from the pressure [ntm suffocation]. add bioluminescent fish like the stoplight loosejaw and anglerfish. add the blobfish but it actually looks normal this time. add rare bone structures similar to the ones in deserts and swamps that are home to bone worms and giant isopods. make it make sense by adding whales.

maybe even sharks. make them neutral like wolves. make some of them like nurse sharks or lemon sharks tameable, and you can use them to herd fish similar to cats and creepers. add whale sharks that you can mount though they are incredibly slow and can’t be controlled. add greenland sharks that do literally nothing except vibe. add seals or sea lions or walruses, which can be passive, neutral, or defensive, in that order. add otters that you can also tame to catch fish and collect treasure. add beavers that build dams and produce special new blocks that resemble broken wood and wood pulp. add grizzly bears. make salmon travel upstream. make fish breedable to produce roe that is a quick, albeit rather poor food source. add rice that grows in shallow water. screw it, sushi. add ducks that function pretty much like water chickens. add more fish to rivers like pike and bass and catfish. make rivers bigger btw. add lotuses and algae and water lettuce and duckweed and maybe even… water hyacinths, perhaps? do you see my visions.

[thebluenickel]

A Picture and the Story Behind It...

Part 11: The End; The Beginning

Commissioned by: @booknerd87 

Art by: @Arospaintbrush on instagram

Read on AO3 here

_______

“This is it,” Gwyn hollers from atop her mount’s back. One hand releases the reins to point down the mountainside to the cove, just barely shimmering in the twilight. “The tide pool, the amethyst, the sandstone—it’s all here. Az—” she canters back over to him “—Az, we found it.”

              “I found it.”

              Her Pegasus chuffs unhappily, white and gold mane ruffling, wings half-unfurled. Those dark, discerning animal eyes are locked on the cove.               

              Gwyn swings a leg over to jump down—and gasps as Azriel’s hands close around her waist. Too long a flight, his craving for her has grown into a gnawing need in his head. The days before Charine, the Pegasus Helion kindly gifted Gwyn, were better days.

              The clouds feel a hint colder without Gwyn in his arms; the distance edged in loneliness.

              Languidly, he lowers her to the ground, letting her body drag against his the whole way. Her hands grab for his shoulders for balance. Her lips give a kick of a smile.  

              The moment he releases, she’s off again. With a little duck of the chin and a snicker—she knows exactly what she’s doing. Little shit. He chases her at a dead walk, no matter how excitedly, recklessly she scales down the mountainside.

              It’s cold up here. She’ll come in search of his warmth soon; he’ll get her back where he likes her. If she doesn’t crack her godsdamned skull open.

              “Slow down,” he orders.

              She pauses, glancing at him over her shoulder. Copper hair flips and flickers in the breeze—fire and riches. “Hurry up.”

              “No.” He scowls; she scowls. “Wait for me.”

              She turns back to the cove beneath their feet—he’s sure she’s about to take off again. But she only puts a hand up to her eyes to block the sun, peering out at the expanse around them. Cove, mountain, distant trees. There’s a glint of purple from the amethyst inside the cave around the tide pool; the water, the deepest teal. Out from the beach, the water is a frigid white-blue. A massive chunk of ice is resting on the sand, slowly melting.

              “We should split up to check the shore,” Gwyn decides, “The tome mentioned a rock formation that we’ll need to find. If it’s not in the cave, it could be somewhere on one of the sand bars.”

              “It could also be out on one of the reefs, only visible at low tide.” Azriel finally reaches her side and grabs one of her hands. He points with both their hands at the iceberg, perched on the beach. “Or it’s frozen in there.”

              She abides his gentle tug, following him down the mountain, carefully. “That is a strange ice formation. Could you penetrate it with your shadows?”

              “I prefer to do that myself.”

              She snorts. Pink dusts across her cheeks, the sunset reaching out to touch the color, to play with it. Az nearly reaches for it, too, wanting to touch the heat beneath her skin. But she releases him, hopping off the last lip of the mountain. Her feet land in the sand, and she moves in the direction of the sandbar on the cove’s right.

              Az hops down, making to chase after her. She points to the left, calling to him to check that way—and adding, as an afterthought, thank you.

              He sends two shadows to follow her—four shadows follow her; they couldn’t decide amongst themselves who deserved the privilege—and he goes, obediently, to the left of the cove. The entrance to the cave is a thin crevasse in the mountainside. At a distance, it could look like lips, just opening to speak.

              The wind whirls through it, as if trying to give it breath. To allow it to whisper.

              The sandbar is wide enough at first to walk comfortably, pebbly and coarse. But the sand turns to larger and larger stones until he’s hopping from boulder to boulder. Glancing occasionally down into the water for anything toothy, he circles as far around the mountainous island as he can before he has to return back the other way. Dusk is rapidly descending.

              His feet hit pebbles and sand again, and something squeals.

              “Sorry,” he says to the otter, flopping onto its little feet to yell at him to the best of its abilities. Az didn’t step on it, but he came very close. “I’m sorry, little one.”

              It lashes its body at him, like a cat preparing to pounce. He crouches down, offering out a gentle hand. It bites him. Acceptable consequence. He apologizes again, standing to carefully skirt the animal, but it skitters back, yelling again.

              “Can I help you?”

              It chitters at him.

              “Fascinating.”

              It’s eyes narrow—like it knows he’s patronizing it. Then it whips around, bounding back in the direction of the cove. It pauses a few feet away, turning to look at him. More yelling.

              Gwyn’s going to love this. Az follows the otter, pausing as it runs a few more feet ahead, and follows again. The process repeats thrice before it deigns to trust him, still following—an otter. He clears the corner of the sandbar, stepping back onto the cove’s beach and finds the otter standing at the edge of the ice block.

              He flashes his siphons four times in Gwyn’s direction—the signal to rendezvous—watching the otter watching him. Footsteps jog through the sand, kicking up a quiet ruckus. The otter doesn’t break eye-contact with Azriel.

              “What did you—” Gwyn stops “—I see. You made a friend, Shadowsinger.”

              “It led me here.”

              She’s quiet for a long moment. Troublemaking is tangible in the air, it tastes like strawberries and vanilla. “What’s its name?” she asks.

              “I haven’t named it,” he mutters, “It’s not a pet. Just—look at it.”

              “Very cute.”

              “No.” He turns his eyes away from the otter to cock a brow at Gwyn. She makes an effort to subdue her amusement, but her smile glows that same impish pink as her blush in the sunset. He wants to kiss that smile—bite it. “Look at the sentient otter, Gwyn.”

              She furrows her brow at him, glancing down at the otter. It sits up on its back legs, flicking its little feet in her direction—almost a bow. She grins, kneeling in front of it, reaching out an offering hand. It bumps its forehead against her palm, purring.

              Dancing teal eyes turn up to Az. “Are you sure it’s not a pet.”

              “We’re not keeping it.” He motions at the ice block the otter is still resting on. “It wants us to look under that ice. It’s not a natural formation. I could see it from out there—” he points towards a hook in the sandbar he was exploring, where it dives out nearly into reef territory “—It’s sheer on the side facing the water.”

              “The waves should’ve beaten it down.”

              He mouths, like you, at the otter. “I can use my siphon to knock the ice away. We could see what’s underneath.”

              She nods her approval, leaning down to whisper to their furry friend, “You’ll have to get out of the way. Can you do that?”

              The otter hops off of the ice, flopping into the water and disappearing beneath the surface. It pops back up, floating on its back far out into the waves. Gwyn moves in the opposite direction, taking cover higher up the mountain’s surface.

              Azriel fires up each of his siphons individually, letting them warm against him, through him. The thundering in the center of his chest kicks joyously—ready to escape, eager to detonate. But he holds the power in his hands, the throbbing and the liquid destruction. It rolls through his fingers, between his scars, tracing the ridges.

              He aims it towards the ice’s center of mass, and he releases a blast of magic. A sound like thunder rolls from his chest—

              The ice is torn into shrapnel and shards, spraying in every direction. He puts up a shield; Gwyn ducks behind a boulder. He throws a shorter blast of power at the rock formation revealed from beneath the ice, to knock away the moss and mold.

              Rock formation—hardly. It’s a statue.

              A Pegasus, wings open, mid-leap; a warrior on its back, sword half-free from a sheath at her side. And three shimmering gemstones imbedded within the carving. An emerald between the Valkyrie’s eyes—the center; an amethyst at the hollow of the throat—the balance; and a lapis lazuli against the sole of her foot—the promise to leave any land tread upon better than they found it.

              “Holy gods,” Gwyn whispers, standing at Az’s shoulder. He didn’t register her coming closer. But he can feel her now—the tremor in the hand she reaches out towards the statue; the warmth of discovery in her chest. He can feel it in himself. An echo, a mirror. “She’s beautiful.”

              “The Last of the First Valkyries.”

              The First of the Reborn Valkyries places her trembling hand against the stone nose of the Pegasus. Copper hair billowing, she stares, transfixed, at the statue. “Do you think they’re here?”

              “The tome has been correct so far,” Az says, noncommittally. He wants to find the lost Pegasi—with Gwyn, for Gwyn. But he can’t put too much hope in her heart if there’s any chance it’ll be dashed against these rough hewn pebbles. Shrapnel and shards. “The tome mentioned a summoning?”

              Gwyn nods, moving around the Pegasus. “If we press each of the gemstones from mind to foot, it will activate a signal. It’ll call the Pegasi home.”

              “To the Day Court?”

              “No,” her voice is quiet—almost forlorn, “No, here is their home.”

              Because these are the Pegasi that were released before the Valkyries’ final battle. Ten were given back to the wild, told to find a safe place. To grow, to prosper—and to be ready for the Valkyries to rise again. The warriors knew they were going to die that day. And they spared the smallest semblance of themselves, to be rescued in a far off future.

              The Final Valkyrie was a female cursed to die already, sick. She was barely able to move the day the rest fell. But they tied her down to her mount, and they sent her with the Pegasi. They told her to find her peace.

              She must have found more than that—if this statue is here.

              Unless someone else found the Pegasi and kept it a secret. Unless this is only a memorial sight and nothing more.

              “We should build a fire,” Gwyn says softly, “Make camp. We can explore further in the morning.” She makes to duck past Az in search of firewood, their supplies—he doesn’t care. He grabs for her arm, pulling her to him, searching for the source of the darkness in her eyes. “Az, we will freeze to death out here. Isn’t that what you’re always grumbling about?”

              He wraps an arm around her waist, tucking her in closer. “What’s wrong?”

              She blinks at him. “Wrong?” she repeats. “Nothing.”

              His shadows whisper, truth. But he can see it in her eyes—nothing wrong, per se; but she’s lost somewhere in her mind. Between the stacks, adrift in pages, she’s overflowing with stories too big to hold in her hands. Her eyes flutter closed, lashes brushing his cheek as he rests their brows together. A soft breath touches his lips.

              “Every beginning has an end,” she whispers, “Am I allowed to hate that?”

              He carefully laces his fingers into the strands of her hair, holding her close as he presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then the other. “Hate it. Love it. Hell, pick a fight with time itself; I’ll back you up.”

              She smiles, and he kisses the corners again. Better. “Time is hard to kill.”

              “I can think of a few ways.”

              “No,” she laughs, smacking him in the chest with the back of a hand. “You know what I meant.”

              “Of course.” He strokes a straight, intent line down her spine, following the shiver of his own touch. She presses in, her balance yielding to his gravity. Her lips are parted, soft and pink—he makes her wait an extra moment before he gives her what she wants. Makes her tilt her chin up timidly in request before he gives in to her.

                Strawberries and vanilla, decadent mouth; his perfect indulgence. She kisses him like she wants to savor the moment. He kisses her like he wants more moments. He gets ahold of one thigh—sleek, soft—wrapping it around his waist, and he grabs her other. She makes a soft, startled sound into his mouth as she’s relieved of the ground.

              Her legs clamp down tight around him. He can feel the heat of her center through their leathers; he wants the plush press of her breasts in his hands. But she breaks their kiss, ducking out of his reach.

              He glares at her lips.

              They smile. “We have an audience.”

              A little yelling goes up from behind them. That damn otter is back, flipping and flopping in the surf, waggling around for their attention.

              “I think it wants—” Gwyn points up over Az’s shoulder at the gems imbedded in the statue. The otter seems to nod; she nods back. Nicer manners than she shows Az on a regular basis.

              A nickering goes up from Charine, and Gwyn climbs down out of Az’s arms. He catches her wrist before she can get too far away, letting her pull him along in her wake. He helps her clamber up onto the statue to press on the emerald. Then, the amethyst. Finally, with a crunch, the lapis lazuli.

              The statue gives a faint, wheezing grind—

              They back away. Azriel places her behind himself, siphons blazing up a winter fire again. Charine is moving, in his peripheral vision—he reaches out a hand to stop her from getting too close to the statue. But she fluffs out her wings and moves to the edge of the beach, head up proudly.

              Azriel’s shadows feel it a moment later. A change, a shift in the turn of the world—something new, something beginning.

              In the distance, wings boom.

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 8

chapter list / previous / next

Tallpaw padded behind Dawnstripe, struggling to see over the long grass and stifling a sneeze as it tickled his nose. “But I’m confused,” he said. “Why did Heatherstar suddenly change her mind?”

Dawnstripe shrugged. “I don’t think Heatherstar ever changed her mind, it hadn’t been decided to begin with. The council makes an official decision the night before the ceremony about how an apprentice will train, and with who.”

“My father sounded so sure about me being apprenticed to Woollycloud…”

“Well, parents always have hopes and preferences, but it’s never definite. I suppose Sandstone decided that on his own.”

“Do you think Heatherstar really only did it because she doesn’t like him?”

“Of course not! Heatherstar would never do that. She made you a moor runner because she thought you wanted to be. You look so miserable trying to dig, and you're such a natural runner. The deputy, medicine cat, and elders must have had an agreement as well.”

I doubt Whitetooth did… But the others...they really thought that? Tallpaw was silent for a moment. 

Dawnstripe paused and looked at him “Do you want to be a tunneler? Heatherstar made the call, but if you really wanted to, she wouldn’t deny you. Cats have changed before. If you want Woollycloud to train you...”

“N-no it’s…” Tallpaw fumbled, still trying to piece his feelings together. “I guess...I’ve never actually thought that much about what I want. I thought it was just what I needed to do.”

“Think about it now. I’d love to train you, I’ve always wanted an apprentice. But it’s your path, Tallpaw. What do you want?”

Tallpaw looked up at her. “I...I don’t want to be a tunneler,” he mewed, a twinge of shame nagging at the back of his head as the words left his mouth. Yet, as soon as he said them, he knew they were true. “I don’t like it...I’m not good at digging. I’m not built like Plumclaw or Woollycloud. I never feel like I’m making progress, and I keep hurting my claws, and I hate feeling cramped in the dark, and...and…”

Dawnstripe purred and rested her muzzle briefly on his head. “Then say no more. This is your first day as an apprentice Tallpaw! Get excited! From today, you start to become a real warrior. Your father may be upset at Heatherstar, but surely not at you. I’m sure he’ll understand if it’s what you want. You are a warrior to your clan, not just to one cat. Now save your worries for later, I want to show you something.”

A real warrior… The thought warmed him from nose to tail tip. It didn’t matter what he specialized in. They were all warriors just the same, that was surely enough.

“Where are we going?” Tallpaw huffed. He hadn’t realized how tall this hill really was until he was climbing it. Dawnstripe shot a wide grin at him as they neared the top.

“The top of Outlook Hill. You can see everything from there. The wind can be heavy without the hill to block it, so brace yourself. It’s blowing hard today.”

Tallpaw leapt up beside her as she finally paused at the top. She wasn’t kidding about the wind. As soon as he’d peaked over the ridge, he was afraid he’d get knocked off his paws as the gust blasted him in the face and flapped in his ears. He ducked back down, fastening his claws tightly into the ground until it died down. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Dawnstripe encouraged. “You’ll be ok, it’s nothing to be frightened of. I’m right here with you. Come see!”

Tallpaw hesitantly straightened back up, braced this time as another gust hit him straight on, he pinned his ears back flat and squinted. When he could blink open his eyes, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The other apprentices weren’t exaggerating. He really couldn’t believe the world was so big.

 The sun was cresting the horizon behind him, lighting up the parting clouds in brilliant warm hues and bathing the moor in rosy light. The long swaying grass dropped below him in a steep downward slope and spread out almost further than he could see, stretching into a wide expanse of heather and gorse bushes dotting the fields, sparkling and heavy with last night's rain. Hills and mountains he’d never known about lay beyond, tinted blue in the distance, their peaks lit up in gold as the sun's rays touched them. Standing here at the highest point of the moor, he was suddenly aware of how tall this hill really was and almost felt unsteady on his paws at the thought of the wind force sending him tumbling back down.  He found himself wondering if birds felt a similar way while trying to fly for the first time.

“No other cats in the forest can have a sight like this.” Dawnstripe said. “Remember wind isn’t your enemy. It is part of us, and we move with it. It guides our paws over the moor and gives us our swift step. Fierce, but also gentle, a constant presence. If you listen, you can hear her singing.”

As the frightening gust died down a bit, he pricked his ears hesitantly. His whiskers were pinned back and his ears whistled. “I only hear it whipping my ears.”

“Be still for a moment. Close your eyes, and focus on just feeling it.”

He was still as she asked, and just when he was afraid he wouldn’t understand, the gust turned into a more gentle breeze. It whistled down the hill side, ebbing and flowing in strength. A gentle ruffling past his fur, almost like a clanmate brushing along his side. As he closed his eyes, he pictured it moving down the hill, weaving past the sage brush, around the gorse and the scarce scraggly trees. It was all so far away, but letting the scents sink in as they were carried to him, the heather on the far moor sweet on his tongue, a rabbit somewhere foraging in the thistles, it was almost as if he could picture every groove and flower clearly, even the parts of the moor out of sight. All of it connected. And then, quietly at first and then growing in volume, he heard a low whistling. High pitched, and then lower. Almost a hum as it whisked through the fields.

“I think I hear it.” Tallpaw murmured. The moor really was singing to him.

Dawnstripe brushed her tail against him. “It doesn’t always happen, but when the winds are just right, they say the matron of the moors returns to the hills. She lives on in the winds and sings to her children still, always running beside them. You are part of this place after all, the same way it will always be a part of you.”

Tallpaw could hardly believe such a view had been just above his head, towering over camp all his life and he never knew. He only barely heard Dawnstripe laugh over the whistling in his ears. “I never forgot my first sight of the moor. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“How far does it go?” Tallpaw breathed.

“The forest's edge is below those far hills. We’ll head in that direction and then make our way around. I just wanted your first view to be from the best spot, especially since the rain clouds were nice enough to part for us. You can see most of the territory from up here.”

“All of it? This is all ours?” How would he ever memorize such a large place?

“Everything between the tree lines. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

The wind blew from behind Tallpaw, as if it was tugging him forward, and a thrill ran up his spine as he was eager to let it. Fixing his eyes to the farthest point in sight he felt a leap of kit-like energy bouncing around inside him, a near irresistible urge to let that energy out and spring forward, race the wind, let it carry his paws, cross the open stretch and not stop until he reached the other side. This was nothing like looping the camp. Nothing to get in his way at all, he could fly down the hill if he wanted to, and in that instance he’d never wanted anything so badly.

A greeting meow broke him from his trance and he turned to see Briarpaw and his mentor Meadowbreeze trotting towards them. Dawnstripe waved her tail in greeting.

“Good morning, Dawnstripe!” Meadowbreeze called. “We were hoping to join you for a bit on Tallpaw’s first territory tour before hunting practice, if you don’t mind!”

“Not at all Meadowbreeze.” Dawnstripe nodded at the pale tortoiseshell. The two mollies greeted each other as Briarpaw came to touch noses with Tallpaw.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn't it?” Briarpaw purred, looking out at the endless sky. “I almost fell down the hill during me and Shrewpaw’s first day. The wind was much stronger, not to mention a lot colder.”

Tallpaw let his  gaze drift back to the hills. “I feel like I could get lost just looking at it.” Now that he’d seen how big the world was, he was somehow greedy for the sight of more of it. This was only WindClan territory and it looked like so much. 

After a moment's silence, Briarpaw cleared his throat and said, “so...moor runner after all, huh? Who would’ve thought?” Tallpaw’s ears set back in slight discomfort. “Y-yeah, I guess so…”

“I always thought you’d be suited for it, you know. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d be interested. But you used to be faster than both me and Shrew, even though you were younger.” He paused for a heartbeat. “How, uh...how are you feeling?”

Tallpaw knew what he was referring to, though neither of them wanted to directly acknowledge the uncomfortable spat Sandstone and Heatherstar had in the middle of it all. He tried to remember what Dawnstripe said. Now wasn’t the time to worry. “I’m fine. I’m going to be a warrior, right? That’s all that matters.”

“That’s the spirit.” Meadowbreeze broke in. “We’d all better get a move on if you want to finish by sundown! You're starting at the northern border first right?”

Dawnstripe nodded and pointed her nose to the shorter hill. “Yep, it’ll be just over that rise, up the Swift-Step hills.” She winked at Tallpaw. “You can run there if you like. I know you want to.” 

Tallpaw did want to very much.

“Well then, race me there!” Dawnstripe called as she took off in a flash. 

Tallpaw instantly forgot any lingering anxiety as he streaked after her without a second thought, straight down the steep drop. He reveled in the wind whistling through his whiskers, letting gravity carry him down as much as his legs. The sharp incline of the hill made him feel like he was falling with each bound when his paws weren’t touching the earth, but the feeling was more exhilarating than frightening. If anything, it felt more like flying. I’d like to see Shrewpaw try to outrun me! he thought gleefully. The smug brown apprentice would be in for it now. He didn’t even care that the dew in the grass had left him soaked.

Tallpaw was proud of himself for almost managing to match Dawnstripe’s pace to the next hilltop, even if part of him knew she was probably intentionally keeping pace with him. Not too much farther ahead, the ground sloped down again into a thin strip of woodland. Faint rumbles in the distance made Tallpaw’s fur stand on end.

“Is that thunder?” he looked up in confusion. There wasn’t a dark cloud in the sky.

“That would be the Thunderpath.” Dawnstripe said. “Let’s go a bit closer. It’s important for you to know about it.”

Tallpaw wasn’t sure he wanted to. Briarpaw brushed against his side. “It’s not scary so long as you don’t touch it,” he said.

Once they reached the towering row of trees that Tallpaw had seen from the distant hill, he realized they were much bigger up close. WindClan’s camp didn’t have anything that tall. Tallpaw craned his neck up, but he couldn’t even see the tops of the pines past the snaring branches. Through the sparse undergrowth lay a long, black path of what looked like strange flat stone. A horrible acrid stench reached his nose. A rumble of thunder echoed in his ears, coming closer and faster. Tallpaw cowered instinctively and tried to turn, but Dawnstripe held her tail in front of him.

“Don’t be afraid, we’re safe here,” she said.

A massive shining beast came hurtling across the stones, so fast Tallpaw couldn’t even make it out clearly. It streaked past them and over a rise on the path before vanishing into the distance.

Tallpaw didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he let it out.

“That would be one of the twolegs monsters. We understand little about them other than they always stay on their path, and they can kill a cat with their feet if you ever get in their way.” Dawnstripe pointed ahead with her nose. “Do you see that flat smudge on the path? That was what appears to be a small squirrel.”

This close, Tallpaw could almost smell the scent of old rotting prey, but the red of its flesh was blackened and completely flat. If Dawnstripe hadn’t told him it was a squirrel, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to tell.

“That is why you must stay well away from those creatures' paws. They just run down everything in their way. Even something as big as a deer isn’t safe, and neither are we.”

“Do they eat cats?” Tallpaw’s voice shook slightly as he spoke.

Dawnstripe shook her head. “They don’t eat anything. They aren’t like animals. The good news is they are so loud, you can always hear and feel them coming. But it’s still best to stay well away from this place, and don’t ever chase prey onto the Thunderpath.”

“But...what are they? Are they like the bad spirits the elders talk about sometimes?”

“No, not like that. Even the elders aren’t sure what they are exactly, we only know they are tied to the twolegs somehow, and nothing good ever comes out of anything that's been touched by twolegs. Sometimes you can even see them inside. There was a time seasons ago when the clans never had to deal with twolegs or their monsters at all, and this path wasn’t here, but then they came in noisy droves and after some moons, the Thunderpath and the monsters were here. That's how the elders tell it anyway.”

“If the monsters aren’t really animals, does that mean twolegs aren’t either?” 

“If they had a proper name, we wouldn't dignify them with it,” Dawnstripe curled her lip in disdain. “They’re tall, awkward, and ugly things with no fur. They can’t be killed, as far as we know, and the animals they keep are often as dangerous as them. Dogs, for one. They bring destruction and danger wherever they go and they don’t behave in any way we can predict or understand. They are no friends to cats.”

“I heard cats live with them,” Briarpaw said.

“Some cats do, those are the kittypets you may have heard the warriors talk about.” Meadowbreeze explained. “I feel sorry for them really, they must have been brainwashed to stay docile and locked up the way they are. Twolegs try to capture a cat's heart so they lose all sense of their natural wild spirit.”

“Would twolegs ever come into our territory to try and make us kittypets?” Tallpaw asked nervously. Dawnstripe rested her tail on his shoulder reassuringly. “We are luckier than ThunderClan and ShadowClan that the nearest twolegs to us live on a farm further to the north, beyond that farther treeline. Twolegs have been edging closer to the other clans' territories for seasons, but StarClan has kept us safe from them so far. We never see them or their kittypets come as far as the moor, so you don’t have to worry. Besides, I heard they are very slow, and we can outrun them easily. Tallpaw didn’t need to be told twice. If he never had to meet a twoleg or their captive animal servants for as long as he lived, he would be perfectly happy with that.

“But that’s not the only thing to be wary about here,” Dawnstripe said and flicked her tail motioning for her apprentice to follow her as she padded along the woodland stretch.

 The Thunderpath was high above them now, and underneath the hill was a long narrow opening that led to the other side. The ground in front of it was squishy and wet, dotted with drowned brown plantlife. Through the other side, thick dark trees tangled together. A disgusting scent reached his nose, not as strong as the monster stench, but strong nonetheless. It smelled of wet moldy dirt and soggy prey he couldn’t quite place. 

“This,” continued Dawnstripe, “is our border with ShadowClan.”

ShadowClan. This was where those cats lived, tangled in those shadowy trees. It looked suffocating, almost as bad as how he pictured the tunnels themselves. In the dark undergrowth and tree branches twining together above them, he imagined the air in there was as wet and muggy as the ground at his feet.

“How can cats be content living in there?” Tallpaw asked. He remembered the elders' tale about how ShadowClan was banished to the dark swamp lands. No wonder they had been jealous of WindClan’s moor if that was where they lived. “Can they even get fresh air?”

“Not really. They must like it, I guess.” Briarpaw shrugged. “They’re a weird bunch.”

“Not a nice bunch either.” Meadowbreeze added. “Some say the heart of their territory is so dark, you can hardly tell the time of day. It must be horribly dreary.”

“This border is dangerous to wander on your own right now. We have no idea what ShadowClan is up to.” Dawnstripe warned. “They seemed to be sniffing around some moons ago, but it’s been quiet since. They’re very stealthy, so we have to keep a lookout for them.”

Tallpaw imagined the dark fox-muzzled cats he’d heard about peering at him from the far shadows. He shivered involuntarily and was grateful when Dawnstripe motioned for them to keep going. 

“We shouldn’t stay here long. We’ve got a lot farther to go. But now you know ShadowClan’s scent. Remember it, and keep an eye out.” 

Dawnstripe and Meadowbreeze began padding away, but Briarpaw dragged a bit behind, staring through the tunnel at the darkened tree line. Tallpaw turned back to him. “Briar? What’s wrong? we have to catch up.”

Briarpaw nodded absentmindedly and followed after Tallpaw, his fur prickling along his neck. 

Tallpaw looked at him quizzically. “You didn’t see any cats did you?”

He shook his head. “Not cats no...those woods just give me the creeps. I mean, more than usual. It’s like I can see the shadows of the trees stretching out toward us like claws, and covering the moor territory. I get such a bad feeling from them.”

The sun wasn’t bright enough to cast such dark shadows from what Tallpaw could see. He hooked his long tail around Briarpaw’s and led him onward. “Any sensible cat would get a bad feeling from there. Well lucky we don’t have to live in it. Let’s just get far away from here--and quickly.”

***

Tallpaw’s march around the territory had gone through the day into dusk. They’d only paused briefly for a short break before they were out again. He’d never walked so much in a day and his head was still reeling with all he had to take in. Dawnstripe assured him he would learn it bit by bit over time. 

The other apprentices greeted him and Briarpaw when they got back into camp.

“Sorry we couldn’t see your first time around the territory with you. We’re nose deep in our training right now since me and Fawn are getting ready for the newleaf race.” Fallowpaw chirped.

Tallpaw cocked his head. “The...newleaf race?”

Shrewpaw snorted. “Yeah, duh! They’ve been talking about it for moons! You spent so much time splashing around in the mud that you didn’t even hear about it?”

“It’s a tradition,” Briawpaw explained. “You know, at the start of every newleaf we celebrate the return of the warm winds by having a whole clan-wide race across the territory.”

“Like our old course around camp, except way bigger and the winner gets a feast and doesn’t have to do the bad chores for two sunrises!” Fawnpaw said. “Mostly it’s about being the fastest, though.”

Tallpaw remembered now, he had heard something about the newleaf race. But his father had told him not to be concerned about it. Just moor runner frivolities.

“It doesn’t mean as much to the tunnelers. You’re already mature for your age, I don’t expect you to get caught up in silly games to see who gets to laze around for a day.” Sandstone had told him.

 Tallpaw hadn’t thought about it as being a big deal. But I’m a moor runner now...so I suppose it is something that matters to me? Frivolous stuff... It was right then the thought he’d been putting off came violently pushing its way to the front of his mind. Sandstone. A familiar feeling of unsheathed claws turning his stomach in knots came back to him. I have to go talk to him.

“Tallpaw?” Briarpaw nudged him. “You look like you’ve just stared down a monster, what’s the matter?”

Tallpaw blinked at him with a start. “Sorry. Nothing’s the matter at all. Have um…” He shuffled his paws. “Have any of you seen my father?”

All four of them looked at each other awkwardly. Their discomfort crept into him, intensifying his own all the more.

“Sandstone? Didn’t Heatherstar put him in time out?” Shrewpaw said.

Briarpaw smacked him on the leg as Tallpaw flattened his ears in irritation. Why did Shrewpaw insist on talking about Sandstone that way?

“Never mind, I’ll find him myself,” he growled, turning away.

 Briarpaw hissed at his brother. “Stop being rude!” 

“What? I just said what happened. It’s not my fault he’s such a--” Tallpaw didn’t want to hear the rest. He was tired of feeling like he was being pulled in three different directions. I just want the cats I care about to get along. Is that so much to ask?

Part of Tallpaw was relieved he couldn’t find his father right away. Would Sandstone be angry at him? Surely he would, he practically hated moor runners. Perhaps I should bring him food...That always puts him in a better mood. Moles were his favorite, and Tallpaw prayed there were some on the freshkill pile. To his immense relief, a hunting party had returned recently. He nosed through the pile absentmindedly and picked up the biggest mole he could find. 

He looked around, still unsure of where to start looking. Where would Sandstone have gone? Perhaps to the eastern tunnel he was always talking about. He always said working calmed his nerves. But Dawnstripe hadn’t covered much about the tunneling system, and Tallpaw could only guess the general area it might be in. He was hoping his father would have already made up with Heatherstar and come back by now. Tallpaw hadn’t even noticed he was pacing anxiously in a circle until he nearly ran muzzle first into Woollycloud, causing him to stumble back and drop his mole.

 “Ah--! Sorry Woollycloud, I-I didn’t see you.” Tallpaw struggled to meet the tunneler's face, afraid of what expression he’d see.

But Woollycloud mostly looked tired, and he regarded Tallpaw with more sympathy than disappointment. “It’s quite alright Tallpaw,” he said. “Are you… looking for your father?”

Tallpaw nodded quietly, unsure of what to say. 

Woollycloud cleared his throat “Well, you’re in luck. He’s talking with Reedfeather now.”

“Is he in trouble?” Tallpaw mewed nervously.

 “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself over Tallpaw, its…'' He looked down. “Well, it is all certainly very unexpected. We’re in a rather tough spot at the moment. The project Sandstone and I have been planning for so long has hit a snag, and on top of that Heatherstar just got news again that ShadowClan may have been seen lurking outside their territory on the other side of the Thunderpath. Everyone is on edge, is all. Sandstone and Heatherstar have a bit of a tense relationship, and this came at a bad time. But this is really very normal. Reedfeather and I will smooth things over. Here they come now.”

Tallpaw saw Reedfeather’s brown tabby pelt pushing through the long heather that bordered the camp. Tallpaw dipped his head respectfully as the deputy walked by. Woollycloud started whispering something to him, but Tallpaw’s attention was fixed on Sandstone. 

His father lay stiffly next to the sunning stones near the elders' den. His tail was wound tightly around his body, and his eyes were closed like he was trying to appear at ease, but Tallpaw could plainly see his thin fur ruffled around his neck and his whiskers twitching in the way they did when he got into a bad spat with his mother. Tallpaw knew this look very well, that his father was angry, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud. Like a dangerous undercurrent hidden beneath a deceptively gentle looking stream.

 Picking up the mole he’d dropped and ignoring the heaviness weighing his paws down, Tallpaw forced himself to walk forward. It was like Dawnstripe said, Sandstone was just surprised. Maybe he wouldn’t be angry with him for not wanting to be a tunneler. There would be other cats! He tried to go over what he would say and how to make his father understand, but he didn’t even believe his own encouragement. Before he knew it, he was standing a tail length away with his tongue feeling very dry and useless in his mouth around the mole’s dusty fur. 

Sandstone opened one dark amber eye to regard him. Tallpaw remembered dimly the warmth that used to light up his gaze whenever his father saw him as a kit. He’d lived for that expression. Now those same amber eyes looked fiercely cold and hard, like frost covered stone. But after a couple heartbeats, Sandstone's tail flicked to the side, leaving an open space beside him. Tallpaw let a small bit of relief flood through him. Maybe they could pretend like nothing had happened, and they could just sit and eat together like they often did before.

Tallpaw carefully placed the mole at his paws. “I brought you some prey. I uh...I thought you might be hungry.”

Sandstone eyed the mole, his nose wrinkling a bit. Tallpaw suddenly noticed the slobber that he’d left behind on the ruffled brown fur. He’d unknowingly been anxiously chewing a hole through the side of the tiny animal during his pacing, leaving it looking ravaged and soggy. He winced and scolded himself, Ugh, you useless absolute mouse-brain!

Sandstone cleared his throat and tentatively rolled the mole over. “Did you catch this?” he asked. His tone sounded casual, but there was strain behind it as his whiskers still twitched and his ears were slightly set back with displeasure.

Tallpaw was taken aback. “Well...n-no. We spent all day touring most of the territory, so…” Tallpaw was suddenly second guessing himself. Was he supposed to have been on the lookout for prey during the tour? Was that expected of apprentices? Maybe it was a test, and I didn’t even stop to look once! Did I already mess up my training on the first day?

“Hm.” Was all Sandstone said in response. Tallpaw suddenly wanted to vanish as he wound his anxiously flicking tail around his hind paw to keep it still while his father continued, “If you’d been training in the tunnels with me and Woollycloud, you’d have already caught prey by now. I caught two moles on my first day of training. Mole hunting is a tunneler specialty.”

Tallpaw didn’t reply. He just focused on his tail, curling around his back leg.

Sandstone sniffed. “That’s not your fault, Tallpaw. It’s just how moor runners train. They take things so slow and their apprentices take ages to toughen up into warriors. You got bad luck is all.”

“Yeah, that’s it…” Tallpaw mumbled. “But I can still be a good warrior as a moor runner, right?”

 “You just won’t stand out as much is all, with so many moor runners.” It wasn’t the same as the encouragement he used to give. Sandstone always said his son would be the best warrior in the clan. “But it’s only for right now.” Sandstone added. 

Tallpaw glanced up, clearly confused. His father stared at him like he should know what he meant as he continued, “Heatherstar wants you to start training as a moor runner, and that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with learning other skills. But you can tell her you want to train in the tunnels with Woollycloud. She can ignore me if she wants, but it’s your training and you’ll never be any good at something you weren’t meant to be.”

Tallpaw curled his tail even tighter around him. “Do you want me to tell Heatherstar that I want to be a tunneler now?”

Sandstone blinked in surprise, then his gaze narrowed at Tallpaw’s hesitant tone. “Isn’t that what you want? You’ve been working so hard practically ever since you first left the nursery!”

Tallpaw opened his mouth, but he just couldn’t think of anything to say that would make this go well. He remembered what he’d told Dawnstripe. I don’t want to be a tunneler, I hate it. It’s stuffy and dark and exhausting, I just want to learn how to run and hunt on the moor.

But Tallpaw didn’t say any of that, instead he said: “I’m just...not good enough to be a tunneler. I’m not as strong as you and the other tunnelers, and my paws aren’t as tough, that’s why...that’s why it’s better for me to settle for being a moor runner.”

Sandstone’s posture immediately relaxed ever so slightly, his familiar rumbling purr rising in his throat that momentarily eased Tallpaw’s dread.

“Nonsense Tallpaw, tunneling is in your blood! Your mother struggled as a tunneler at first too you know, but when she worked at it, she became a fine tunneler! That’s all it takes. Why, if I knew that was what you were concerned about, I would have pushed Heatherstar harder.”

Dumb mouse-brain, you shouldn’t have said it like that, say something else!

“B-but now I've…” Tallpaw faltered, “I don’t want to offend Dawnstripe, she was so excited about getting an apprentice and it’s only been a day. I can’t just leave now, it would be an insult.”

Sandstone rolled his eyes “Oh she’s young, she’ll have another apprentice soon enough and probably forget all about it. But I suppose you’re right…”

Thank StarClan… 

“Even so,” Sandstone continued, “you can’t hold off training for too long just to spare her feelings, it’s better to build your muscles up while you're young.”

He still thinks you want to be a tunneler, just say you don’t! 

Why couldn’t he make the words come out? His father’s eyes were lit up again in that encouraging way he remembered so well, looking more pleased than ever. Tallpaw had to focus hard on stopping his tail from lashing with distress.

“Well I...I will train in the tunnels soon. Shrewpaw’s mentor, Hareflight, told me all apprentices learn a little bit about the tunnels, perhaps...perhaps after the newleaf race?” He said quickly.

“The newleaf race? I’d forgotten all about that silly event.”

“Yeah, er--Dawnstripe wants me to train for it. She thinks I’ll be good at it, and maybe after I’ll have more time…”

Maybe if I show him that I'm just better at being a runner, he’ll give up on the idea and I won’t have to tell him I don’t want to tunnel at all…

Sandstone seemed at least a bit satisfied with that. “After the newleaf race then, we’ll talk about it more. But just remember Tallpaw, born tunnelers usually don’t do so well in those sorts of competitions. It’s just a moor runner's way to show off since they think pure speed is all that matters. It doesn’t do much to show your skill and strength, so don’t let it get to you if you don’t win. I know that little moor-kit Shrewpaw likes to boast about racing and what-not, but it’s just vanity. He really doesn’t have anything else going for him, unlike you. So much like his father in that way.” 

Tallpaw just nodded. Sandstone seemed happier, and he even began to eat the mole Tallpaw had brought. Surely this topic could be held off for a while yet. The newleaf race was at least a quarter moon away, maybe more if he was lucky. He wouldn’t worry about it now. The rest of the evening with his father was pleasant enough as Tallpaw stuffed the clawing grip at his belly further down like he would a thorn under his nest.

chapter list / previous / next

[fallingdarling]

Monday:

She’s started baking again. The other members of the Syndicate drop by sometimes to taste-test her recipes, and she shows them the progress she’s made in the construction of her underground city. They compliment the flower paths outside the city, the bridges and floating lanterns and the gorgeous high ceilings and furnishings within, the little subterranean forest and the waterfall, the decorations and details that make the cavernous space cozy. They see what she’s built and they praise her for it and it is exhilarating. She’s grown stronger day by day with the Syndicate in her corner; they pull her up to stand on equal footing with them, and when she expresses her concerns, they listen.

There are days, however, when she can’t bring herself to bake; on those days the heat of the furnace crawls uncomfortably against her skin and the knife block rattles in the corner with each item she sets down on the countertop. On those days she’ll climb. Buildings, mountains, trees—anything that’ll get her to a height where her lungs strain from lack of oxygen and the ringing in her head eases. She jumps, sometimes. They don’t know she does this. They don’t need to know; she’s strong enough to deal with that herself.

Yesterday was their leader’s birthday, and she’d left the party with leftover cake and cookies and brioche. Today is a good day; maybe she’ll share the cookies with Jack.

—

Tuesday:

He’s called the harbinger, the omen, the angel of death. Crows perform at his bidding and the great, lumbering bears of the north shake the ground as he directs them. He emerges from impossible battles with nary a scratch on his body. People across the earth have speculated that he’s a demon, or contracted with a demon, or one of the acolytes of the Blood God like the Blade. He likes to collect these epithets and rumors; when his crows perch on his shoulder to recount the news of the land or messages from his allies they update him on the tales they tell of the angel. They’re all wrong, in the end. Death herself graced him with her favor long ago to act as her representative on the mortal plane.

She’s been dormant recently; her absences had never affected him so strongly before, but ever since he’s entered this land, he’s felt weaker, more fragile. He watched his son destroy the country he founded with a haze across his vision, and then he killed his own son, and the act of it didn’t register until days later. Months fly by in a blur and the only person who can enforce any sort of focus is the Blade and so that simmering anger became his own and it fed into his own pain. There was something rotting in the land and it killed his son and he felt it his duty to purge it with the same TNT that destroyed his wings. He doesn’t regret it.

Today, he finds some measure of peace in building his training room. His son is back and everything is not-quite-broken and his body still aches.

—

Wednesday:

There are too many variables, too many uncertainties. He’s placed his fingerprints on too many projects and lives, and the guilt of his cooperation and his associations claws at his lungs. Dream, neutrality in the midst of war, Dream and his prison and the damned prison rules, Quackity, Las Nevadas. He doesn’t know what he considers his worst fuck-up: Tommy’s death, the torture he’d permitted in his collaboration with Las Nevadas, his betrayal of Ponk’s love and trust, or his inability to save anyone during the banquet.

The hotel stands as a testament to his failure to protect the youngest resident of the land. He plans detours around that plot whenever he travels between the bank and the prison; the little robot stationed by the hotel tells him the boy doesn’t come by anymore, and he knows automatons don’t feel emotions, but he grieves for it anyway. He sees his valentine walking along the wooden pathways and his heart aches to see the damage he had caused. He checks the prison’s security footage and he tells himself guilt has no place in his heart for what happened. He’s surprised the captain and the god and all the rest of the banquet victims still talk to him. But they do, and it gives him hope. His friends are back and free and even though one of them is trying to start a little scuffle with a god, today he’s having fun throwing weednip around and sliding down the pyramid with his closest friends.

The present’s a gift, and he intends on cherishing this moment.

—

Thursday:

He’s building a pub because Wilbur owes him a pint. He knows that man can’t be completely trusted, not now. Not since he died by his crossbow. But it feels good to be acknowledged as someone worth an apology, someone important. He has been abandoned and pushed aside and pushed into lava pits and into hell all within the span of a few months. No one cared. He hates it, he hates the way he’s been made irrelevant and a shadow of his friends’ stories. Even his plans for revenge had been inconsequential, unfruitful: the boy had lived and his accomplice had left him to brood in his own anger.

He’s held his grudges close to his heart and he’s let them fester and he won’t admit he’s tired of it all. If he lets go, then it all disappears and he’s really, truly dead, and if this is his afterlife, if all he can do is lag after the people he cares for, then it’s a fucking shit deal. So today, he’s continuing his work on the pub because he burned down his own home and because the hotel feels too sterile and empty, because he wants to have a space built with his own two hands where he can speak and someone will finally, finally listen. It’s not quite moving on. He’ll take it anyway.

—

Friday:

She tries to live by the code of kindness and reciprocity; that’s how she lived on the high seas of her youth, or so she suspects, based on the journal she found at the site of the shipwreck. Since the day she joined this land, she has made friends and found love and taken the young residents under her wing and vowed to fight against evil. She gives stacks of items to those who need them and she fixes up the holes in the road and offers therapy on difficult days.

The world isn’t as kind as she is. A country was erased from the map for grudges she still doesn’t understand, and no one will tell her the why discs, of all things, are so important. Two boys would have lost their lives to a monster she housed, had it not been for the money Tommy paid a mercenary for his aid. She mourned the loss of Tommy’s life as she fought to keep the hotel in his name, and when he requested therapy upon his resurrection, she was horrified at the effects of trauma he’d exhibited. The friends she’d tried to pull out of the Egg’s influence celebrated a young boy’s death and killed her son. And now this man has taken her friend’s turtle hostage for no reason she can comprehend.

She’s tired. She’s breaking; they’d presumed her kindness was a weakness and maybe it is. Today, she plans on destroying the red menace on the edge of her son’s land. It’s her turn.

—

Saturday:

He’s not sure how many sandstone blocks he’s carved out of the desert at this point, nor how many quartz chips and gold nuggets he’s pulled out of the Netherworld. The villagers know him by name and chat with him when he stops by to trade for emeralds and other goods. His hands bleed gold ichor from the opened blisters dotting his hands, and burns line the edges of his fingertips. Lately, his whole world is rushing by in colors of beige and yellow, green and white and blue. The color red started it, the scramble to build more and more—and it stopped it too, if only for a little while. Ponk asked him for permission to build on his land, told him it was a gift: a peace offering and an apology and a new beginning. It’s a silly build and it doesn’t match the aesthetic of the rest of his summer home, but it warmed his heart, to see the giant red refrigerator rising up from the top of the sand dunes for the first time. Ponk built it just for him. Quackity told him he was alone, and that he didn’t matter if he didn’t assert his powers like he did in the past, and he was wrong. Ponk stays, loves him for who he is now and not for the destruction he wrought.

He doesn’t know what to do now; his father destroyed the build for some grudge she holds against his friend, and he’s exhausted. He’s tired of being pulled into conflict. A vacation from all the tension occurring on his land would not be unwarranted, at this point—a few days, a week. It sounds relaxing—and he’ll do it, he’ll take a vacation, and he’ll tell Ponk that he’s in charge of the summer home later today. He has some packing to do.

—

Sunday:

He likes to splash around the pools and fountains in Las Nevadas when he has to visit. Sometimes he’ll climb up the needle and lean on the bannisters to feel the fresh air ruffling his hair and he thinks about jumping—the air turns hot and stale and the ground burbles up in orange and red—but his brother pulls him out of it, usually. Otherwise the place is boring. He’s not allowed in the gambling den or the club, so he hovers around the forests away from Las Nevadas when Wilbur and Quackity want to speak alone.

Today is one of those days. It’s fine by him; dealing with the two of them together makes him uncomfortable, with the way they push and pull him to their sides. The cigarette smoke lingering on their breaths remind him of the ravine, the explosions from the first war-second -Logstedshire-doomsday-nukes-prison. He’s escaped, for now. The air of the forest is crisp; he can spot flowers in the meadow ahead and he plucks them to form a careless bouquet. Alliums, lilies-of-the-valley, daisies; poppies and cornflowers and dandelions. He threads them together to form crowns and rings, places one on his head and cradles the rest to his chest to stash at home. It’s been a while since he’s made them; before he moved to this land he’d make them for his brother and his brother’s father, the dogs and cows and sheep around the farm. He feels like a child again and his lips twist at the bittersweetness. He’s found himself a bubble and soon Wilbur will barge his way in to speak of his loyalties and Dream and whatever the fuck he’s stormed up with Quackity, but for now, he’ll pick flowers and make chains and chains and chains that, for once, won’t drag him down.

—

  Monday’s child is fair of face.

Tuesday’s child is full of grace.

Wednesday’s child is full of woe.

Thursday’s child has far to go.

Fridays’ child is loving and giving.

Saturday’s child works hard for a living.

And the child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe, good and gay.

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff. 

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

.............................................................

The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son. 

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached. 

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen. 

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back. 

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you. 

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress. 

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant. 

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around. 

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.” 

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.” 

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?” 

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber. 

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view. 

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.” 

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal. 

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand. 

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip. 

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him. 

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.” 

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?” 

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.” 

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.” 

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.” 

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-” 

“Mom?!”  A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not. 

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses. 

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you? 

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck. 

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage. 

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice. 

“Everything you knew about my brother.” 

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.” 

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son. 

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?” 

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside. 

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage. 

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.” 

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.” 

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.” 

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?” 

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

[crowthecorbeau]

Floating Mountains Farming Guide

reagents found here - color on map ~ number found (typically)

   Sandstone            -       Red         ~     2

   Lava Lily               -       Yellow     ~     1-2

   Ore                         -       Blue        ~     1-2

   Red Mandrake      -       Purple    ~     1-2

   Frost Flower         -       White      ~     1

My Route (to hit all spawns):

I tend to start at Isla Nevada and zip to Isla Major, sticking to the left side as I run to Isla Bonita. I then go from there across the bridges to Isla Tormenta, turning left to grab the sandstone. Then I go down across the river and grab the ore by the pond, which is there every run, and circle through Isla Del Fuego before switching realms and doing it in the reverse order.

Notes:

- usually, one of the two sandstones will spawn on Isla Del Fuego and the other one will spawn on either Isla Bonita or Isla Tormenta, since Isla Major seems to be a rarer spawn

- silver chests will often spawn in the forested area by the Red Mandrakes on Isla Bonita, and wooden chests can spawn on any of the other islands, most commonly on Isla Del Fuego or Isla Tormenta

Related

*other good places to find sandstone include Kondha Desert in Khrysalis and Stonetown in Zafaria, but those areas are often more crowded, making up for the longer run time of Floating Mountains

*a commonly overlooked place to farm stone block and ore is Dragonspyre Academy, which has a run time of almost exactly 30 seconds per realm, and has a decent amount of rare harvests (highly recommend for diamond farming since the Atheneum is competetive)

*by using teleporters and leaving X’s, another good farming route in Azteca is from the Zocalo to a circuit through Three Points and Mangrove Marsh, which gives a good balance of agave leaves, red mandrake, black lotus, and stone blocks, and is really convenient for gathering for the Transcendent Crafter quest if you grab turquoise from the silver chests in the Zocalo

Other:

- Eloise’s flower for this area is on the southern side of Isla Del Fuego by the fake plants (NOT the agave leaves, but the other plants, If you’re looking for real agave leaves check Mangrove Marsh)

- Professor Zeke’s UFO is on the southeastern side of Isla Tormenta right under the top left corner of its label on the map

- If you’re questing through Twin Giants, it’s a great place to collect stone blocks and ore along the way

Happy Farming!

[letterboxd]

Beautiful Day: The Don Hertzfeldt Q&A.

In which the singular creator of It’s Such a Beautiful Day and the World of Tomorrow trilogy answers 57 questions put to him by the Letterboxd community, about death, gills, snacks, back flips, the best time of day to watch a movie, and the sick pleasure of emotionally destroying people.

Since his first animated outings in the 1990s, filmmaker Don Hertzfeldt has had a way of staring deeply into humanity’s soul via a humble stick figure, and his skill at blending existential questions with situational humor breeds intense reactions. To browse Letterboxd reviews of Hertzfeldt’s animated works is to meet film lovers at a rare, collective gathering point: heaping great piles of love for films that do “the exact opposite of helping with depression”.

There’s something optimistically anti-feel-good in Hertzfeldt’s works; a bleak view of the future, and a frank appreciation of death’s inevitability, that makes viewers urgently want to fix the way they’re living right now. “I’ve built a lot of my life philosophy on the messages of this film,” writes Misty, of his acclaimed It’s Such a Beautiful Day. “It has kicked my ass completely,” writes Dirk of the first, Oscar-nominated World of Tomorrow instalment, “making me angry at myself for letting trivial stuff take over things I love and making me happy I have so very, very much in my life to enjoy and be grateful for.”

The filmmaker’s magic lies as much in the process as the content: “Hertzfeldt is able to make every moment count,” writes Artpig, of the second WoT instalment, The Burden of Other People’s Thoughts, “every line of dialogue, every moment of silence, every note of music, every line of animation.” The World of Tomorrow films, says animation expert Toussaint Egan in our Letterboxd Show animation episode, are “some of the best science fiction films, period”.

And his timing. Oh, his timing. Just as the northern hemisphere days were turning cold, and the drawn-out misery of the pandemic was really taking hold all over again, Hertzfeldt tweeted:

WORLD OF TOMORROW EPISODE THREE everywhere october 9 5pm est 🚀

— don hertzfeldt (@donhertzfeldt)

October 8, 2020

And like that, World of Tomorrow Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime was ours, an overnight gift to the quarantined and bereaved-weary, on Vimeo for all to rent or own. The gifts, they keep coming: a master list of movies that have their fingerprints on the World of Tomorrow universe, and now, in recognition of our community’s love for his films—and in his signature lower-case—the answers to questions asked in an exclusive Letterboxd Q&A.

To make things easier for Don, we grouped similar questions (and have noted which members asked what). Read on for more than you ever thought you might get to know about Hertzfeldt’s process, brain, heart and influences.

Filmmaker Don Hertzfeldt.

From “holograms that yell at you!” to the stunning colors, textures and folds of the blue mountains, to attributes David progressively deletes to make room for memories, would you please give us an insight into World of Tomorrow Three’s world-building process? —Letterboxd in the grand scheme of the series, episodes one and two still felt like baby steps to me. episode three was my first chance to really start blowing things up and exploring this universe. when i’m writing, i don’t want to worry about going over the top or think about structure or meaning or really much of anything yet. writing is playtime, it should be fun and messy. i want to go over the top. there is no top. i don’t want to start thinking too much until i’m rewriting and sorting through it all. thinking too much too soon can get in the way, like being too aware of when you’re trying to fall asleep. when you write a diary entry or a text to a friend, there’s no self-consciousness or creative blocks, you just write. it’s casual and fluid and automatic. but if you’re asked to write a term paper or a screenplay, suddenly all those lights turn off. it can be paralyzing. it’s hard to get to that place of truly not caring what anyone thinks and approach all forms of writing just as freely as writing those immediate thoughts in your diary. but that’s what i try to do.

When you start writing a new piece, do you usually start with a plot idea, a thematic idea, one uniform philosophical notion, or a little bit of each? —Kodiak J. Sanders, Trenz, Mr. Tables i don’t think i ever write in a straight line. i’ll jot down a hundred stray ideas over time, and one day i’ll sit down and see what connections might be made out of them. i really want this scene to be in the movie, so how do i get there? this is a good line, how can i get a character to say it? so the actual story usually only starts to reveal itself when i sit down to logic all these bits and pieces out. hey, in order to connect this strange idea to that strange idea, suddenly there is a very interesting third scene.

I’m astounded by how much the animation and the visuals improve with each instalment of World of Tomorrow. What have you done differently for each one? —Aske Lund, Cringetacular the characters needed to physically perform a lot more in episodes two and three so there were more demands put on the animation. when emily 4 dances or david staggers up a mountain, those sorts of scenes were animated in “ones”, which means doing 24 drawings per second versus my usual twelve. it’s still all 2D hand animation, just more of a classic disney approach that gives the movement a smoother look and a little more room for nuance. and obviously it takes a lot more work. but i hesitate to call such things improvements because i’m not sure i like the idea of different techniques being thought of as good or bad. it’s just another way of doing things. it really depends, sometimes super limited animation can be more effective.

Likewise, Part Three’s sound design is incredible. What conditions did you create it in, and what are all those sounds, and how do you have such an incredible command of the cut-to-silence trick?! —Letterboxd thanks, the sound design is always my favorite thing to do. other than julia’s lines, it’s easy to forget that all the animation starts with dead silence. obviously there’s no sound coming from a live-action set. so adding sound and music to everything, usually pretty late in production, is when all the stuff i’ve been working on suddenly starts to feel like an actual movie. this is not a future that works very well—particularly david’s, which predates everything else we’ve seen so far by a century or two—so you’re hearing a lot of creaky old hard drives booting up, electric distortions, and bent circuits from broken toys.

Emily and Emily Prime in a still from ‘World of Tomorrow’ (2015).

World of Tomorrow used to fill me with existential dread, but now with the current state of the world it’s become more and more comforting in a strange way. Do you feel that at all as you make new episodes? —mariano gg i wish that were possible but when i’m making something i’m usually so close to it i’m unable to see anything but all the things i need to fix.

Can you talk a little bit about sourcing the photo-realistic images for the backgrounds in Part Three? —Jack Moulton most of the environments were 2D images i built in photoshop, usually starting from close-up photos of different textures (like sandstone), all sort of reshaped and puzzle-pieced into something new. an easy to see example was david’s cockpit, which was cobbled together from all sorts of different old aircraft engine and machine parts. the trick in building and lighting these locations was always figuring out where the line was drawn in making these places realistic, but not too realistic for minimal characters to inhabit. i kept landing on a sort of painterly looking middle ground.

If the cloning process in World of Tomorrow existed right now, would you go through that process and create clones of yourself to prolong your life? —tim probably not, that process doesn’t seem to work so well.

If you were put into the world you’ve created, would you buy gills? —Lauren Torres i tend to avoid putting my head under because i almost always get water in my ears so i guess i wouldn’t need them. gills also seem like they’d be a real nuisance to keep clean.

What does love mean, and why do your characters go through so much effort to find it? —Andrew Michalko oh man.

In this year of years, what do you hope people will understand about death and its inevitability (or is it all there on the screen, and if so, that’s okay too)? —Letterboxd understanding death and its inevitability is maybe the most valuable thing a person can do for themselves.

Was the absence of Emily Prime in Part Three a practical decision [Don’s then-four-year-old niece Winona provided Emily’s voice] or an intentional departure from the first two films? —Michael it was both. i couldn’t find a way to fit her in naturally and i also felt like the series needed to start growing in other directions and not rest on the past. episode two had also been really difficult to write, it was so reliant on winona’s recordings, and it felt like the dam was really broken when i was finally able to write without any restrictions this time.

In a series like World of Tomorrow, where you headed in a direction that is a lot more plot-driven than your previous work, how far in advance do you plan? Did you always know this was in David’s past, or are these stories told one at a time? —Ryan Welch, Kodiak J. Sanders, julius, Alex Leon i could tell early on that this wasn’t a story like it’s such a beautiful day with a clear beginning, middle and end, but a much wilder thing that could continue to grow. the openness of it is still what makes it so interesting to me. i have all sorts of notes for the next episodes but if i already knew what would happen in episode nine i think that would take a lot of the air out of the tires and i’d start to feel like i was just connecting the boring dots. while writing, i’ve also had to be aware that there someday might be an episode nine so i can’t go wrecking the timelines before i get there.

What were the rocks and the gas pump that Emily fell in love with meant to represent? —Ekaneff she was learning how to love, and like all of us, in her youth she gravitated to a bunch of individuals that were wrong for her.

Aside from the ability to release more frequently, is there something about the episodic structure that you prefer/appreciate, as opposed to creating one larger feature-length film? —SiddFinch1 there’s just more freedom. the traditional running time of a feature film, 90 to 120 minutes, is a totally arbitrary number.

Have you ever considered writing a World of Tomorrow book or graphic novel? —Jay Smith the earliest ideas for world of tomorrow were sloshing around in a graphic novel called the end of the world that came out in 2013. but i don’t have any talent or much confidence in making another book like that. it’s a different world. when i look at someone like chris ware and then look at something like the end of the world, it’s like, “wow, baby made a mess”.

A page from Don Hertzfeldt’s graphic novel, ‘The End of the World’ (2013).

What attracted you to the unique style [of minimalist stick figures]? Is there a sense of intimacy that you feel you can achieve with this simplicity? —Evan Whitford when i was little, before i wanted to make movies i wanted to be a newspaper cartoonist. i think my drawings today might have more in common with newspaper comics than the sort of characters you usually see in animation. comic-strip panels were always composed in a very reserved way because they were generally intended to be skimmed. you needed to be able to read the strip in five seconds so you could be off to read the sports pages and obituaries. the comics pages were also under constant size and space restrictions. so they were minimal by design and the artists reduced their characters to only their most essential parts. there was no room for fussing. charles schulz said “i only draw what’s necessary”. and that’s actually incredibly hard to do. you’re accomplishing so much more with so much less.

i’ve also found that if there’s a scene that’s not playing right and bothering me, most of the time it’s because my composition was too cluttered. i almost always find myself removing things from the frame and trying to pare it down to only what’s necessary. very rarely do i ever think ‘i need to add more stuff in here’. because this shot is only five seconds long and i want you to be looking over here when this moment happens and this character says something, and if you’re distracted by this other flickering junk i put in the corner it’s going to throw everything off.

Animation-aside, which creative medium do you resonate with the most? —Bronkdan music.

How much did you pull from real-life experiences to make It’s Such A Beautiful Day, if any? What research did you conduct into memory? —Gunnar Sizemore, David Sigura, Micah Smith whenever i got a little stuck writing it’s such a beautiful day, i’d go back and reread my journal and pull more things out of it. dreams, conversations, small scenes. reading the journal now, it seems like i stole something from it every few pages. i also heavily researched neurological problems. it’s never said in the movie what exactly’s going on with bill, but i needed there to be a real diagnosis to base the medical writing on. so all the things he’s going through are real treatments or symptoms based on an actual condition. i didn’t want to ever come out and say, “he’s got terminal brain clouds”, or whatever in the movie, because then it becomes a “brain-cloud movie”, and that’s too easy for the audience to compartmentalize and distance themselves from… “brain clouds are so rare, that will never happen to me”. but not being told exactly what’s wrong with bill might help make the story more relatable and universal.

In what ways have you kept your mind fresh creatively? How do you keep yourself from slipping into complacency? —Watchmoviez, Drew’s reviews most creative blocks or stagnation come from anxiety, second-guessing and doubt. over the years i’ve learned to just sort of calm down and trust myself more. it’s like the old aesop fable: when you stop thrashing around in the water, the water becomes clearer and you can see more. if a scene isn’t working right, i can more easily chill out about it these days and trust that i’ll eventually figure it out—because i’ve figured these sorts of things out a hundred times before and i know by now that i’m not the sort of person who’s just going to allow a scene that isn’t working to remain in the movie. there’s a little more panic about that sort of thing when you’re young: “oh no, the movie sucks right now, will it always suck?!” i’ve reached the point where i know that i will not let it suck. and that sort of thinking allows all the movie gears to turn more easily.

Do you have a specific thematic, emotional or other miscellaneous motive in mind when including classical music pieces? —James Y. Lee when i’m listening to music and suddenly the right piece arrives, it’s usually blindingly obvious to me: there’s just no doubt this needs to be in the movie somehow. it’s like the idea has always existed and i’ve just finally uncovered it. it’s the same with writing. when the right thing floats along, it is striking and obvious and into the pile of notes it goes.

How much of your animation style lends itself to experimentation, such as discovering new tricks and pretty shots, that is then discarded if you learn it doesn’t work as intended? —Adam, Jacob i think i’m always experimenting. i figure if it doesn’t work, at least i’ve learned something.

What is the strangest compliment or critique you’ve gotten personally or of your work? —Elliot Taylor i’ve always remembered this one. i am so proud of you came out a couple years after everything will be ok. it was a continuation of that story, so it was basically the first time i had ever made a sequel. and everything will be ok had done really well when it came out. it won sundance and got all these great reviews. so i am so proud of you comes out and i remember reading this review that says, “everything will be ok was probably my favorite animated short of all time. it honestly changed my life. it was funny, sad, beautiful and just so wonderful. everything will be ok, boy did i love it. incredible. two thumbs up. truly, best thing ever. wow. so, unfortunately, its sequel, i am so proud of you, just feels like more of the same.”

A still image from ‘It’s Such a Beautiful Day’ (2012).

Are there any pieces of fiction that have influenced your work that we probably wouldn’t think of? —Gyani Wasp, Mikolaj Perzyna, Aaron McMillan, Harrison, Axel, Cringetacular, The25centman, Hunter Guidry one thing that pops to mind is the phantom tollbooth. my favorite children’s books were the ones with all the fun metaphors and clever wordplay. when i was plotting out episode two i wanted to lean into that, where visiting different sections of emily’s brain would be like milo visiting the land of math, the land of letters, the land of sound, with different looks and logic to it. so we had the bog of realism, glimmers of hope, broken memories, the logic center, and all the stuff in triangle land and square land. i guess that’s a lot but i wish there had been a bit more.

How did your friends and family respond to the “my anus is bleeding” part of Rejected? —Alex Tatterson they were pretty used to me by then.

Do you know of the work of David Firth, the internet animator? His work is also surreal and has dark humor, but more sinister than whimsical. Would you ever consider making an animation in the realm of horror in future? —KEVIИ HДWKIИS i’m afraid i don’t know him. i’d love to make a horror movie. from a certain point of view though maybe it could be argued that most everything i’ve made is a sort of horror movie?

My first tattoo is of Billy from Billy’s Balloon hanging from his ankle and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. How do you feel about people having your work tattooed and do you have any ink from other creatives that have meant something to you? —Elias it really fucking enrages me when people get my stuff tattooed on them. no just kidding. mostly i feel embarrassed but i’m glad you haven’t changed your mind about it yet. sometimes i wonder how many people have.

Have you ever thought about directing live action? —Abeer, Noah Thompson yes.

Is there an update on your feature film Antarctica? —Rylan California it’s one of many things swirling around.

Will you do a remake of Robocop and why not next year? —Simon no, because robocop is already sort of perfect.

Do you ever see yourself directing a large studio film? Or working with a large team to make something with a higher budget, maybe through a crowd-funded project? Or do you just strongly prefer working on your own? —Vteyshev, Monotone Duck sure. i’ve never preferred working on my own at all. it was usually just the only way to ever get anything made. i haven’t had the funding to pay a big crew, or really much of a crew at all. there’s the old saying: you can make something good, you can make it fast, and you can make it cheap, but you can only pick two. if you make it good and fast it won’t be cheap, if you make it cheap and fast it won’t be good, etc. so my only route in hoping to make something good and cheap has been to totally forget about making it fast.

What did you find digital animation added or took away from your work, and what did those changes do for your storytelling? Will you continue using the digital medium when/if you decide to move on from the World of Tomorrow project? —Alec Lai, Slipkornbizkit, Aldo digital just sped everything up. it’s still one person drawing everything, so we need to remember that speed is relative here, but i felt like i went from riding a bicycle to driving a car. there are many pleasant, wonderful things about riding a bicycle but you’re not going to get anywhere very quickly. and i’m not in my 20s anymore, in fact my 20s and 30s were mostly entirely devoured by making movies in what was maybe the slowest way possible. so these days i am appreciating the speed of digital.

If you could have a conversation with any filmmaker, dead or alive, who would it be and why? —ToBeHonest, Cringetacular if i could resurrect one of my heroes from the dead i think i would feel terrible wasting his time forcing him to have a conversation with me. he might also just sit there, covered with graveyard dirt, screaming in horror.

What is the best time of day to watch a movie? —Sammy night. i always feel a little nuts coming out of a movie and the sun is still up.

What’s your all-time favorite science-fiction film, and why? —Letterboxd 2001. because come on.

What is your favorite of Julia Potts’ films, and why? —Letterboxd i like the one with the severed foot.

Are there any animated films that you felt had a profound impact on you as a child? —Sprizzle probably fantasia. and ray harryhausen stuff. whenever there was a sunday-afternoon movie on TV, my brother and i learned that if in the opening titles there was a credit for “special effects” we should keep watching because we might eventually see something cool.

Which one of your movies is your personal favorite? —Jakob Böwer, RodrigoJerez i don’t know. sometimes it’s the newest one because it’s usually the one with the most experience behind it and therefore feels like it has the fewest mistakes. but then over time i realize they’re all riddled with mistakes. of the it’s such a beautiful day pieces, i think my favorite has always been i am so proud of you. and then i’ll see reviews that say “clearly the second chapter is the weakest one”, and i’ll think, man you guys don’t know what you’re talking about.

One of Don’s layout sketches for ‘I Am So Proud of You’ (2008).

What’s your favorite Pixar film? —Jordan inside out.

What film would you want to be the last one you watch before you die? —Gavin honestly if i’m in the process of dying i hope i won’t be watching movies at all.

Do you have faith in humanity? —Connor Kriechbaum not often.

What is something that worries you about where humankind is headed? —Felix_Bouchard social media.

What is the most valuable thing you have ever lost? How often do you think about it? —Siminup well now i’m getting sad.

Can you do a back flip, mister Don? —Doug maybe with the help of a catapult.

What is your take on the after life? What do you think happens to us when we die? —Luisdecoss i guess that it’s probably a lot like our memory of what the year 1823 was like.

Do you want anything from McDonald’s? —Andrew Rhyne only if i’m in an airport and desperate.

What’s your favorite meal or snack? —Pfitzerone, Evan lately in quarantine i’ve been discovering this particular breakfast burrito.

How’s your quarantine life, Don? —Ivan Arcena it’s okay thanks. eating lots of breakfast burritos.

Hi! I can’t believe you’re going to read this. I am currently filled with an unparalleled amount of joy, wow. This is a long shot but here I go. I’m 17 and your (self-proclaimed) biggest fan. I’ve seen It's Such a Beautiful Day eight times now and every single time I pick up on more details. I’ve watched a few of your interviews and in the AFS one about Rejected you said that the louder you play a movie, the funnier it is. On my seventh watch of It’s Such a Beautiful Day I hooked my laptop up to three huge speakers and I must say—you were so, so right. I made a video essay about the movie. Lol, I’m not sure if this will get to you but Michael Jordan once said something about missing shots or not taking shots or maybe about tequila, I am unsure but I know it was important. Thanks MJ. Not you, Mr Jackson. I’m sorry Ms. Jackson…

I actually do have a question, sorry about the rambling. Every single time I watch the guy at the payphone flip his pencil and go “fantastic, fantastic” I cry. And I think what really does it for me is that “we’ll finally have our day”. Earlier in the movie, Bill’s co-worker talks about how all of time is happening at once. So what I constantly ask myself is if the guy at the payphone is simultaneously having his day and waiting for it. And I’m no longer speaking to that one specific example or even to the movie as a whole but I guess I’m wondering if the idea of all events happening at once comforts you?

In Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut writes: “The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.” When I read this I immediately thought about your movie. I think the idea of all of time happening at once makes all of life feel less important but more special. You know? Anyway, I suppose I’d just like to know what inspired the lines about time in the office scene. This isn’t much of a question, more an incoherent ramble but thank you so, so much for all you’ve done. I feel so incredibly inspired and so deeply moved by your work and I know that so many people in this comment section and around the world would agree. I can’t believe I’ve been given the opportunity to ask something. It really is such a beautiful day. :) —Eli Osei (co-signed by Vooder) that old guy at the payphone was someone i saw at the laundromat once and he borrowed my pencil and the whole thing just played out like in the movie. i just thought it was such a perfect little scene that i’d just witnessed. anyway, the idea of time being a landscape and everything taking place “at once” just came straight out of a science magazine. i don’t know how, but apparently it’s been more or less proven to be true? we perceive time in one direction, but the past and the future are always all around us. think of it as though we’re driving our car through a landscape. even though the mountains we saw ten minutes ago are behind us now, it doesn’t mean those mountains have ceased to exist. they’ve only ceased to exist from our point of view. we’ve only just driven past them. the mountains, like your childhood, are still going on back there. anyway, i had never heard of that before and thought it needed to be in a movie.

A still from ‘World of Tomorrow Episode Two: The Burden of Other People’s Thoughts’ (2017).

Are you a fan of Kurt Vonnegut by any chance? It may be coincidental, but I love how you both utilize science-fiction settings and concepts like being “unstuck from time/memory” to explore the human condition. I feel his writing and your animation are both capable of making me laugh wholeheartedly one minute and weeping genuine, sorrowful tears the next. —Vooder i’m embarrassed to say i’ve never read him and i’m told on a regular basis that i should. that all started after i am so proud of you came out with those discussions about time being a landscape. but i almost only ever read non-fiction. it’s a long story. but now i’m almost afraid to ever read vonnegut after all these years of build-up.

Hey Don, this is really cool. I don’t have as much of a question, more of a comment. It’s Such A Beautiful Day has gotten me through a lot of hard times, being in middle school sucks, I think everyone knows that: and your movie has made life just a wee bit better for me. It also gave me the inspiration and motivation to finish my first feature! Thanks lots. Love from Indiana —Blood Mountain: Experimental Cinema <3 hey thank you. yeah middle school was pretty much the deepest pit of hell. there’s this old saying, “if you find yourself in hell, keep going”. and i’ve never understood that saying. “keep going”, because, i guess, you can always just go deeper into hell?

Hi! Has the vitreous humour in your eyes started to deteriorate and have you experienced floaters within your eyeballs? If not, that’s okay. Just remember it’s part of life, so don’t get scared when it happens! Just keep moving on! But if you do have them, follow-up question: Do you think it’s funny that the body of vitreous fluid that allows your sight to be clear is called the vitreous humour, and when it detaches it’s anything but humorous? I find that pretty humorous myself, in, like, an ironic way. —Clbert1 i actually blew a blood vessel in my eye a couple weeks ago and the whole thing turned bright blood red. it didn’t hurt or anything, i just walked into the room all disgusting and my girlfriend was like, “what the fuck?!” and then the next day i had further weird eye problems. i just went to the eye doctor yesterday. i think i will be fine but i was thinking, wouldn’t it be like the most heavy metal thing ever for my biography if i just suddenly went BLIND? “and then in 2020, HE WENT BLIND.”

Will Intro ever be released to the general public outside of theater screenings? —Melissa okay yes you’ve talked me into it. on that note, i noticed that the poster of intro used on letterboxd is a weird fake and i’m not sure where it came from. someone just used a picture from rejected. if fake posters are to be made i would prefer it if they used a picture from raiders of the lost ark or something.

Do you have plans to combine the World of Tomorrow shorts into one feature-length film à la It’s Such a Beautiful Day? —David Sigura, Sam Stewart, An_Person no, it’s going to be much longer than a feature-length.

Will we ever get a ‘Hertzfeldt 4K Collection’? Or at least a Blu-ray with It’s Such a Beautiful Day and all episodes of World of Tomorrow? —Teebin, HippityHoppity there is actually already a blu-ray for it’s such a beautiful day. up next we’ll do some sort of world of tomorrow blu-ray of the first three episodes. but 4k is too many k’s. you don’t need that many k’s.

Would you ever consider comprising an OST album of all the songs you used and mixed from your films? —PhiloDemon i don’t think so. i read that for many years cat stevens resisted releasing his original songs from harold and maude on any records because he thought they were more special if you could only ever hear them in the movie. i like that.

Do you get a sick kind of pleasure from emotionally destroying people with your movies? —MaxT26 yep.

What’s been your ongoing experience of the outpouring of joy and love of your work? —Henry gratitude. how sad for me if, after all this work, nobody was watching at all.

Related content

Don’s invaluable Twitter thread about “old-school animation camera stuff”

A Few of the Fingerprints on the World of Tomorrow Universe: a list of influences curated for Letterboxd by Don Hertzfeldt

Modest Heroes: the Letterboxd Showdown for indie animation

The Drawn Cinema: Analena’s list of rough animation, pencil textures, watercolor effects, dynamic brushes and other poetic artistry.

Beloved Indie Animation: a list by Gui

Animated Sci-Fi and Fantasy: an extensive list by Stonefolk

‘World of Tomorrow Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime’ is available now through Bitter Films on Vimeo.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Corona Wintersleep, in fairy robes; Is she hiding to avoid her family, or just people annoying? You may not get an answer, because this is the comic relief episode.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 5 -  Do Not Wait 5/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

menton of death and/or casual drug use

After the Battle in Celticia, Meriam had some nice peaceful years with her family. Feon and Edmond gave her a lot to think about, including the value of her daughter, husband and nephew. She felt lucky to be queen, and use magic peacefully, and watch over the magic forest city she had made with the Raven Gate. The harvests where good, and Francia retreated from the east boarder for the winter. Anglia enjoyed finally being safe at every other boarder. Yet, Meriam lusted for more; she wanted another adventure, and more allies. She suspected Francia may be bribing the Eastern and Southern nations, to aid in conquest; or reap their land. It was almost too quiet this season. Then one day, at a court meeting, the scribe translator read a letter from the Far South: Hispania. Hispania was so far away from the rest of Ealden Cynedom, that people knew nothing about it. All except Meriam, who read about a specific type of mage in one of Feon’s journals, and that the main magic forest in Hispania, belonged to the Fairy Gate. The thought of undiscovered magical scenery, gave her wanderlust once more.

           The Letter said that Hispania had fallen into civil unrest, as families instead of governments, tried to acquire mages to rise to power. Currently there was no consolidated government, causing the balance around the Fairy Gate to fall into corrupt hands. The Far South of Hispania had no care for the politics of other lands, and instead wanted advice; They had heard marvelous stories about the mage queen of the Grand West. And one family decided to contact her.

But Meriam’s king husband, and the other court members, had no interest in the Far South. It was a month’s journey away, and provided no trade or threat. But these things are meaningless to a mage. Outside her window, the Raven Gate was visible in the square. Meriam could travel alone through the shadow veil, to the Fairy Gate, all by herself. Time and distance were malleable in the veil, and mages could use gates, like fey, to travel between magic forests. But Meriam needed to know if the Fairy Gate was open, because if it was, that meant there was a mage. The men around Meriam rolled their eyes, as she rose her hand to hear the rest of the message.

“Our mage is a fair lady, unlike her kin. There are white marks about her wrists, and a heart with a sword marked on her chest. She is a mage that can heal with compassion; If only she could love. Her name is Corona Wintersleapen. She was bred and possessed by her family for power, and then ran away to the peak of the city. Inside the mouth of the halved mountain, is a lush jungle of wonder around the iced Fairy Gate. Corona’s darkened heart needs to be healed, so the city can prosper. She must belong to no one, and stop harming anyone who attempts to reach her. The city needs to access, coexist, and expand into the enchanted jungle. We believe your queen’s power, and achievements, make her the best person for the job.” The Messenger said. The translator gave a brief summery.  Then there was a bump under the table. Meriam and the king looked under, and Eatheltwein, their nephew, was eavesdropping on the courts with his canary.

“Eatheltwein Cynedom, we talked about this. You should be studying literature, not joining our table. I know you wish to be included as you enter manhood, but this is not your time. Off with you.” The King demanded. Eatheltwein slinked off like a scared dog. Leaving the court embarrassed and the messenger, scribe, and translator very confused.

“I will quickly use the gates to settle this matter. I want to be on good terms with every kingdom. I cannot bring my men, as the pure magic of the shadow veil petrifies commoners in it’s deprivation of the senses. Not to mind the presence of the beast kings. I will go alone in my fairy robes, wielding the unbreakable sword and bow. Care for our daughter and Eathel well.” Meriam said. She stood up and left before anyone could stop her. It had been a long time since she had an adventure; it made her giddy. Meriam almost had a skip to her step as she went to her study; And then she noticed someone was following her…

           Meriam walked into the shadow veil, through the black marble Raven Gate in the square. She entered the serene setting of black, white and grey. As she walked though a rough forest trail, no birds sang, or wind blew. The light almost refracting as it spilled through the canopy. Meriam did not look behind her, nor her familiar Nithen; yet she still sensed she had a follower. The shadow veil was not deterring them... Then Meriam crossed into the plains full of unicorn, and carnivorous mares. Then hiked through the rough terrain of the wolf kingdom, with cats of luck and moonlight, that hid in the brush. Only magic had colour here; fey, fairy robes, magic tools, and the eyes of those who wield it. Nearly at her destination, Meriam crossed a bridge of ice into the Fairy Kingdom, where the frosted trees echoed with the laughter of children, and everything glittered like diamonds and snow. Yet, her pursuer still walked behind her. Is it even a person? Why didn’t the shadow veil deter them?   She thought. As Meriam stood at the foot of a stone circle, engraved with the table of fours, she decided to look behind her. Meriam was taken aback: Eatheltwein stood gleaming with joy, admiring all the fairies, and the soothing atmosphere. This meant two things: firstly, Eathel was now her responsibility, and was in a world of trouble. Secondly, in order to be content in the ether of all magic, he must be a mage. Noticing the confused glare of his aunt, Eatheltwein nervously waved hello.

“Sorry Aunt Merry, the quest just sounded like a lot of fun. I’m tired of talking to trees in the court yard, and reading books about dead men. I Love you, and want to go on an adventure! Also, what is this place? It’s a bit odd isn’t it.” He smiled, looking around innocently.

           Realizing Eatheltwein was a mage, and that his canary was his familiar, Meriam decided to take the opportunity to teach him more magic. Something so powerful must be utilized wisely and safely. Eathel had developed a habit of sneaking into her magic study, and reading her mage journals, this whole time. His little familiar’s name was Viola, and she was quieter than Meriam’s kestrel familiar Nihten. Though a golden canary suited Eatheltwein well; he never shut up, and was very innocent, and showy. When the surprise faded, they all began to take the adventure as an opportunity to bond. With joy, they stepped through the Fairy Gate, and into the Mediterranean heat of Hispania. Eatheltwein coughed; he had come from right from a pleasant and crisp winter in Anglia.

The fairy gate was atop a large, forested, fey infested mountain. It was overlooking a city of white sandstone, painted vibrant colours. The tall houses had tall walls with small iron gates, and where like vibrantly painted stacked children’s blocks. The view in every clearing was spectacular. You could hear music, shouting, and singing echo up the mountain. It sounded like an undying fiesta. In Feon’s book, she said this place was called Torres de Calendulas; Meriam had no clue what that meant, she only knew there was a Meader mage wielding healing love magic here somewhere. If the message she received was accurate.

           Eathel’s company was pleasant. He helped search. There were no trails, just twisted trees with odd leaves, ripe fruit, and large colourful flowers. What odd tree children, they both thought; And so many pretty, shinny, colourful Phoenix’s, minor Roc’s, and cockatrices. There were also many nymphs in the trees, creeks, freshwater springs, and patches of sunlight they passed; yet no people. The magic forest was thick, and toughly filled with fey. The Fairy Gate itself was a wonder made of solid aquamarine, that looked like ice; Yet, it was nothing compared to its forest. As they searched, Meriam and Eatheltwein suddenly walked into a short Indigo cornfield. It gave way to a yard of colourful patches of perfectly square vegetable beds, making a garden in front of a perfectly square spackled house, with a blue roof. On the porch sat a man of tanned skin, and deep eye’s and hair. His hair was curled, and waved into a short low ponytail, and weaved with marigolds of various colours. He wore a loose cotton shirt with a deep neckline, and poofed sleeves, that were embroidered with pinstripes and wild patterns of vibrant colours which matched his tight pants. He was tuning a lute, and humming with the cicadas. Meriam had the most confused look on her face. Between the hallucinogenic fey, perfect garden, and this man’s outfit, she wondered if she had eaten something unusual before she left.

“Eatheltwein, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Meriam asked, in a mildly disturbed way.

“Oh my, It’s not just me! Thank the fjords! I thought I had eaten those mushrooms again…” Eatheltwein sighed. Meriam turned to look at him with a jerk; she made a gesture that suggested she had too many questions to actually ask them.

           Eatheltwein and Meriam were experiencing the special type of embarrassment that comes from walking into a stranger’s house, being offered a myriad of things, and not being sure what the socially acceptable thing to do is. The man talked in a monotone voice, with a slight cheer, and his face expressed no emotion, whilst still encapsulating a polite faux sense of enthusiasm. Like he might be in pain. He switched between old Anglian and old Hispanian, making him nearly incomprehensible. Meriam and Eathel were now eating what was probably chillies filled with cheese, and topped with a fried egg, inside a corn tortilla. The man starred at them with the same expression, while strumming is lute giddily. The unfamiliar notes not forming a coherent melody. They all made uncomfortable distressing prolonged eye-contact. Then the man started smiling. Meriam looked like she was in fear as the strings of melted cheese hung from her mouth and the iron skillet she shared with her nephew. Wait, it’s not iron… its copper?

“How is it dear visitors? I made it with my lady’s fine recipe; with golden goose eggs!” He said with a thick accent, and astrum of him lute. “She is a talented potion maker, and Heartmann mage.” He continued. The last part was in old Hispanian. Meriam started to cry. She had no idea what was going on. She had seen war, but this broke her.

“Aunty Merry, are you ok? I have concluded we actually may have shared some suspicious forest gatherings at the palace. But what luck! I love spending time with you. And to be in one of your adventures; This is fantastic! And this food, whatever it is, is disgusting in a way that makes me keep eating it.” Eatheltwein cheered. Meriam’s crying, now also contained a sort of gagging and laughter. Her mouth was still full of cheese. This was not her finest moment. Worse yet, this cabin bard, who was attending her fever dream, spoke in an incomprehensible fast language, and Meriam could not ask where the Meader mage, Corona, was. Then she recognized the word ‘Heortemann.’ She swallowed, and took some deep breathes, when she realized the walls were covered in paintings, potions, baking trays, and cookware. It was a gingerbread cottage, spackled like confetti cake. Eathel was now examining the large oven at the end of the cottage, and the stairs down to a cellar; Where Meriam began to hear laughter.

           Peering into the dim cellar, like two children looking into a well, Meriam and Ealtheltwein saw two large beautiful fairies, and a woman with platinum hair, amber eyes, white fairy kingdom fair robes, and a marking in black, of a sword in a heart upon her chest. The three cellar occupants looked unblinkingly at Eathel and Meriam.

“You brought mages my love! More friends for our party in our safe little garden!” the female fairy spoke. She matched the second fairy like a twin; though the other fairy was a boy. Their complexions were like ice, and their hair was silver, and eyes that were pale and lustered like aura quartz. Their wings were lilac and periwinkle, and shimmered like their eyes. They wore fairy robes, and had crowns of ice. They looked just like the Fairy King and Queen. Meriam was delighted; Royal Fairies. Fairies make sense! She almost started to tear again.

“Hello, you must be Corona Wintersleapen. Your people need you to stop attacking them, when they go near the magic forest. They fear your introverted nature is caused by your families neglect. But I think your just a mage, and people are mean.” Meriam said. “Also, your two royal friends are radiant, by the way.”

“Nada. I do not attack the people. They just get lost in the forest; the fey lead them back out again. It’s their fault for trying to cut down the tree children, instead of asking politely to be neighbors. If they were nicer, and stopped having children in hopes of bearing mages, their city could become entangled with this forest no problem. And I live happy in my little cottage, with all my true loves. I want nothing to do with tower folk.” Corona spoke. She sounded like a snooty child.

“Miss, this situation is so upsetting to common folk; they cower in fear-” Meriam said. Then she stopped. “Wait, you just don’t want to talk to commoners? It has nothing to do with your family or how close or far away they are?”

“Se” Corona chirped. “I even send them medicine, when the sickness passes time to time.”

“Wait, true love? With all four of you? That is a lot of love… Aunt Merry says you’re a mage that can heal with love; you must make everyone feel better with four times the hugs!” Eatheltwein smiled. “I love romantic stories! Is that why everything is copper and you have so many baking and brewing supplies? To heal people and befriend fairies?” Eathel gleamed. Meriam rolled her eyes.

“We are Earden Faries; royal fey! We came to look for our father, but my sister fell in love with this fine bard! And then I fell in love with this adorable lady! So, we stayed here, instead of returning home with no news of our father. Her shortbreads are wonderful!” the fairy prince said sweetly. Meriam went into seer mode; she covered Eatheltwein’s mouth, to start an interrogation:

“Why were you looking for your father: The Fairy Queen?” She asked.

“Oh, my love can sing that for you! It’s very sad. We taught him to sing it in every tongue.” The fairy princess said.

“I love songs and music! Why I would love a ballad form that fine lads lute!” Eathletwein said.

“No.” Meriam grimaced. “Just tell me. I want to record everything in grotesque detail.” she demanded. The man took his seat, and the fairies hugged his knees, and Corona curled up to keep brewing in the wine cellar. Then the unsettling bard took a deep breath, and started with one strum; and Meriam’s palm, met her face.

Upon the tallest mountain, in the southmost lands; A selfish king did ask a mage for a simple thing.

He held a knife to the mage’s kin, and then began to yell.

Summon me the Raven King; whose song will kill us all.

The armies of the bitter folk, come before my fort. Now have the biggest raven come, and make the men no more.

When the Raven King did come, from his shadowy throne; the Fairy Queen did run away, to stop the bird lord’s song.

Alas too late, the mage summoned him, and the Raven began to plea: “release my mage, my dearest friend and I may sing for thee.”

Forgotten was the darkness, of the king’s new oath; For when the Raven King began to chime, the king and mage began to fall.

The Fairy Queen, though light of foot, could not warn the peoples to flee;

And down came the fort and mountain, and all the fey and trees.

No one lived to tell the tale, of how a mountain halved; to quote the lives of all that died, or witness the beast king’s spell.

The Fairy King did cry, for the loss of her dead love. The Raven King forgiven, but the damage already done.

The lord of birds he cracked his voice, for death he saw as sin; and tells each mage of whom he sees, of what crimes he did commit.

Now that many years have past, and the Gate and Forest remade. The people here will never learn, but at last we’re safe.

           It doesn’t matter how talented a bard is, if the courts don’t care to listen. Meriam got up, broke his lute in a rage, and glared the man with malice.

“No. I am a Queen, a time controlling mage, a wife, and a Mother; I have seen battle, magic, murder, pain, and filth beyond imagination; AND I DON’T WANT TO BE SERENADED BY A HISPANION STALLION COLLECTING FARIES IN A FANTASY MUSHROOM SAMBA.” Meriam cursed. Her dark powerful voice even scared Eatheltwein, who cowered in the oven. The information was fun lore, and it explained the art on the walls. But it would not satisfy Hispania in terms of having good will towards this magic forest; or Anglia. Meriam pulled Eathel out of the oven, and Corona out of the cellar. She brought them to the table to sit, while the royal fairies swooned, and transmuted a new loot for their love, from a broken ladle.

           The most Meriam could do now, was inform Corona that common folk can’t talk to trees, so she would have to be a witch and negotiate the land partitioning between commoners and tree children. Corona hated the idea; that would require leaving the forest and talking to people.

“If you don’t want to talk to people, send your insufferable bard. He’s a special kind of peasant. Small people might find him charming.” Meriam scoffed.

“It’s only until the people who hate fey leave, and the rest accept living aside fairies and phoenixes. My aunt here, made the Raven Gate in the main square of the Capital of Anglia; a magic forest in the biggest city of the Grand West! And all the common people live well from what I’ve seen.” Eathel said with a smile. His sunny aura had begun to comfort and attract Corona. The idea involved her staying away from humans, having fey be safe, and still being able to be a magic healer, and baker, in the woods. The witch in a little cottage of a magic forest. Corona agreed, and offered Eatheltwein a spot in her bed with the bard and fairies. Then gestured at Meriam as well. She considered it, until her eyes met the bard’s; dead eyes. She didn’t trust him.

Meriam took Eathel aside, and warned him to stay away from sketchy offers like that, and they should get home before his uncle realizes he wasn’t becoming literate. Eathel was disappointed; he always wanted to make a pillow fort. Noticing Meriam was becoming short, Eatheltwein said they could tell him he was learning other kingly skills. Meriam argued creepy house, in creepy forest, with a creepy woman, who was asking if they wanted to be the fifth and sixth flower in her vase. Eathel gave up, as he didn’t understand; he was not full grown either. The two of them politely declined Corona’s offer. When she persisted, Eathel gave her his shirt as a distraction, and dashed into the tight twisted vibrant forest. Meriam followed behind, and they started looking for the Fairy Gate to get home.

           Meriam and Eatheltwein started to get trapped in the dense forest. The tree children were stubborn, and they had gone the wrong way. They were lost.

“Can we use our familiars to scout?” Eatheltwein asked.

“Too tight, we might lose them. We need a Mothkin.”

“Those giant fairy moths? that turn into human sized fairies that guide people?”

“I’m not going to ask how you know that, but yes. I don’t know the names of any in this forest, to call for one. By the way, saying a fey’s name, if it has given it too you out of fondness, is how to charm a fey to you. It’s rude to say, or share, a fey’s name; it’s a gift from their parents. Also, never summon them like edge lord Edmond.”

“The Wolf prince?”

“Yes. By the way, if he ever comes to you for peace, say yes, and don’t mention that I said that.”

“This place really got to you aunt Merry…” Eathel mused. He was ensnared in greater bean stalk, which was talking to him in tree euphemisms. Something about him being a treasure of the Grand West. Then, as he was being lifted by the tendrils, shortbread fell out of his pocket. Eatheltwein had taken it in the cabin, as the fairy recommended. Meriam picked them up; they were rum flavoured. She shrugged and put them on a nice plate from the palace, she summoned with chalk. Eathel was now having neon flowers and fruit nuzzled against him by the tree children. Now he was bothered. He was in need of a water closet.

It was a waiting game. They hoped some mothkin, whisp, or nymph, would come and help them for a cookie. Fairy logic is both the best and worst. Eventually the tree children parted way, slowly dropping Eatheltwein, and a night blue mothkin walked forward. She was deep blue and royal navy; wearing a sparkling velvet robe, long glassy hair, and soft eyed wings and antenna.

“The cookie is nice, but I could feel your desperation from across the creek. Sorry I took so long, you guys kept moving away.” She said calmly. “Oh! I remember you! Meriam Craweleoth?”

“Hello, my name is Eatheltwein Cynedom; what is your name?” Eathel said, hoping to get his first fey name. Meriam handed the cookies to the Mothkin, with a smile.

“Celscael. Most mages call me Chelsea. It’s nice to meet you Eatheltwein” Chelsea said, taking a bite and gesturing them to follow. The world will literally bend before a mothkin, between the start and finish of a journey. Meriam and Eatheltwein could see the warp of the trees and path as they followed; they didn’t even say where they were going, and Chelsea still led them to the Fairy Gate.

“Good tidings! Thank you for helping Corona; I can’t wait to make more friends when those lively dancing men move into the forest! This has got to be one of the better places mother has put me.” Chelsea said tenderly. Meriam smiled and waved goodbye, as did Eatheltwein to copy. They ran back to the gate and Shadow Veil without looking behind them, and walked into the square panting.

“Don’t take me on your next quest; I will be in the study becoming a good nobleman. Please Aunt Merry. PLEASE.” Eatheltwein said. He noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and hugged himself in embarrassment. He turned to Meriam; she was ecstatic.

“I am going to spend the next two days writing that all down! That was so Exciting! Odette will love to hear about this!” Meriam giddily chimed. Meriam was never this cheerful. Eathel looked at her blankly, and then he silently walked back to the palace alone.

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[earthstory]

Australia’s Blue Mountains

The Three Sisters (pictured) in Blue Mountain National Park draw millions of visitors each year. Aboriginal legend says that they are 3 sisters turned into stone for protection; geologically, they are the result of hundreds of millions of years of deposition, uplift, volcanic activity, and erosion.

The Blue Mountains are on a base of rocks that can be up to 470 million years old. Much of it is quartzite that has been folded and faulted by movements of the Earth. This movement caused the area to be flooded from the east creating a shallow sea. Between 250 and 280 million years ago, rivers and streams deposited large quantities of sediments onto the sea floor in horizontal layers, eventually reaching 500 meters thick. Time and pressure turned these sediments into shales, siltstones, and mudstones. Coal seams formed wherever swampy areas along the shoreline piled dead vegetation onto the sediment.

250 million years ago, during the Triassic Period, large rivers begin to dump sand on top of the sediments. The weight of the sand and sediments caused the region to sink, forming a basin, which continued to fill with sand. The subsidence created conditions where heat and pressure could turn the sediments into hard rock, while the sand deposits above compacted and cemented into layers of sandstone 300 meters thick.

About 170 million years ago, tectonic activity caused the region to uplift creating the plateau that is now The Blue Mountains, and putting an end to the sand deposition. The hard rock bent and flexed under the upward forces, but the sandstone fractured into vertical cracks called joints. Volcanic activity related to the uplift started 150 million years ago, adding basalt lava to the mix. Some of the eruptions were as recent as 17 million year ago.

Water, wind, temperature, and gravity are now the dominate forces shaping the plateau. Sandstone resists erosion, but the softer shales and coals are more vulnerable. Weathering can erode and cause the softer rocks to break, undermining the sandstone, particularly along the vertical joints. This is what creates the magnificent formations like The Three Sisters. The Sisters were once part of the cliff at Echo Point, but erosion undermined the sandstone and massive blocks of rocks broke off of the cliff, leaving behind the 3 massive pinnacles.

Blue Mountains National Park is part of the Greater Blue Mountain Area, which was declared a UN World Heritage Site in 2000. They are located in New South Wales.

RE

Photo Credit: David Iliff http://bit.ly/1P5kFfA

References: http://bit.ly/1xIPL7k

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UNLEASH YOUR CREATIVITY WITH THE COLLECTION OF BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP

We have a great collection of Indian marble and Kishangarh marble, granite, sandstone with the great and latest cutting and finishing tools for marble stone. We have a fully experienced team for cutting, finishing, and supplying the marble stone with the latest technologies.

We are one of the greatest marble manufacturers, suppliers, and exporters of all kinds of marble stones like marble, Italian marble, Marble Flooring, Onyx marble, Statuario Marble, Sandstone, Kishangarh marble, Indian marble, Makrana Marble, and Granite at an affordable price. Looking for any kind of quality marble, granite in India, or anywhere in the world, you are at the best place. We provide quality marble, Granite, Limestone, etc in India or anywhere in all over the world at wholesale price.

MARBLE

Marble is a metamorphic rock formed when limestone is exposed to high temperatures and pressures. Marble forms under such conditions because the calcite forming the limestone recrystallizes forming a denser rock consisting of roughly equigranular calcite crystals. The variety of colors exhibited by marble is a consequence of minor amounts of impurities being incorporated with the calcite during metamorphism.

While marble can appear superficially similar to quartzite, a piece of marble will be able to be scratched by a metal blade, and marble will fizz on contact with dilute hydrochloric acid.

Marble Stone at Best Price in India –

Indian Marbles: Indian Marbles Price | Indian Marble The Pioneer group of Indian marble Bhandari marble group India since 1631,

Uses of Marble

Marble occurs in large deposits that can be hundreds of feet thick and geographically extensive. This allows it to be economically mined on a large scale, with some mines and quarries producing millions of tons per year.

Most marble is made into either crushed stone or dimension stone. Crushed stone is used as an aggregate in highways, railroad beds, building foundations, and other types of construction. Dimension stone is produced by sawing marble into pieces of specific dimensions. These are used in monuments, buildings, sculptures, paving, and other projects. We have an article about “the uses of marble” that includes photos and descriptions of marble in many types of uses.

MAINTENANCE

A comprehensive care and maintenance program is just as important as the initial material selection. If you’re a homeowner, you’ll want to be aware of the care and maintenance requirements before you select a material. If you are an architect or designer, you’ll want to know this information prior to specifying a material. Manufacturer

Marble is a metamorphic rock composed of recrystallized carbonate minerals, most commonly calcite or dolomite. Different Shades of Imported Marble.

Interior

Marble is typically not foliated, although there are exceptions. In geology, the term marble refers to metamorphosed limestone, but its use in stonemasonry more broadly encompasses unmetamorphosed limestone.

GRANITE

Granite is a common type of felsic intrusive igneous rock that is granular and phaneritic in texture. Granites can be predominantly white, pink, or gray in color, depending on their mineralogy. A simple definition is used in introductory courses; a more precise definition is used by petrologists geologists who specialize in the study of rocks and, the definition of granite expands wildly when used by people who sell dimension stones such as countertops, tile, and building veneer.

USE OF GRANITE

Granite has a rich beauty that few other countertop materials can match. … Granite is a very hard substance and is not susceptible to scratches. While not ideal to work on because it will dull knife blades, it will take normal wear and tear very well. Granite resists heat too, so its use near a range or cooktop is ideal.

Granite is used in buildings, bridges, paving, monuments, and many other exterior projects. Indoors, polished granite slabs and tiles are used in countertops, tile floors, stair treads, and many other design elements. Granite is a prestige material, used in projects to produce impressions of elegance and quality.

Granite is the rock most often quarried as a “dimension stone” a natural rock material that has been cut into blocks or slabs of a specific length, width, and thickness. Granite is hard enough to resist abrasion, strong enough to bear significant weight, inert enough to resist weathering, and it accepts a brilliant polish. These characteristics make it a very desirable and useful dimension stone. granite backsplash

Explore the many uses of granite!

Most of the granite dimension stones produced in India. Granite has been used for thousands of years in both interior and exterior applications. Rough-cut and polished granite is used in buildings, bridges, paving, monuments, and many other exterior projects. Indoors, polished granite slabs, and tiles are used in countertops, tile floors, stair treads, and many other practical and decorative features. High price often reduces the popularity of construction material, and granite often costs significantly more than man-made materials in most projects. However, granite is frequently selected because it is a prestige material, used in projects to produce impressions of elegance, durability, and lasting quality.

Granite is also used as crushed stone or aggregate. In this form, it is used as a base material at construction sites, as an aggregate in road construction, railroad ballast, foundations, and anywhere that crushed stone is useful.

GRANITE FOUND

Where Is Granite Found? Much of the earth’s continental crust is made of granite, and it forms the cores of the continents. In INDIA the landscape surrounding south and Rajasthan extending consists of granite rock.

GRANITE QUALITY

Thick granite is considered higher quality and more durable than thin granite. Quality countertops should be around 1 to 3 inches thick in order to provide the necessary durability associated with us.

MOST EXPENSIVE GRANITE

The most expensive types of stone are blue granite. Various types of blue granite, like Azul Aran and Blue Bahia granite, are in the high-end of the price range. The most expensive type of granite is Van Gogh granite.

Granite is the best popular choice of stone in the use of domestic and commercial purposes. Granite is stain resistant and durable stone, it’s wide and colors make the most beautiful stone for a lifetime. Granites are usually found in Indis mountain ranges. We are a top leading granite company in India to produce quality and strongest granites. Our best granite is famous for a combination of beauty and strength.

GRANITE SLABS AND COUNTERTOPS

Granite has a rich beauty that few other countertop materials can match. … Granite is a very hard substance and is not susceptible to scratches. While not ideal to work on because it will dull knife blades, it will take normal wear and tear very well. Granite resists heat too, so its use near a range or cooktop is ideal.

Colors OF GRANITE

Granite is a natural stone, which comes in a massive range of colors. It is a completely natural process of how the colors of granite form – many factors are at play here. We found this article explaining how we come to find so many beautiful natural colors in the granites we see today!

Granite colors range the spectrum from white to black to pink, but what makes a single rock type so variable? Here we will discover what makes each granite a different color, what that tells us about its mineralogy and origin. You may be an amateur geologist, just curious, or looking for your new granite countertops. Regardless of the reason, you’ll be amazed at the vast varieties of different granites.

Granite is one of the most commonly known types of rocks, used in everything from buildings to sculptures. It has been used for thousands of years and is regarded as a symbol of status, strength, and durability.

What is Granite?

Granite is an intrusive igneous rock with large grains (minerals) easily seen by the naked eye. Granite colors are most commonly pink, white, variations of grey and black. However, it’s important to note that some stones marketed as black ‘granite’ are in fact likely gabbro as granite must contain at least 20% quartz within a rock to make it granite.

Now, let’s break down what exactly an intrusive igneous rock is:

An intrusive rock means that molten rock cooled within the crust and was never expelled as molten rock. The gradual cooling of molten rock is imperative to create the large crystals of a singular mineral that we see in granites. With time, there is differential lithification or solidifying of molten rock dependent on chemical makeup, this allows for different types of minerals to form at different periods of time and alter the final resulting granite.

Therefore, the size of individual grains is proportional to how slowly the molten rock was cooled. Extrusive rocks cool during a volcanic eruption and allow no time for orientation of minerals, creating a homogenous looking rock with no discernible grains.

Igneous rock is a rock that has solidified from molten rock. This is in comparison to the two other major types of rock, sedimentary and metamorphic. What Determines Granite Colours?

Granite is a conglomerate of minerals and rocks, primarily quartz, potassium feldspar, mica, amphiboles, and trace other minerals. Granite typically contains 20-60% quartz, 10-65% feldspar, and 5-15% micas (biotite or muscovite). The minerals that make up granite give it the unique colors we see in different types of granite.

The relative proportion of different colored minerals in granite is largely due to the original source of molten rock that cooled to form the granite. If the molten rock was abundant in potassium feldspar, the granite is more likely to take on a salmon pink color. On the other hand, if the molten rock is abundant in quartz and minerals that make up amphibole, you will likely get a black and white speckled granite commonly seen on countertops.

Quartz – typically milky white color Feldspar – typically off-white color Potassium Feldspar – typically salmon pink color Biotite – typically black or dark brown color Muscovite – typically metallic gold or yellow color Amphibole – typically black or dark green color The combination of the minerals above makes up most of the colors we typically see in granite. Now, let’s break down the distance types of granite and a quick overview of what gives them their color

White Granite

White granite is a granite that is composed primarily of quartz (milky white) and feldspar (opaque white) minerals. The small black specks in the granite above are likely small amphibole grains. This could be due to a lack of chemical components needed to form amphibole, or the cooling process was not amenable to the formation of amphiboles.

If you see a rock that is 100% white, it is not granite but more likely a man-made rock that is created to look like granite or a quartz (quartzite) countertop.

Black Granite

“Black granite” is commonly seen in commercial rock, but it is not granite at all. As said above, granite must be at least 20% quartz, which means an all-black rock is not granite. Most commonly, black granite is in fact gabbro, a mafic intrusive igneous rock similar to basalt. Gabbro is primarily composed of minerals pyroxene, plagioclase, and small amounts of olivine (dark green) and amphibole.

Pink Granite

Pink-colored granite is a result of an abundance of potassium feldspar within the granite. You can see small specs of milky semi-transparent quartz, dark brown/black amphibole, and opaque white feldspar. However, in a granite-like, the one above the primary mineral is potassium feldspar.

Black And White Granite

The above granite appears to have equal parts quartz, feldspar, and amphibole, making a speckled black and white granite. This is one of the most common types of granite and one that is most commonly seen used for granite countertops.

Red Granite

Red granite is a variation of pink potassium feldspar abundant granite, where the k-feldspar takes on a redder than pinker color. Also, you can get red coloring from iron oxide in hematite grains or inclusion within feldspar, essentially the same process that makes rusted metal ruby red-colored.

Blue Granite

You may find advertisements for blue granite countertops but this is also almost certainly not granite. One potential is that the rock is actually Larvikite, an igneous variety of monzonite, and sometimes referred to as “blue granite” despite it not being granite. Another common alternative is Anorthosite, a rock that contains abundant blue labradorite and is sometimes sold as blue granite.

Green Granite

When advertised as green granite, often times the stone is actually a green variety of marble, which gains its green coloration due to inclusions of serpentine. It could also be a green variation of soapstone, mislabeled as granite. Granites are not abundant in green colored minerals, but there are a variety of different rock types that do contain green minerals in abundance. One very unusual way to get a green coloration is the inclusion of amazonite, a green variety of feldspar.

DARK GRANITE

No shade will appear more elegant than black or dark gray. This timeless classic appears striking and adds a sense of importance to the kitchen. For a traditional feel, pair dark granite with elegant wood cabinets. If you want your space to appear more modern, create contrast with white or even glass cabinetry.

Before deciding on dark stone, be sure that there is ample natural light in the room. Dark colors have a way of making a space shrink, but that is offset by a view of the outdoors. If you are worried about the shrinking effect and don’t have a big window – consider using lighter color granite on your kitchen island. This bold move is not for the faint of heart but does make the kitchen feel larger without sacrificing the elegance of black granite.

WHITE GRANITE

Pure white granite is nearly impossible to find. Instead, you’ll find a stone with flecks of brown, black, or even blue. Whitestone countertops immediately bring brightness to a room, giving it a cheery feel. Be careful when selecting white granite and consider cabinets, flooring, and wall color: if the pallet is too pale the room will go from pale to wash out.

We recommend pairing white granite with a dark wood like cherry for a traditional, rustic space. If you’d like something more modern, opt for the full contrast of black cabinetry and link the two opposites with stainless steel appliances.

BEIGE OR NEUTRAL

Neutral granite countertops have unlimited versatility and can be part of almost any design plan. Be aware that they do give a summery feel so consider the complementary elements carefully if that isn’t what you’re going for.

BLUE, GREEN, RED

Congratulations, you’re among the boldest designers we know. Choosing a non-traditional color is a risky move that can provide a huge reward. When selecting a colored stone, know that the countertops will be the absolute centerpiece of the kitchen. Reign in the color elsewhere cabinets, walls, appliances to make sure you don’t create a space that feels too busy. Nail the look and you’ll have a kitchen worth remembering, miss the mark and your guests will hope they can forget it!

Granite is one of the best building materials that you will find for the home. Granite countertops are among the most popular types of countertops worldwide. Whether you are looking for kitchen countertops, bathroom countertops, backsplashes, vanities, or anything else, this natural stone is an excellent choice. Granite is a highly attractive, durable, and easy to care for the stone that will transform your home for the better.

This stone comes in a seemingly endless amount of granite colors and styles for you to choose from. You are practically guaranteed to find something that you like when looking for granite countertops or other home fixtures. You will also get the benefit of a long-lasting surface that is not vulnerable to many types of damage if properly cared for. Whether you are searching for a countertop or any other structure to complete your home remodel, granite should be one of your top choices.

Your number of options is one of the many benefits you will receive from this top natural stone choice. Beyond that, granite is also very easy to maintain. All you need is a daily cleaner. to maintain a new look for your countertop You will only have to re-seal a granite countertop roughly every six months, depending on the specific type of granite. If you make the proper effort to take care of the stone, your granite surfaces can stay in top shape for many years.

Although no natural stone is cheap, granite slabs are among the less expensive options per square foot for natural stone surfaces. Keep in mind that this stone is of very high quality. Granite is not a material that is weak or easy to damage. In fact, granite scores a 7 on the Mohs Scale of Hardness. When it comes to countertop materials, granite is truly a great option all around.

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Real places straight out of a dream

Devil’s Postpile

The geological formation known as the Devil’s Postpile is the largest known example of a columnar basalt. This type of formation happens when basaltic lava forms a lake, cools slowly, and cracks along stress points. Until recently, it was thought to have formed about one million years ago. Current studies suggest that the Postpile was formed less than 100,000 years ago when a cooling lava flow cracked into multi-sided columns. However, to fully understand the geologic setting of the Postpile we must go back millions of years to a time when there was no Sierra Nevada and California was a shallow sea.

An estimated 80,000 to 100,000 years ago a lava vent began spewing hot basaltic lava into the Reds Meadow Valley near present-day Upper Soda Springs, a few miles north of the Monument. Basalt lava is rich in iron and magnesium and is typically much hotter than other types of lava. Because of these traits, basaltic lava tends to have a lower viscosity and will flow more quickly than other lava types. The lava flowed down the valley like a river until it was blocked by a natural dam, probably a glacial moraine left down-valley by a receding glacier during a previous ice age. The lava began filling the valley behind this dam, creating a lava lake 400 ft. deep in some areas. Such depth is uncommon among lava flows and plays a crucial role in the formation of the long columns we see today.

Hobgoblin’s Playground

Like a fanciful mirage, fiery sandstone fins and bizarre  shaped hoodoos leap from the desert floor. Here in the Gold Butte area on a remote section of Mojave Desert you’ll find Hobgoblin’s Playground. A land governed by the BLM and well off the beaten track, these highly weathered rock formations appear like something from another planet. Akin to the nearby Valley of Fire, this red rock setting was formed millions of years ago from wind-blown dunes. Today’s ever-changing landscape, shaped by the wind and occasional heavy rains, makes it difficult for desert plants to take hold. Small dunes areas are held in place with sparse desert grasses, sagebrush and saltbush. While lizards and snakes are common, small desert dwelling mammals such as jackrabbits, kangaroo rats, mice and coyotes are seldom seen.

The landscape here doesn’t just melt and run—it appears to be alive. Distorted profiles of weird creatures, disembodied fins and faces and all manner of dreamlike weirdness awaits you at Hobgoblin’s Playground, which is also known as Little Finland.

The Stone Waterfalls

At first glance, this looks like a frozen waterfall, which is kind of impossible, especially in such a moderate climate as the south of Mexico. It actually is a waterfall of stone, which is several orders of magnitude more impossible, but here it is; above the tourist attraction of Hierve el Agua (The Water Boils) in Oaxaca is what really looks like a petrified waterfall.

The main tourist draw here are the natural mineral springs, and they are also the reason for this surreal geological formation. There was once an actual waterfall at the site, where the water is so rich in minerals that a whole bunch got left behind.

Blue City of Chefchaouen, Morocco

Chefchaouen is a popular Moroccan tourist destination due to its proximity to Tangiers. It is named for the twin mountain peaks that overlook the town—its name translates roughly to “look at the horns.” Chefchaouen is notable not for its twin peaks but for another reason—everything is blue. And we mean pretty much everything.

In a tradition started by Jewish settlers in the 1930s, practically every house and building in the entire town is painted in various shades of light blue and it’s not uncommon to see residents outside with paintbrushes, touching up the blue on their houses. It’s a pretty tiny town where most roads lead to the Central Plaza or Plaza Uta el-Hammam. 

McMurdo Sound Ice Shelf

Many scientists think that primitive life began on ice shelves much like the one in McMurdo Sound in Antarctica. Researchers in this region must deal with long stretches of permanent and semi-permanent day and night, which must mess with one’s sleep pretty badly.  

The effect seen above is caused by several different types of ice—glacial ice, marine ice, and the surface stuff—being present on the snow-covered surface of the ice shelf, combined with wind erosion. The same effect is known to be be caused by various psychotropic drugs—LSD, marijuana, mescaline—being present on the surface of one’s brain, combined with reality erosion.  

Antelope Canyon

Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon, which is a narrow crevice caused by quickly moving waters. Its Navajo name is Tse’ bighanilini (place where water runs through the rocks). Carved from the same sandstone mentioned earlier, the result is an extremely fluid looking environment.

The small amount of natural light contributes to the otherworldly feeling, and there are places where beams of light illuminate small portions of otherwise gloomy basins. Needless to say, photographers and filmmakers love the place—but you have to go with a guide, who is there to prevent damage to the surroundings.

The Wave

There is a place in the Arizona desert where ancient sand dunes—layer upon layer of them buried underground for millenia—came to the surface a few million years ago. Water erosion revealed iron and mineral deposits that are wind smoothed over the surfaces. The result in the present day is a mind-bending landscape that your brain may outright reject if you were to stumble across it.

Of course, that wouldn’t be easy—the Bureau of Land Management doesn’t exactly herd visitors out to what is commonly known as The Wave on account of the person-killing heat and how understandably easy it is to get lost in the area.

Dallol Volcano

In the desert of Ethiopia, in a very sparsely inhabited region, lies a volcanic crater surrounded by an abundant variety of minerals. Sulfur, salt, iron, and ocher abound. There are also acidic pools and hot springs—all things associated with volcanic and geothermal activity.  

All of these things combine to produce an absolute riot of colours and formations that nobody associates with nature: Some areas look like snow-covered plains. Some look like mountains with the hue setting tweaked to hell. And some look like pools on the surface of the moon. The area is seldom visited or photographed for good reasons—toxic fumes are often present as a result of all the weird chemical combinations, and it happens to regularly record the highest average temperature in a notoriously hot area. Its name, in the local language, means disintegrated, which aptly describes one’s sense of reality when laying eyes upon this place.

[wisithir1946-blog]

What are the best resorts in Asia?

Whether you are visiting Thailand or Vietnam, India or Indonesia, resorts in Asia offer luxurious and many added features which spices up the phrase 'wander lust.' We have come up a list for those asking the question: what are the best resorts in Asia?

 1.       ITC Grand Bharat, Gurgaon, India

This architecturally magnificent property that sprawls half-square-mile complex of blush-hued sandstone blocks seems like an exotic medieval fortress. Visitors enjoy the all-suite resort's elegant Peacock Bar, inspired by the national bird of India. Wooden panels carved into the form of the multi-colored bird body the bar, where you are strongly advised to drag up a chair and enjoy the 'bar theater'. A professional mixer could use liquid smoke in the making of your drink.

 2. SONG SAA PRIVATE ISLAND RESORT, CAMBODIA

 Created with sustainability in mind, Song SAA Private Island is the idiom of pure beauty, positioned alongside the stunning Cambodian coastline. This distant personal island resort features 27 extremely-luxurious villas located at the fringe of the jungle or right on the water, built utilizing local materials and by native craftsmen. Every villa boasts a plunge pool and personal deck with incredible ocean views.

 3.       Six Senses, Yao Noi, Thailand

 The Six Senses is a 56-villa resort situated on Yao Noi, an island in Thailand facing Phang Nga Bay.  It is surrounded by limestone cliffs, mangrove forests, and  crystal-blue water. It has emerged an icon in the hospitality industry since it started its operation in 2017, thanks to its emphasis on sustainable tourism and community engagement. The grounds used to be a rubber plantation, which the resort's team has replaced with plants and new trees.

 4.       Samabe Bali Suites & Villas

This extremely-luxurious beachfront resort is situated atop a cliff. It is only a 5-minute drive from central Nusa Dua. Its stylish and elegant 81 villas and suites have a stunning mix of contemporary and conventional Indonesian decoration, high quality facilities, and balconies providing expansive ocean views. The villas have up to two bedrooms with private infinity pools. Visitors delight in various attractions such as a private seashore, a beautiful spa, two wonderful eating places, a beautiful infinity pool, a kid’ club, and plenty of daily activities. What more, all-inclusive rates cover every little thing from cultural tours to free daily spa treatments to yoga lessons at the beachside.

 5.       El Nido Resorts Pangulasian Island

 This luxurious tropical island getaway is composed of 42 villas. It has stupendous huge seashore abutting turquoise waters, and surrounded by gorgeous jungles. The elegant and spacious villas, featuring Balinese design with trendy contemporary facilities like high-end coffeemakers and flat-screen TVs. There are a lot of activities you can do here like diving, snorkeling, kayaking, island tours, mountaineering and sailing.  The on-site restaurants, meanwhile, features native ingredients, and the spa and pool are perfect for relaxing.

 6.       Four Seasons Langkawi, Malaysia

 Situated at the side of the Andaman Sea, this unique property featuring 91 rooms is inspired by Alhambra Palace with Moorish details in a bucolic Malay kampong setting. Its stunning endless private beachfront, with mountains and jungles at the backdrop, and location within the UNESCO World Geopark (with sites dating more than 500 million years) offer several means for guests to interact with the environment. They may watch scoop squid from a fishing boat, sea eagles soar, lie on the sand and windsurf or sail; marvel at sea creatures in PulauPayar Marine Park;go on a cable car ride to MatCincang peak;  and so forth.

[starsailorstories]

Songs That Remind Me of Every Planet I’ve Developed for Sweet Chariot So Far

Note: Most of these are instrumental or in languages other than English or it’s not really about the lyrics so I didn’t add lyrics like on most of my playlists, but if you’re curious about any of them I can tell you why I chose them--just send an ask!

Aeverell | A wet young world where two fertile continents are actively forming along the tropics as volcanoes push the seafloor up. Verdant hills and carpets of meadow intersected suddenly here and there by rock and fire.

Song: “Suspended in Gaffa”//Ra Ra Riot

Altamai | A warm Venusian planet where ancient ladies of war built fortresses high above the suffocating pink clouds, their spires reaching into the blue sky. Today an old aristocracy live in its dreamlike haze, their supporting peasantry largely dispersed elsewhere.

Song: “N”//iamamiwhoami

Ashtiva | A cold, dim, wild world of mostly permafrost tundra, lit by a red sun. Once, it was home to some of the greatest artists and architects in the galaxy, said to build their own souls into their creations.   

Song: “The Space Between”//Joanna Brouk

Aphacaria | Mostly too hot to inhabit, but encircled by a band of grassland with a rainy and a dry season. This is dotted with graceful sandstone cities full of arched bridges and high gothic windows, canyons of terraced homes that funnel the wind down to the long rivers and wide prairies where huge, graceful animals graze. 

Song: “Free Walk”//Melt Yourself Down

Basilea | Not a “planet” per se, but the urban and glittering Rings--a swarm of orbiting settlements that circle the mutual point of gravitation between Sol Atya and Sol Jenya--are home to the overwhelming majority of Basillans. Most orbiters are highly planned and orderly--grids of soft pinkish grasses and delicate brass-and-glass buildings--yet exploding with all the messiness of life.

Song: “The BQE: Movement VI--Isorhythmic Night Dance With Interchanges”//Sufjan Stevens

Caesura B | A world of teal skies and red earth, bathed in the light of a hot blue sun. Airy white-sand cities, succulent forests, and spires of wind-carved stone hug the waters of its few oases, while dangerous flighted creatures--some as big as a city block--dip beneath its clouds and bathe in its single polar ocean. 

Song: “The Kingdom”//Jesca Hoop  (The song for this one actually is kind of lyrically appropriate, haha.)

Dorong | A huge, mountainous rock whose landscape is punctuated by spindly black-foliage forests and salt seas, many of which have been carved into huge, ever-shifting metropolises full of brazier-lit squares and briny fountains. 

Song: “Performance 1, Part 1″//Terry Riley

Esmrrrder | Much of the land surface of Esmrrrder is occupied by sheer, impassible mountains, so its busy industrial settlements skirt the boundaries between the mountains and seas. Became very technologically advanced very quickly, and has the messy and unfinished feel of rapid building in most populated areas. 

Song: “Colony Collapse”//Beats Antique (I realized after choosing this that the way the samples sound at the beginning imitates the drastic stops and tongue buzzes in the Esmrrrderian languages--exemplified by the one in the name of the planet actually)

Glasmiri | A world of rivers and islands--although the surface is mostly water, there are no defined seas; the distribution of land is fairly even, from the fjords of the north to the swampy jungles of the south. Although settled long ago, it is over 80% rural because building anything bigger than a small island estate is just too hard to build.

Song: “Chin Chin Chidori”//Yo Yo Ma

Shali | A stormy gas giant encircled by terraformed orbiting settlements. This is one of the first areas to be developed with energy-maximizing swarm building technology, and its communities are a bit run down and vulnerable to the volatile nature of their host world. In all their precariousness, the Shalians maintain a tight-knit and vibrant culture, often in harmony with the very turbulence that threatens them.

Song: “Part of the Math”//Panda Bear (first song in this performance; the studio version isn’t on youtube but this live version is very high-quality and very faithful to it. Warning for sudden loud noises)

Sitheria | Highly populated and technologically advanced, but with a cultural character that shifts jarringly between dogmatically conservative and genuinely spiritual. Home to many long-venerated places filled with the marks of honest life, but under the heavy hand of the praeceptorate and the empire and always just a little too formal and clean.

Song: “The Station”//Oneohtrix Point Never (Note: the only version of this on youtube is the official video, which is super different aesthetically from my mental picture of this song)

Tarega | A Mars-like world of cold deserts, its rock-hewn cities are mostly abandoned now that its climate and atmosphere have changed, though there are still scattered populations, and historians and pilgrims still roam its ancient sites.

Song: “Safer”//Animal Collective (I know this is also on my Levinoxia playlist but honestly, this setting is what I think of when I think of her entropy/decay/rebirth aspect, which is what the song’s supposed to represent on her playlist)