#well not actually the canyon but its a lake inside the canyon.

[chardhamyattra-blog]

Best 8 Chardham Yatra Package 2023

The Chardham Yatra is a pilgrimage circuit in the Indian state of Uttarakhand, which consists of four ancient Hindu temples: Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath, and Badrinath. The Yatra is considered to be one of the most sacred journeys in Hinduism, and it is believed that undertaking this journey can help in attaining Moksha or liberation.

Places to visit in Chardham

Yamunotri

The Yamunotri Temple, one of the Chardham pilgrimages, was constructed in the 19th century close to the sacred Yamuna River's source. A 5 km walk will take you to the temple from the outlying Janki Chatti settlement. There are a number of hot springs next to the temple that are safe to dip in, and visitors can also see pilgrims preparing grains and potatoes for prasad within the building.

Significance of Yamunotri

Yamunotri, which is in Uttarkashi and is situated at an elevation of 10,803 feet in the Garhwal Himalayas, is about 40 kilometres from Barkot. The Yamunotri Glacier, which is located near the Bandarpunch Peaks at an elevation of 20,954 feet, is where the Yamuna actually originates. On your vacation to Yamunotri, you can see places like Divya Shila, Hanuman Chatti, Surya Kund, and Saptarishi Kund Lake.

Gangotri

The Ganges, the most venerated Hindu river, originates in the Gangotri Temple, one of the most sacred sites in the nation. In mythology, the nearby rock acted as a cushion to protect the world from the destruction that the river may have brought about if it had not been for Shiva's tangled hair in heaven.

Significance of Gangotri

According to Hindu mythology, Ganga was a gift from Lord Shiva to King Bhagirath in recompense for his assiduous penance. However, Lord Shiva captured the Ganges in his locks and made it flow down through them since he understood its true strength and the disaster it would bring about if permitted to run down unchecked. One of the reasons Ganga is known as Bhagirathi, after her father, King Bhagirath, is the sacred stone that bore the brunt of the rushing river's force and is located close to the Gangotri shrine.

Kedarnath

Kedarnath is surrounded by icy Himalayan peaks and is situated close to the Chorabari Glacier, which feeds the Mandakini River. It is located at an elevation of 11,755 feet, and the nearest roadhead to Kedarnath is Gaurikund, which is 14 kilometres distant. The legendary origins of the stone hump inside the temple can be found in the epic Mahabharata, where the Pandavas begged Lord Shiva's mercy after defeating the Kauravas, who were after every member of their own family.

Significance of Kedarnath

Due to its proximity to the Chorabari Glacier, where the Mandakini River rises, the Kedarnath Temple boasts one of the most striking settings of all Hindu temples. As one of the twelve Jyotirlingas, Kedarnath attracts Hindu visitors all summer long. It is distinguished by deep canyons, apple orchards, snow-capped summits, and terraced hill slopes.

Badrinath

The Badrinath Temple, which is devoted to Lord Vishnu, also has a beautiful location at the foot of the pyramid-shaped, snow-capped Nilkantha peak. It is one of Chardham's most conveniently located temples and has a picturesque setting. Guru Adi Shankaracharya founded it in the eighth century.

However, the temple has undergone numerous updates and renovations. Hot springs with water that reaches a scorching 40 degrees Celsius are located at the base of the temple and are used by the locals for laundry and bathing. The Badrinarayan statue was discovered in the Alakananda River by Adi Shankaracharya, who built the original Badrinath Temple.

Significance of Badrinath

The Badrinath town is unspoiled and lovely, with many vistas of snow-capped high peaks, dense forests, and the holy river cutting through the lush valley and flowing down it. Kedar-Badri Utsav, Janmashtami, and Mata Mruti ka Mela are a few well-known festivals that take place in Badrinath. There are a number of attractions nearby Badrinath that you can visit, including Badri Narayan Temple, Panch Prayag Temple, Tapt Kund for its hot springs, Mana Village, Bheem Pul, and Vasudhara Falls.

When looking for a Chardham Yatra package for 2023, it is important to consider the following factors:

Itinerary: Make sure that the itinerary includes all four temples of the Chardham Yatra, as well as any other important pilgrimage sites along the way.

Duration: The duration of the tour should be long enough to cover all the sites comfortably. Usually, Chardham Yatra packages last for 10-12 days.

Accommodation: Check if the package includes accommodation in comfortable and hygienic hotels or lodges along the route.

Transport: Make sure that the package includes comfortable and safe transportation for the entire duration of the tour.

Guide: It is recommended to choose a package that includes an experienced and knowledgeable guide who can provide you with insights into the history and significance of the pilgrimage sites.

Price: Compare the prices of different packages and choose the one that fits your budget and meets your requirements.

It is advisable to choose a reputable travel agency that specialises in the Chardham Yatra package and has a good track record of providing quality services to its customers.

I hope this information helps you in finding the best Chardham Yatra package for 2023 that meets your requirements and budget.

When planning a Chardham Yatra trip, it's important to keep in mind that the best time to visit is from April to June and September to November when the weather is pleasant and the roads are accessible. During the monsoon season (July to August), the region experiences heavy rainfall, which can make the roads and trekking routes difficult to navigate.

As for tour packages, there are many travel companies that offer Chardham Yatra package but The Chardham yatra Is One of the best. If You can search for them online or consult with a local travel agent to find a package that suits your budget and preferences. It's important to research the company and read reviews before making a booking to ensure that you are getting a reliable and trustworthy service.

I hope this information helps you in planning your Chardham Yatra trip.

[old-knightsvow]

[aisla229]

Finished the first arc of the tabletop rpg game I’m GMing, I can finally post all the art! More about the worldbuilding under the cut:

Sauris is a white moon who’s visible surface is mostly composed of clouds. It orbeting around a gas giant, Caelophy. Millenias ago one of the pieces of the crust rolled over in the sea, exposing its side to the sunlight above, past the violent chemically active (and colorful) clouds inbetween. Life boomed on the continent, giving birth to complexe lifeforms such as plants and animals. Currently, civilisation is on the verge of an industrialisation, with a wide and diverse range of trades, for the first time spanning the massive and entire continent.

The active Inner Cloud layer, in an event called the Cloud’s Shift, can burst outwards. When it touches the continent it is believed to be the cause of creation of magic, causing all kinds of odds events as well, like making felines walk on two legs, plants change color, or give mysterious abilities to hidden creatures.

Any magic needs to be cast with a magic circle, each categorised by naturally occuring sigils at the centers. There is 13 known sigils, each named and tide to the planets and moons of Sauro. However tides are about to move, with a few wary travellers coming across a 14th unknown sigil, with the only proof of it being a reserved kid and a suspicious necklace.

Dinosaurs are the prominent life form on Sauris, with only a few mammals (mostly rodents and our beloved humanoids), fish in the rivers, and giant insects in the bogs. Here is a world where dinosaurs are found as locomotion, pets, food, and terrifying predators. It being very cold on Sauris, all year round, they also all rock some fluffy feather/proto-feathers coats.

The seasons no Sauris, are divided into two summers and two winters, spending a large portion of the year partially obscured of Sauro by Caelophy. The highest temperature is around 10°C , and the lowest -30°C

Here on the continent:

- The Tower of Almonious: A distant land discovered by a great sorcerer who has constructed a massive tower on top. Not much is known to the common people of Sauris, and stays inaccessible even today.

- Pol Malleo: An Active volcano, that unlike the ones on Earth does not eject lava, but a hot water-like liquid. Said liquid, named Azura, has a bright blue-turquoise color that glows a powerful green when it comes in contact with certain gases. The jets can go as high as 50 km high in the sky, forming a long colorful trail as it floats away.When an eruption occurs during Altieme, the droplets of liquid tend to freeze instantly in contact with the cold air, forming icicles that drop on the land below, often causing great problems as they bullet the surface.

- Tiacus Mire: It is currently the land in which resides the biggest city of Sauris; Aegyp. It also has the biggest lake: Great Ophora. During Primaestas, the majority of its land gets flooded, creating humid bogs, prospice to massive creatures, such as insects, Spinosaurus, and water dwellers like the massive mosasaurus.

- The Isles of Breviq: It probably has the most unique land shapes of the entire Continent. Long, relatively thin pillars of land have slowly come apart from the main land mass over many centuries, resulting in its numerous islands appearing to float between the clouds. The people of Breviq are known for having tamed the difficult beasts of the sky; riding pterosaurs.

- Pol Incus: The tallest mountain of Sauris, and so the tallest point of the entire moon. Its difficult climb has challenged many minds to reach its freezing top where the air grows thin. Temples and even old artefacts lie across the peaks or hidden under it’s rocks, proving the curiosity this mountain has always inspired.

- Thyreophor: The biggest land of Sauris. Thyreophor is most defined by its lush forests with massive trees and year-long colorful plants capable of holding under massive amounts of snow. It still holds the title of largest population in total.

- The Sdomorphia Wild Plains: Long stretches of grass and brush-like plants extend for as far as the eye can see. Sdomorphia is the land of nomads and the biggest of the animal kingdom: the Sauropods. It might not contain many streams or lakes, but it’s vast stretches borrow perfectly for herd hunting.

- The Austro Tundra: Unlike the other more South lands of Sauris, the Austro Tundra’s soil never melts away. Its rock-solid earth and ice makes it difficult to build houses on, but it has not stopped villages from sprouting even on the coldest land.The Austro Tundra is the land of Theropods, having the biggest number of raptors alike, many of which have prized feather coats.

- The Coelorus Coast: It has some of the biggest rate of precipitation of Sauris, standing on the right side of Pol Malleo against the strong air currents brushing the clouds below. Perhaps from the warmth created by Pol Malleo, the snow in Coelorus tends to melt a lot quicker than the other lands, and with the high amount of rivers and streams lining the soils, it also is one of the most fertile places. The steep sides of the volcano create perfect ranges for step agriculture, and primarily corn and rice.

- Cephalia: It currently has the title of the land with the biggest number of farm-land. Cephalia is often defined as the most friendly populace. With its loudest voices being farmers and workers, it has a particular streak of freedom and carelessness attached to its name.

- The Shantung Sway: A land carrying its own ecosphere, the people of Shantung have remained centuries without connection to the rest of Sauris. The current path to its land is extremely recent and trades have yet to be initiated. Apart from a very few explorers that have left Shantung to see the lands, and all described as fairly eccentric, interactions have been minimal so far.Shantung has been described as odd and fairy tale-like. With plants that glow in the dark, upside-down trees that prevent snow from reaching the ground, and weird spiky structured rocks. With bizarre animals, dinosaurs naked without feathers, small floating octopus creatures, and long leg-less organisms that slithered like tree branches.

- The Tenonto Canyon: The great divider between Malleo and Incus, the canyon expands down as far as can see, battered with wild winds and dangerous looking tornadoes beneath the clouds. A single bridge has been built on the closest edges, where the trade route quickly bustled with life, and ultimately created Mer, an unique city split in two across each side, one in the Tiacus Mire and the other in Thyreophor.

I’d like to say a big thank you to the players for being so patient and being so invested in this world i created, I love you guys. And thanks to anyone who actually read this!

[redorich]

(Hermit Canyon AU)

Eventually, the Hermit seems to get attached to Puffy. It makes sense- it's been trading gifts with her for months now, and has even shown itself to her a few times, albeit while invisible.

The other SMPers don't think much of it at first. The more curious members ask Puffy questions about The Hermit sometimes, but she knows little, so they quickly give up. Occasionally someone will try to explore the ridiculously trapped town, but they give up once it's obvious they're not getting in.

The trades grow more and more valuable, and one day Puffy opens her barrel to find a beacon, and enough iron to fully power it. She's stunned, naturally. To think the Hermit is so capable it can kill a Wither just to give a beacon away- she can barely believe it.

(In actuality, they cheesed it on the Nether roof, but she doesn't know that)

She does try to hide it, but word gets around, and after another few failed raids on the town (and some rumours that the Hermit can teleport), things settle down again, as much as they can on the SMP.

Then someone steals Puffy's beacon. {You decide who, because I. don't actually watch DSMP, admittedly.}

Puffy, naturally, is devestated- she can't imagine the work the Hermit put into getting it for her in the first place (the most time-consuming thing was getting the Wither skulls, and it wasn't even that bad). But there's not really much she can do, so she carries on.

Except, the next day, the thief wakes up to find their house full of chickens, Puffy's beacon missing, and every single empty space in their chests filled with strategically renamed light grey stained glass panes.

They go outside to find the entire contents of a cave spider spawner on their front lawn. Alongside a ravager. With speed potions. Renamed Pamela's Revenge.

(Cue half the SMP trying to find out who Pamela is)

Puffy, meanwhile, wakes to find her beacon back in its rightful place, and a beautifully terraformed garden outside her house (Scar accidentally detonated a creeper and naturally had to fix the hole...and then went a little overboard. But it's fine.)

op i want you to know that i considered just posting your ask, because it’s already So Good and practically a fic on its own, but i really wanted even more content so i wrote it myself. ANYWAY here’s sapnap’s terrible horrible no good very bad day xD

It’s risky, doing anything on the wide open Nether roof where anyone can see. Hell, using a beacon at all is risky for the Hermits. Still, they’ve got all sorts of farms and copious amounts of materials at their fingertips. They’re past early game, stuck in mid-game while they wait for Etho to scope out more locations, while they build the second Upside Down (which Grian has named the Upside-ier Down), while they build their joint bases miles out from civilization. 

Having a beacon would make the process faster, they reason to themselves. They certainly aren’t risking being discovered just because they’re bored and getting a beacon is an excuse to do something. And hell, Tango made that giant, super-efficient wither skeleton skull farm right next to his double blaze spawner farm, so they might as well mass-produce Nether stars by killing multiple Withers. It’s not that difficult.

On another note, it’s after they gift Puffy one of their many beacons, in addition to a kit of iron blocks for powering the beacon that the Hermits realize that while their gifts are increasing in expense, Puffy’s are... not. So, if Puffy’s around average in the Dream SMP economy, they’ve figured out where most players meet their limit. She hasn’t stopped dropping by, though, which is nice. Her gifts become increasingly handmade, in lieu of upping the ante on material wealth. The Hermits suppose that hand-crafted items have a value that extends past money. Each and every one of them has something that she’s made for them, whether it be a shawl, a blanket, a set of earrings, a bracelet, or a pair of socks.

Apparently the beacon is more of a Big Deal than the Hermits thought. After all, the rainbow castle has several. However, the Hermits realize that they’ve been shortsighted. While it is true that the rainbow castle has several beacons, the castle is the only place that they’ve seen any beacons.

Sapnap steals the beacon. He doesn’t particularly need it, but he wants it, and stealing is fun. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll even start another minor war over it. He hasn’t fought Puffy very much. He wonders if she can put up a good fight.

Puffy’s-- not distraught, but she’s upset. That was a gift from the Hermit, a friend who she’s been pulling out of its shell. She doesn’t have much use for a beacon, but then again, neither does Sapnap; he’s just a dick. Just in case, Puffy leaves a note with the rest of the items she leaves in her barrel:

Dear Hermit,

I’m very sorry for losing the beacon you gave me. I made the mistake of keeping it in a normal chest instead of an Ender chest, so Sapnap stole it. I should have seen that coming. I’ll try to get it back, but if I don’t, please know that I didn’t throw it away.

Thank you,

Puffy.

Sapnap wakes up in the middle of a lake. His mattress is floating, and when he tries to paddle back to shore (once he’s done screaming), the mattress tips over and he receives an unpleasant fishy wakeup call. He trudges into his house for a shower, and finds that the showerhead, as well as all his faucets, have been stuffed with ramen noodle seasoning. 

He looks in his chests for a bucket of water. The first chest he checks is not only full of light gray glass, but also trapped. When he opens it, pufferfish fall out of the ceiling and bounce around. He dies to their poison twice before they finally die. The next chest he opens also has light gray glass, no water buckets, and a trap. This one, though, only releases a metric fuckton of chickens into his house. It’s fine. This is fine.

As he looks through his chests, he realizes something. They’ve got glass in them, sure, and they’ve been raided of water buckets, but... the beacon is gone. None of his other items, like enchanted netherite tools or literal diamond blocks, have been stolen. Just Puffy’s beacon.

Whoever pranked him missed a bucket, so he promptly dumps it over his head in an effort to smell less like pond scum and spicy chicken noodles. It takes the whole day to get his base back in order: he’s got to clean out all the faucets, empty all the glass from his chests, throw out all the dead pufferfish, and slaughter chickens by the dozens.

He can’t sleep. Are you fucking kidding. He can’t sleep. A soft hiss catches his attention, only audible now that the quiet of night has fallen. Is there somehow an unlit cave under his base?

Nope. As he steps outside onto his front lawn, he sees a daylight detector near the door that he missed when he came inside this morning. The daylight detector seems to have released approximately fifteen bajillion cave spiders onto his lawn, and they’re all angry, so he shuts the front door in their faces and goes back inside. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s him.

Horns spear the wall right next to where Sapnap was standing five seconds ago. He yelps. What the fuck is a ravager doing on his front porch? And why the FUCK does it have speed potion particles?!

<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>

<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>

<Sapnap hit the ground too hard whilst trying to escape Pamela’s Revenge>

<Sapnap was slain by Cave Spider>

<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>

<Georgenotfound> who is pamela’s revenge

<Sapnap> ;RVAER

<Sapnap> HELP

<Sapnap> RAVEAGER

<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>

<Georgenotfound> good night sapnap :)

<Sapnap> GEORGE OYU BITCH HLEP ME

<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>

<Georgenotfound> zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

-------

Puffy sees a whole lot of nonsense in the chat when she wakes up in the morning, and promptly decides to ignore it. She goes about her morning as usual, heading out to her front porch to sip a cup of coffee in peace. 

She... has a garden now. Hm. That wasn’t there before. And come to think of it, neither was the beacon she lost.

“Thanks, Hermit,” she says with a smile.

-------

Stress sips a cup of tea, having breakfast in Grian’s rustic sitting room with a few of her fellow Hermits.

“D’ya think we went overboard?” she says.

“...Nah,” Cub says.

[honourablejester]

Kindly forgive a random burst of ego, but I’m reading back through Northern Babylon, a dieselpunk LotR AU I wrote back in 2015, and … okay. I think I did pretty good on the worldbuilding? I mean, looking at it with D&D on the brain for the past year or so, I feel like the city of New Rhovanion would make a pretty good Eberron-ish campaign setting.

A Metropolis-esque dieselpunk fantasy city, built by a semi-forced alliance of elves, men and dwarves driven from their previous homes (Moria, Mirkwood) by the encroaching Southern Powers, some of them very dark (Dol Guldur).

A city of vertical layers, the vast stone-and-ironworks of the dwarves at the base, carved into the stone of the mountain the city rings, the vast transplanted forestscape of the elves at the top, a towerscape of gardens and glasshouses and aqueduct gondolas, and then the homes and markets of men in the lakeside district and the middle heights of the towers.

A city torn apart in recent memory both by the occupation by a dragon in elven disguise which temporarily drove out the dwarven and human inhabitants, and resulted in significant structural and racial damage during the insurrection that followed, and then later the results of a vast continental war that, while it didn’t do too much direct damage to the city besides airstrikes on the elven towers, still left a lot of scars.

A city struggling to rebuild itself, both in terms of buildings and relationships, in the new and sudden peace, where almost all the old enemies have been defeated, and it’s time for old grudges to possibly be laid aside and new cooperation build once again. Possibly.

Like, this bit:

The city had been spared most of the ravages of the war in the south. They'd held off Mordor's advance south of the Running, managing to avoid military occupation, though the Lake District, the still-extant swathes of Mirkwood Forest, and the surface towers of the city itself had taken some damage. The first two had been the cost of stopping the Easterling ground advance, something Gimli knew had a much higher cost in lives, dwarven, elven and human alike, than it had in infrastructure. The latter had been the result of Nazgul airstrikes relatively early in the war, before the Thornhoth Eagles had driven them back south and the land war in Gondor had taken up too much of the Witch-King's attention to bother with anything north of Dol Guldur.

The strikes hadn't done too much serious damage. Not to the structures themselves, at least. New Rhovanion's towers had held strong against dragonfire bombs less than a generation ago, things that could melt rock and steel and concrete as easily as flesh. They'd withstood the explosive anarchy of Smaug's terrorist campaign, when over half the city's dwarven and human populations had been forcibly expelled, and urban fighting in the undercity had killed hundreds more. Nazgul overflights, for all their potency as a terror weapon, just didn't have the same kind of destructive power.

They'd taken chunks out of the city-top forestscape, though. Now that he had the eye for it, Gimli could see the places where it was still under repair. Several of the vast tiered balconies and the street-spanning aqueducts had given way altogether, even now still in the process of being rebuilt, and there were a thousand strange shards of sunlight to be seen as the great glasshouses and refracting mirrors were moved and repaired across the upper city. Worse than that, though, at least for those to whom mattered, were the vast barren stretches where the forests and gardens themselves had been burned away, leaving only cold concrete, melted steel and blacked earth behind them. The great hanging gardens of New Rhovanion, the city-top cathedral of light, had apparently taken the brunt of the city's physical blows this time.

It was strange for Gimli to find himself noticing that, to find himself understanding the pain of it. Dwarves in New Rhovanion didn't spend a lot of time looking upwards, after all. They had their own section of the city to be thinking about, the vast underground mines and thoroughfares, the lower reaches of the towers and the surface streetscapes where the city monorails and the vast ironworks lived. The Ereborean District, carved back into the mountain and the rock beneath the city, its oldest and purest part, was where Gimli had spent so much of his life. It was strange for him to spend so much time looking upward, moving upward.

He'd changed, though. The war had changed him, the things he'd seen, the things Legolas had shown him. He had an idea, now, what that damage meant to the elves of New Rhovanion. He'd seen his elf's face when their train had finally pulled into sight of the city and the scars across its upper reaches had become obvious. He'd seen the blankness that had slipped into Legolas' eyes.

And somehow, because of it, here he was. Gimli Glóinson, an Ereborean dwarf born and bred, standing on a balcony on the side of the Greenwood Oropherion Tower, trying desperately not to think about how many hundreds of feet too high into the air he was. Below him, down at street level and just above it, the great central depot of the Iron Rail Company spewed trains out onto the raised tracks above Oakenshield Avenue, and lighter engines onto the magnetic monorails a few storeys above them. With the repaired mirrors on the upper reaches of the tower filling the street canyon with light almost all the way to the bottom, it was terrifyingly obvious exactly how many feet above that familiar sight he now was.

It wasn't the same, the heights compared to the depths. He'd looked into chasms hundreds of feet deep in Khazad-dûm without a qualm, the great bridge spans of the subterranean Dwarrowdelf inspiring more awe in him than terror. That had been no less of a fall. With the artificial electric suns, no less visible a one either. He knew that. It was just ... it was different up here. It was different on the surface, on one of the tallest towers in New Rhovanion, on some flimsy elven balcony that had blasted tree roots sticking out of the bottom of it. He could see half the city from here. More to the point, he could see how it was all beneath him.

He should have stayed inside, he thought desperately. He should have kept to the interior atrium. The balconies and rooftops and external terraces were the realms of the elves, but the towers that bore them all up were still dwarven construction. The internal shafts, insulated from the sheer external drop and lit exclusively by light refracted from above, had managed to stay comfortably subterranean in feel despite the best efforts of their human and elven occupants. Even the Greenwood Oropherion, the great bastion of Wilderland Elvendom, full of light and water and greenery and with as much of the exterior reaches open to the elements as elvenly possible, hadn't been able to disguise the solid, quintessentially dwarven nature of the stone it was built in.

Like. I feel like I did good there? I feel like that has teeth and potential. Heh. A dieselpunk fantasy city, with a lot of wars behind it, and a tentatively hopeful future.

And this little description of High Elven Councillor Thranduil:

He'd seen Thranduil Oropherion before, of course. Mostly in newsreels, but from a distance as well. The Elven High Councillor had a talent for being seen looking imperiously downwards from various heights, and had a particular fondness for the skycars and the aqueduct gondolas. He was easily recognisable, wearing those long, almost archaic greatcoats the elves favoured, all bronze and green, with his long golden hair bizarrely braided back with something that looked for all the world like live ivy. Even the most deep dwelling, surface-averse dwarves could recognise Thranduil on sight.

He looked a little different now. Some of it was the informality of his dress. Gimli was almost positive that few, if any, dwarves had ever seen the Elven Councillor in shirtsleeves and waistcoat before, his hair looped back into a tail that was, yes, held with an actual trailing plant, for reasons probably only an elf would know. It made him look smaller, somehow, maybe a little bit more fragile. Not quite the distant, impressive creature he usually appeared.

Why do I have so much more fun with worldbuilding and characters than I do with things like, you know, actual plot?

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 14

Buster caught it good from Natalie at breakfast the following morning. As soon as Connie collected the kids to wash them up and the room was empty, she let him have it.

He was made to understand that just before he reappeared inside the house after seeing off Nelly, Louise Brooks had exited the rear loggia, hair and dress rumpled and a nipple exposed, and dashed toward the bathroom. Natalie saw the whole spectacle and saw Buster too, strolling through the front door a minute later with a telltale smear of lipstick on his face. There wasn’t anything he could do to defend himself when she snapped, “I suppose you weren’t thinking about me at all when you went off with Louise last night? What everyone there would think?”

Oh, actually it wasn’t Louise, Nate, that was a crazy coincidence. It was this other girl, you see. Yeah, that’d go over like a lead balloon. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, after giving his answer some thought. “I really am. I had too much to drink. I didn’t know what I was doing.” There was nothing else he could say. Whoever had been out there with Louise, whether George or another lucky man, had either slipped back in unnoticed or left unnoticed, leaving good old Buster to take the fall. He wasn’t convinced that anyone had put two and two together concerning Louise and him, but that hardly mattered to Nate. All the elements to humiliate her had been in place.

“You say you care about me, but that isn’t true at all. Otherwise you wouldn’t be two-timing me every time my back is turned,” she said. Her beautiful eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and he did feel terrible looking at her. He wanted to comfort her, this woman he’d loved since the day he’d stepped off that train in New York and gone to seal their engagement, but he knew it wouldn’t do a lick of good, even if she had allowed him to gather her into his arms and hold her close, which he knew she wouldn’t. 

“You know about the two-timing,” he said. “I never lied about it.” He felt the futility of the argument as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Yes, but you said it wouldn’t be public,” she said, breaking into a sob.

“Nate, I fucked up, alright!” he said. “I don’t know what you want. What do you want me to do, put on the hair shirt and get out the cat o’ nine tails? Jesus, I’m sorry.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. Now he was angry and couldn’t quite grasp why. Something to do with his stupidity and carelessness but also Natalie’s long-standing refusal to engage in the normal rules of marriage as he understood them. He was angry at everything. He shoved the chair so the arms struck the edge of the table, hoping they’d dented the table’s pristine finish, and stormed out. Eleanor was mopping the checkerboard floor and he ignored her meek hello as he jogged up the stairs and stalked into his bedroom. 

He yanked open his closet, pulled out a jacket, shrugged it on, and laced up his shoes. Before leaving, he collected his fishing poles and tackle box. 

He ended up driving out to Franklin Canyon Lake where he could be alone with his thoughts. He found an isolated spot and parked the Duesenberg, then set up. The absurdity of it didn’t escape him, sitting on the grassy edge of the lake getting the seat of his pants wet and dirtying up a $200 pair of leather shoes with a $9,500 car behind him.

He had been pretty drunk last night, but not so drunk he hadn’t known what he was doing when Nelly kissed him. She’d made the first move, but he’d been getting ready to beat her there. His thoughts had been returning to her all morning. He’d grown to like her and there wasn’t much question as to why. She was pretty for starters and she had a backbone, which he’d always liked in a girl. He was amused by her sense of pride. Her stakes also seemed very low. She didn’t want to be the leading lady in a romance or even the leading lady in one of his comedies, for that matter. No, it was fusty old Shakespeare she had her hopes pinned on. His first thought upon waking up, apart from lamenting how ferociously his head hurt, was that he wanted to see her again.

Nate’s sad, pretty little face at the breakfast table rose up in his mind and guilt gnawed. She deserved a husband who would be faithful to her; he did believe that with his whole heart, even though he couldn’t (Couldn’t or wouldn’t? hissed a part of him) make that sacrifice. It wasn’t fair of him to treat her the way he did, to be thinking of Nelly and how much he’d wanted her last night. Still, the selfish part of him objected stridently. He had needs too and didn’t he deserve to get them met? Hadn’t he tried his best to make things better before going outside of his marriage? Didn’t he still do his damndest to make Nate happy, what with the Villa and parties and letting her control the purse-strings?

The fishing was good as morning wore into afternoon and afternoon wore into evening, but he threw everything back. Gone were the days in Muskegon where Myra cooked everything he caught, frying the fish up in butter and cornmeal. Caruthers bought the fish and other meat fresh every day and it was usually exotic, skate fillets and swordfish and the like, not the humble trout and largemouth bass his line was currently fetching. When he tired of fishing, he got back in the car and drove home. He would miss dinner, but he wasn’t hungry. He parked in the garage and headed to the east wing, where he climbed the stairs to his balcony and let himself into his room, not wanting to come through the main entrance and risk encountering Natalie. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket and trousers on the floor, and crawled into bed. The hangover had caught up to him and he fell fast asleep. 

When he woke up, he had no idea where he was or what time it was. It took him a few seconds to remember the fishing trip, the fight, and the party. He grabbed the alarm clock on his bedside table and brought it up to his face. Almost nine o’clock. He’d slept for over two hours. He sat up, feeling groggy and hungry, and pulled his trousers back on. He padded into the hall. The house was dim, Caruthers having turned down the lights for the evening, and no trace of the previous evening’s festivities remained. He wondered if Nate had decided to go ahead with the barbecue tomorrow in spite of the fight. Even though he would have rather inspected the kitchen for leftovers, he passed the stairs and went on to the west wing. The door to Natalie’s bedroom was closed and he tapped on the door to announce himself before pushing quietly inside. 

Natalie was sitting up in bed in a blue satin nightgown and a matching translucent wrap reading an issue of Colliers. She didn’t look at him as he sat at the foot of the bed. “Hi,” he said, giving her toe beneath the covers a friendly tweak. She withdrew her foot and turned the page of her magazine. The cover advertised the new Zane Grey novel and was subtitled A Story of Love and Adventure in Arizona. 

He knit his hands in his lap. “I know you’re angry.”

No response. 

“I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“I love you.”

Only then did Natalie put down the magazine and look at him. “A fine way you’ve got of showing it.” The expression on her face was cold.

He stood up and climbed into the bed with her, making himself comfortable against the mound of pillows on the vacant side. It was a risky move, but she didn’t object. “I wanna make things work.”

Natalie scoffed. 

Her king bed felt as big as a steamliner compared to his double. Even if he had been permitted to sleep in the same bed with her, with its size there would have been no danger of them ever touching.

“You know I still care for you. I’ve never stopped.” Cautiously, he stroked her arm.

“You humiliated me,” she said, not looking at him. 

“I know. I deserve to be castrated.” He didn’t think he deserved any such thing, but she was letting him stroke her arm, so he went on.

“Does the whole world know you’re stepping out on me? That I’m not enough for you?” Her voice was trembly. 

He sighed. “I don’t think anyone noticed last night. We came from opposite ends of the house.”

“Yes,” she said tearily. “It was very clever of you. But I noticed.”

“Because you’re my wife. My wife who I love very much.” He threw caution to the wind and moved into her space, putting his arms around her and laying his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you.” She was rigid, but didn’t attempt to pull away.

“What will it take for you to treat me with respect then?” she said, reaching up to dash away a tear. 

Buster sighed again and nuzzled her shoulder. She smelled of flowers and baby powder. “I do respect you. You know what the problem is.”

The silence between them was heavy. After a while, Natalie said, “I could try again to like it, I guess.” She sniffled.

He looked at her, surprised. “Do you really mean that?”

She nodded. “I want us to be happy. I want Bobby and Jimmy to have a mother and a father. Under the same roof, that is.”

Apparently he hadn’t been the only one with the D word on his mind. “Okay,” he said, not quite believing she’d just said what she had. “Well, you know that would make me very happy.”

Natalie laid her hand on his forearm. “And you’d stay faithful to me, if …” She was so delicate, she trailed off instead of naming the unseemly act to which they both referred.

“Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“I don’t want to tonight,” she said, sounding almost frightened.

“I don’t expect you to.” He leaned up and kissed her cheek. “We can take things at your pace.”

“Okay,” she said. He felt her relax in his arms.

She permitted him to linger cuddling her a while longer, and when she kicked him out so she could sleep it was with a kiss.

Standing in the kitchen eating a shaved-beef sandwich a few minutes later, he felt like the tide was turning just a little. The cutting of Steamboat was going well. The barbecue was still on for tomorrow and those always cheered him up. Natalie had done better than just forgiven him for his indiscretion, she told him she was willing to resume their marital relations. Even so, once he’d taken a bath and was lying between his sheets in his silk pajamas, he couldn’t sleep. He was thinking about the night before and the girl who had attended in her rented dress and had thrown away his flask of whiskey. He remembered too that she’d cried when he filmed the facade scene Notes: Thank you for your patience, Buster kittens, as I adjusted to some big life changes the past week. My therapy is this story, though, so I’m back at it again! A couple notes: Buster and Natalie had servants called Connie and Eleanor, which is a little confusing given that Natalie’s sister Constance was sometimes called Connie and Buster found his happily ever after with an Eleanor. According to Myra Keaton, Buster never stopped loving Natalie, and I do think that he genuinely wanted their marriage to work. What do you think?

[listerious]

12 Vast Facts About The Patagonian Desert

One of the vastest landscapes in the world is a fascinating desert located in the utmost southern part of South America. Let's take a closer look at some of the most interesting facts about the Patagonian Deserts, a desolate, yet intriguing area in the world.

1. It's located within the borders of 3 countries

The Patagonian Desert is also referred to as the Patagonian Steppe and is a huge arid region located in the southern part of South America. Most of the desert is located in the Patagonia Region of Argentina and Chile, but the Falkland Islands, which are part of the United Kingdom, are also included. These islands are located on the so-called "Patagonian Shelf" in the South Atlantic Ocean. The desert is bounded on the west by the southern part of the Andes Mountains and the east by the Atlantic Ocean. The northern part of the desert transforms into Argentine Monte, one of the driest areas in the country, and the Cuyo, a mountainous area in Argentina famous for its wine production.

View of the desert / Jason Hollinger / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

2. This huge desert is the 8th-largest in the world

The desert is an enormously vast region that covers a total area of 673,000 square kilometers (260,000 square miles). This makes it the 8th-largest desert in the world (with the Antarctic and Arctic Deserts included). To give some reference to this number, the Sahara Desert (3rd in the world) covers an area of 9,200,000 square kilometers (3,552,140 square miles), and the Kalahari Desert (7th) an area of 900,000 square kilometers (347,492 square miles).

3. It features multiple natural wonders and a varied landscape

Even though some deserts are much larger, the landscape inside the Patagonian Desert appears to be extremely vast. That's mainly because most of the central part of the desert is a steppe consisting of apparently endless bushes, shrubs, and grasslands. The bushes and shrubs are located in the aridest areas of the desert. These are replaced by vast grasslands in places that the precipitation is slightly higher. Regardless of this notion, the desert features a varied landscape of plateaus, valleys, river canyons, and fascinating lakes of glacial origin, and massive mountains in the western part while approaching the Andes.

Road inside the desert / Deensel / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

4. It's a very cold place due to its southern location

When you hear the word "desert," you instantly get a mental image of sand and excruciating temperatures. This is not the case at all here because the Patagonian Desert is actually a cold winter desert. Especially the southern parts near Tierra del Fuego, the utmost southern tip of South America, are extremely cold with temperatures ranging from -3 °C to 3 °C (26.6°F to 37.4°F). This doesn't mean that every region inside the desert is this cold, though. The northern sections can have pretty enjoyable temperatures during the summer, especially in the Rio Colorado region. Here, temperatures between 26 °C to 29 °C (78.8°F to 84.2°F) are pretty common during the summer months.

5. The animals that live here mostly reside on the outskirts of the desert

Deserts are some of the harshest regions in the world for any type of life. That's why most animals and plants living and growing here have adapted very well to the arid conditions. Regardless, there aren't that many animals living here, and the ones that do live in the somewhat friendlier outskirts of the deserts, except on the farms built here for cattle. Some of these animals are native to the Patagonia Region such as the Patagonian weasel and the Patagonian gray fox. Others are common in other areas as well such as the burrowing owl, lesser rhea, pygmy armadillo, puma, and desert iguana. The desert iguana is also common in deserts in North America such as the Sonoran Desert and the Mojave Desert.

Some parts of the desert are suited for cattle / Wiki Commons

More interesting facts about the Patagonian Desert

6. The formation of the Patagonian Desert started about 14 to 12 million years ago during a geological epoch known as the Middle Miocene (23.03 and 5.333 million years ago). Before this period, it's very probably that the region was covered with an abundance of temperate forests, but because the Andes was lifted, the region became too arid and turned into the desolate desert landscape we see today. 7. One of the most fascinating features inside the desert is the so-called "petrified forest." These are fossils of a forest that existed here millions of years ago. The trees that grew here back then were primitive forms of conifers and palm trees. It's one of the best-preserved of its kind in the world and is located in the central part of the desert, just south of the town of Sarmiento. It has been preserved so well because of ashes from nearby volcanoes that emerged when the Andes rose.

Part of the petrified forest / Eassi / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0 8. Around the year 1900, European settlers started inhabiting the less arid regions of the Patagonian Desert. These replaced the pre-hispanic hunter-gatherers that had lived here for thousands of years. Because of the large number of pre-dominantly Welsh, Argenitne, and European farmers migrating here, the area transformed into the most productive export regions related to sheep products. 9. Many parts of the region look extremely dusty, and that's because they are. The arid conditions in combination with the cool mountain air from the Andes create a fascinating phenomenon. The desert winds transports massive amounts of dust over the South Atlantic Ocean. A similar effect is created by winds coming from the Sahara Desert which transports dust all the way to countries in Europe. 10. The mountainous areas inside the desert mostly consist of volcanic rocks. These cover an estimated 120,000 square kilometers (46,332 square kilometers) of the desert. Most of these can be found in the Somún Cura Massif (North Patagnian Massif) and the Deseado Massif.

Mountains inside the desert / Wiki Commons 11. The protected area inside the desert covers about 70,970 square kilometers (27,401 square miles). The most important are located within preserves such as the Perito Moreno National Park, Patagonia Azul Biosphere Reserve, and Valdes Biosphere Reserve. 12. Even though the Desert itself isn't exactly a popular tourist attraction, there are several towns on the eastern side of the desert that have become popular tourist destinations. That's mainly because of the huge beaches with fine sand that are perfect for sunbathing and water sports. One of the most popular tourist destinations here is called "Rada Tilly," a coastal town with a beach that extends 4.5 kilometers (2.8 miles) along the Atlantic Ocean.

Rada Tilly Beach / Nestor Galina / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en Read the full article

[stillebesat]

What's in a Dream?

Seriously. Tell me. Because I have been having quite the week of crazy dreams vivid enough for me to remember them days later and they've been....stressing me out a bit. It's hard to get a restful night's sleep when you dream like this.

Dreams I've had under cut because of length:

Tuesday Night: We were in the middle of nowhere. Desert sort of landscape. The place where three dirt roads came together. My siblings and I were 'camping' and had pulled over to investigate an old camper trailer that had been left to rot. Typical 'weathered, been sitting here exposed to the elements for ages' type of wear and tear. It was basically a skeleton of a trailer. There was even an old mattress off to the side in the dirt that was more bedsprings than mattress. Mom was there and was like "Okay, let's get in the car." so my siblings and I (3 of us) got in the car/camper and Mom started heading towards the edge of a cliff. As we were more in redrock country now/kinda on the edge of like a Grand Canyon sort of viewpoint. And I was like "Mom, you need to brake" and she was like "I'm just turning around." But she hit the brakes too late and I closed my eyes and steeled myself as the car skidded over the edge of the cliff. Because my eyes were closed I only felt the swooping sensation of falling. But when I opened my eyes again somehow the entire family had got ejected from the car before it crashed somewhere at the bottom and we landed on the side of the red sandstone cliffs which turned out to have a bit of a trail -a sketchy trail with plenty of open air where you had to edge along the side of the cliff and risk a couple of jumps over open air in order for all of us to make it safely back to the top of the cliff. My main injury was a large rose thorn that had embedded itself just above my elbow on my left arm. I pulled it out, leaving a large puncture wound there, as my phone rang. When I picked up it was my "Dad" on video call (said Dad looked like Thomas Sanders) and he was frantically packing a suitcase on the bed -throwing white clothing around- as he was talking to me reassuring me that he was on his way to rescue us and that we're all going to be fine and he'll be on the next flight over.

Wednesday Night: I was with other people in a Aquarium/University/Mall conglomerate building. The idea was to go see a show. Whether it was a movie in the theater or a show in the Aquarium is unclear, but while I was trying to grab food from the food court, someone like a 'big boss' Fury sort of figure informed me that I was a criminal and that they were trying to capture me. So instead of enjoying a show, my life got turned upside down and I had to run away from my family and friends because I didn't know who to trust and I was haphazardly trying to gather 'supplies' because I was like only 15 or so in the dream and didn't have access to everything regular adults did so I was scrambling to find money and gather clothing and my photographer cousin ended up running into me while I was on my college campus and secretly trying to help me out, but we couldn't meet for long as I was constantly running through the hallway like areas between buildings filled with grass and trees and windows that you could look inside to the classrooms and such.

Thursday Night: Me and a guy were walking along the banks of a pond when we saw this male figure (who looked kinda like the human version of Frankenstein from Hotel Transylvania 4) with half his body covered in a grey/brown mud dragging himself along the bank like a zombie sort of creature. He was doing this in a successful attempt to scare me and the other guy away from the reeds of the pond/lake we were at because (POV switch) I -the square jawed handsome guy- had just killed my wife. How I killed her? No idea. Her body (she looked like the mother from Gilmore Girls) looked like she'd been lounging on the couch and had just died. One hand propped under her head, a smile still fixed on her face even as her unseeing eyes stared at me. But there were no signs of injuries. No obvious cause of death. She was just dead. And me -the husband- decided the best way to hide the body would be to bury her in mud in the reeds of a lake, but as I was finishing the burial, I could hear this couple walking nearby, so I smeared mud on the left side of my body and began dragging myself over to them to act like a ghost or zombie so that it would scare them away. But (POV switch) I -the girl- decided that I'd had enough of creepy zombie people and returned to my dormitory (which reminded me of Hogwarts) to change my clothes and return to class. Only, when I tried to go take a shower, the girls showers were full. So I decided that I would go get clean in the boy's area. So I walked, basically naked with only a towel covering my bottom half but my top exposed through the hallways filled with guys who were standing there flummoxed that I was walking around like that and that I didn't seem to care (I did, I was just putting on an act) that I was walking around half naked in their presence.

Friday Night: I was in my bedroom, which was located on the North side of the house/apartment I lived in. I was in a basement room, in the back corner of the house with the driveway next to one window, and the backyard was behind the west one. I could hear a guy outside moving around and occasionally going into the backyard to 'do his business' aka pee on our walls. It turns out some college guy was using the driveway -which was between my house and the neighbor's house (but reminded me of my grandmother's driveway up in Wyoming) as a camping spot with a tent and everything. Which we couldn't have him there because we kinda needed the driveway to park our cars in, and when my roommate A came downstairs to talk to me about the issue, we heard the guy come down behind the house again to pee on our walls, but when he finished there was a cop there who arrested him for trespassing, but also ended up arresting Roommate A because apparently the 'special insect killer' pesticide she used to protect the plants growing on the side of our house carried an ingredient that was spelled something like "Beilium" and that was in fact a poison to humans so the cops thought that she was purposely planning to kill people because as the college students of the forensic's class told us when at least four of them descended on me and Roommate A and Roommate T that in our applications to live in the place we'd put various gothic things like ...idk... "Love tombstones, Wanna dance on graves. Best roommates are the dead ones." etc. But all three of us had filled these out in that way just to show that we had a different sort of humor compared to the other people in the area as we didn't want just 'anyone' to join us in the house to be our roommate and so the three of us had to convince these college aged investigator people that we weren't actual killers, and this was happening in my room/the kitchen so I was puttering around and grabbed a beaded bracelet of like a phoenix where the bird was 3D in beads sitting on top of the bracelet, but the bracelet was made of a tinfoil/blanket material and it folded out and became this big blanket and I was struggling to fold it back up into it's original bracelet shape (I think the colors were red and silver? maybe gold?) but it refused to fold that small and end up covering like my entire arm instead of just my wrist. I ended up giving up in favor of us taking the college students -who were outside with us talking about where they were meeting for their college graduation and basically saying "we don't know but we'll know when we know" as the closing ceremony would be happening 'soon' but first we would go grab a bite to eat and we cycled through the options but I ended up seeing Roommate A/ my sister sitting at a table of an 'Arby's so we went inside to order food to continue our discussion, but as we sat at the table the lights around us flashed three times. Which was code for "Active Shooter in the building." Everyone around us froze, counting the flashes and such and when I looked up there was a 'gunman' standing in front of the counter, with two fast food workers in black standing among the customers seated around eating their food trying to talk the gunman down. There was a buzzing in my ears making it so I couldn't understand what the shooter was saying, but the basic gist was that he would ask each person a question and if they didn't answer it right, he would shoot them. So there was "Garbled question" then BANG. Garbled question. Another BANG. And I was staring at my Cousin A who was sitting at the very front with wide eyes staring at the gunman as he turned to her to ask her a question---

Saturday Night: I had just arrived at work and was preparing to go clean the cat adoption center, only as I came into the room it turned out the adoption group we were partnered with had dropped off like 40 cats/kittens into the room. But instead of trying to fit them all into the ten cages we had, they'd placed like maybe twelve of them in the cages and then left the rest of the cats out to freely roam around the tiny adoption area, though the group had left their traveling carriers around with the doors open so the cats could seek shelter if needed,but they'd left the door to the adoption center open as well meaning that the cats could have free access to the rest of the store. However for whateve reason they had basically stuck to their enclosure. So I didn't have to worry about finding any cats elsewhere they were in this area. And one of the cats was this adorable black kitten that, when it moved, the light would catch on the fur reflecting a shimmering green peacock coloration. (the eyes on the feathers) in the fur. The kitty even had some peacock feathers along its tail. And I knew my sister would love this cat as she loves peacocks and wanted to get a cat but couldn't because her husband didn't want one, but I pulled out my phone to try and take a picture of the kitty to send to her to see if this would be the cat that would finally convince her to go ahead and get a cat, only I couldn't get a good picture because all these people kept coming into the store. First it was a huge class of like pre-schoolers/kindergartners. Then it was a group of older adults with special needs, as well as a group of people who looked to have come from a nursing home, and each group tried to come into the adoption area -which was filthy because there were cats out of their cages so there was cat littler everywhere and some of it had gotten wet from spilled water bowls and mixed from spilled food bowls so it wasn't the safest/cleanest place to be at the moment as I hadn't had time to clean the room yet. And to top it off, it was only like 7:30 in the morning. So we weren't even OPEN yet. We didn't open until NINE. So I had to fend off each group -which all had the same feisty Karen woman (who looked like our 'favorite' red headed regular customer we get into the store (she's difficult to work with)) and inform them that they couldn't be in the store at this time because we were still closed and for their safety they would need to leave. So I had to tell the group of thirty children and their six adult minders, and then the group of special needs visitors with their tenders, and then the group of nursing home people and their nurses that we were CLOSED and to leave and NONE of them were happy to hear that. But like...they were the ones who'd snuck into the building through the door of our vet clinic and not through the main store doors. So I told them to come back later. That no they couldn't see the cats as I couldn't have them in the room while I was cleaning, and that they needed to leave. No one was happy to hear that, and in the process somewhere i lost my phone and found it again in a classroom. But as I was trying to gather the supplies to clean the cages while sending people away these two girls approached me looking for replacement lightbulbs for their reptile cages and they couldn't find them. Which...we still weren't open for the day, but I ended up leading them to a little outside giftshop area where we kept our Christmas decorations -leading them through a random loading dock area filled with people working on stocking the store and such- and showed them where the lightbulbs were -though I didn't see them at first as they'd changed locations and I only found them as we were about to head down the stairs and back outside- so I was showing each customer the lightbulbs they would need for their individual lamps----

And yah....

Those are the dreams I've had this past week.

Overall my takeaway is that every aspect of my life is somehow stressing me out currently. Yaaaay.

[jeanjauthor]

(Made up bit heavily inspired by bit with much much better women’s rights) In England late mediveal or early renaissance time, how would I put a bridge on a very large and wide river that large ships like cogs and big carraks can get under? I’d like to keep to that time period as closely as possible (but with different women’s rights) but I realised I need big carraks and cogs to go up a river I need many bridges on. Would swing bridges do? What would those be made of in those times? Stone?Wood?

eGood to know! Presuming a world without magic...if it's late medieval / early renaissance, just use drawbridges.

Understand that your boats will have to be smaller than most seagoing vessels. However,that doesn't mean they cannot be quite useful, and it doesn't mean they cannot be sailboats; they can! They just need to be more slender and shorter--not just to navigate between the central support pillars for said drawbridges, but also simply to navigate the twists and turns of any river.

This particular scene from the BBC's Edwardian Farm series has an example of just such a boat: https://youtu.be/obIWqJlxniY?t=1030 You should watch it, even though they're actually just discussing using quicklime to neutralize the acidity of the local soils, and how they're importing coal for use in burning in the lime kilns.

The most important feature of the scene for our discussion is how it shows the size of cargo ship that would sail up a slow, calm river. The various boats that sailed up and down the Yangtze River, the Nile, Hudson River, the Mississippi, the gazillion waterways of the Amazon and more, all of these had a lot of river-based commerce. Even the canals of Angkor Wat had a great deal of commerce via boat.

In some cases, such as at Angkor Wat, they would have had stevedores (dockworkers) standing by at bridge causeways that boats couldn't cross. These workers would literally offload cargo from one canal boat, carry it a few yards across the street to the next canal's boat, load it there, and send it on its way along a different canal system. (You'd have to see how the roads and canals at Angkor Wat were built to understand this system.) In other locations, they would have boat-pontoons serving as a floating bridge that could be unlashed and moved out of the way so that cargo ships could cross, and there would often be regular times for these switchups to occur.

But if you're dealing with late medieval / renaissance levels of ingenuity, then winches, gears, capistans, etc, would all be a part of their canal system, with broad, stoutly made drawbridges being drawn up and lowered down at regular points in the day.

Some of these pulley systems could be animal-powered (horse, mule, oxen, whatever), or it could be a wheel that a man would walk along, kind of like a hamster wheel, such as the kind found here: https://youtu.be/s46qP1l39V8?t=628 Though it's a long zoom in, you can see toward the end there are actual humans inside thos wheels, walking slowly to raise and lower whatever needs to get up to the building site. A drawbridge system would be no different.

You can also use folding masts. Since you're not dealing with a specific real-world place-and-time, you can borrow from other eras and traditions, including ancient historical methods, such as the bipod mast: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipod_mast These were used as far back as the 3rd millenium BCE to sail up and down the Nile...which admittedly didn't have bridges to sail under, but the stability of the bipod mast made it easy to lay it down without overbalancing the ship.

With some clever hinges and pulleys and gears, a Renaissance shipmaster could make a system that would allow the sails to be quickly brought down...though to maintain forward motion when going upstream, they'd probably have to pay a lining service a fee to line the ship upstream. Here's an example of how to line a canoe upstream along a river from Far North Bushcraft And Survival: https://youtu.be/ZQ7940-M5mM

This is literally the same system used to maneuver canal barges upstream (and down!), powered by horsepower, literal horses, donkeys, mules, oxen, etc. This particular scene from the Victorian Farm series shows one such canal barge being used to deliver a load of coal, as they would've done in the Victorian era: https://youtu.be/Ccjyt7BQEVU?t=1374 In the scene, they talk about how it's "...a fly boat, going day and night; they change out the horses..." to indicate that these were in constant use. You can see how there's a path built under the bridge for the horse to walk along.

The barge would be manned and steered in most cases, since that's easier than doing it manually by the two-line method, but they'd still probably have two lines on the boat in most instances, in case the helmsman fell asleep, or there was a change in the current, etc. There would also be strict "lanes" for upstream versus downstream traffic, ideally with walkways on each side so as to keep the lines from tangling--this would be in use in areas with really flat slow/sluggish water, not enough room to use galley oars, not enough room to set sails, yet you still want your cargo to head downstream at more than a snail's pace with the natural current (ideal for big cities).

Small barges could also be poled like the gondolae of Venice, but again, that's small barges, since there's only so much effort poling can manage before it becomes nigh impossible not only to get up to speed, but also to slow down to make a turn, to stop, etc. So consider if your river is slow, if it's a series of canals, how many bridges there are, what sort of workforce there might be for loading & unloading, and for portaging.

To portage is to go around an obstacle that a boat (of whatever size) cannot safely manage. The most famous portages were done by the voyageurs of the fur trade in Canada, where they'd come upon a stretch of rapids too dangerous to traverse or have to leave the river they're on to go in the direction they need to get to the next river or lake system, etc. At that point, the fur trappers/canoers would get out, offload their cargo, and carry it and their canoes--sometimes for miles!--to the next navigable stretch of water...and most cases they'd have to set up camp when they got there, then go back for everything that got left behind, and haul all of that to the new spot.

In many cases in the wilderness, they'd leave 1-2 behind to guard said provisions, etc, either at the offloading site or the final destination site. But if you're dealing with a civilized/settled area, they wouldn't necessarily have to do that, but might instead arrange passage with wagoners / caravaners, the people who got paid to transport river-shipped goods between two points overland.

There are also the possibilities for canal locks (the ancient Romans had a precursor to the system we know of today) as well, but it honestly depends on how much that region has decided to put in the effort to dig and construct and manage them. If it's wealthy, has a history of innovation, and/or relies heavily upon river commerce, then it's quite possible. But most likely, drawbridges and folding masts are going to be ideal.

Just remember that those ships and masts are not going to be designed to withstand open-ocean travel or hurricane force winds, nor to carry hundreds of tons. River ships are not going to be the same as ocean or sea going vessels. For example:

"During the time of King Philip II's reign (1556-98), the Spanish galleon increased in size and capacity. For example, while the earlier galleons had capacities for 120 toneladas (Spanish tons), the post-1560 galleons tended to cross thresholds of 330 toneladas." (https://www.realmofhistory.com/2019/06/07/galleon-spanish-warship-facts/ )

Or: "...a typical American barge measures 195 by 35 feet (59.4 m × 10.7 m), and can carry up to about 1,500 short tons (1,400 t) of cargo." (from the entry on Barges, Wikipedia)

These might seem like good resources, but those galleons are oceanic vessels far too large and/or deeply drafted for river navigation, and those barges are modern ones meant for the lower Mississippi River. The latter are also powered by engines, not by wind, oar, or musclepower (animals or humans lining the boat along the riverbank).

Unless your river is huge--at which point ferries will be your ideal method of crossing, rather than bridges--your river-running ships will be small, sleek, relatively shallow drafted, will most likely have collapsing sails, oars for windless days, ropes for lining (even if their own crew has to do it), so on and so forth.

...You can still have bridges without drawbridges, if your river runs through a canyon deep enough that the bridge will clear the masts naturally, or your engineers invest in long, long, long ramps leading up to and over the central arch spanning the deepest part of the river...and invest in lots of riprap (rocks specifically placed for lining the banks of the river to prevent erosion, etc). Unfortunately, most rivers flowing through canyons flow too fast and hard to make good safe transportation routes...and really tall bridges exhaust humans and animals alike in passing over them, so...it's not very likely.

One last consideration: the river itself. Here is a snippet of a video I took when I had the opportunity to go on a Rhein River Cruise (Viking Cruiseline). The cruisehip is docked. It is not moving.

The Rhein really does flow this fast (up near Switzerland, iirc, but all throughout the trip as well), and it only slowed down somewhat at certain points. The banks in the city zones (and even much of the countryside) are lined with riprap (stones fitted and cemented into place to control the river flow and prevent erosion), and yes, there were a few canal locks along the route. A lot of that riprap was laid in earlier centuries, some of it late renaissance (and much of it repaired since then).

We were warned that if there was a lot of rain during our trip (this trip took place in May) causing a lot of runoff to flow into the river, there was a bridge downstream (near the Netherlands) where we might actually have to disembark from this ship literally cross the street for that bridge, and get onto another cruise ship on the downstream side of the bridge. Why? Because if the river level rose too much, this ship would not be able to cross under that bridge.

Now, the ship's top deck was disassembled to pass under other bridges. It literally had awnings and roofs on hinges that could be lowered to as flat as possible...and yet there was still a bridge they knew they couldn't pass under if the river level rose too high. Even with modern tech, etc, there will be obstacles like this.

So consider that for your rivers and your commerce. In spring and autumn, the water might run too high, perhaps even too wild, for safe & easy river travel. Portaging might be the answer. Or your characters might be crossing over the bridge which has an angry river crew arguing with the city guard about why they can't take their ship under the bridge (because it could damage the bridge, it's the wrong season, etc).

...You can also have droughts (oftentimes in high summer) which could cause the river to become too shallow for boats to pass in certain sections, or they'll have to lighten their cargo to avoid getting mired in the mud, etc.

And if your story is set in a region with cold winters, snow, ice, etc...the river might freeze. This poses a whole host of transportation problems, but then transport wasn't often done in the depths of winter, save maybe for foods brought from the storage barns of local farms. If the rivers don't freeze over, water travel is still possible, though hypothermia is still a danger.

If they freeze only a little bit, still possible...but once the ice gets thick along the edges, it becomes dangerous to try to "cut" through the ice with a boat of any size. This can include ice that is too thick to get the boat close enough to shore to exchange cargo and/or passengers, but also the possibility of ice actually damaging a ship's hull.

And of course merely walking on the ice is sheer danger, unless you know exactly what to look for, how deep it needs to be, etc, to be crossed safely--the idyllic picture of the Dutch ice skating along their canals doesn't cover the fact that many people fell through the ice because they hit a stretch that was too thin to support their weight. Certainly history doesn't tell us exactly how many perished, though logic assures us that many surely did--either idiots who didn't check the ice depth, or who were young and recklessly brave enough to be foolhardy, an unexpected warming of the water coming downstream thinning out the ice in a specific spot in the channel, etc, etc, etc.

River boat crews would be aware of such potential dangers, and would not want to travel in icy conditions if it was at all avoidable. Which brings us to living on a riverboat, and how to keep warm in winter when the hull is literally in constant contact with icy cold water...but that's another discussion entirely. If the canals are in constant use, the water "might not" freeze over because it'd be constantly disturbed by the passage of all those boats...but it also could, especially if a bad winter storm shut down travel for a few days.

Mostly, river boats would be lifted out of the water if at all possible before the river iced over (which the locals would know about). Why? Because ice expands, and it would expand horizontally into those hulls, cracking them. Water and ice are incredibly powerful forces that we often underestimate. This means that winter is the time when boats would be brought ashore, tipped onto their sides, the hulls scraped free of river mussels and barnacles and whatnot, sections would be repaired, the hulls re-tarred, and other maintenance issues tended to.

If river commerce slows or stops in the winter due to ice issues, then you'll have wagons and/or sleighs, etc, bringing in the goods...but again, your horses or other draft animals will have a harder time working in cold weather. Your cities will therefore want most of their goods brought into the city's storehouses before winter falls, if it's an area with harsh winters.

If they're just rainy and wet and miserable for the most part (*cough* the greater Seattle region (*cough*)...then flooding will be your biggest concern. If it's a region with seasonal droughts & monsoons...you could have a whole host of problems, but you'd also probably want retention ponds and lakes to help keep the river flowing--fill them up in the stormy season and let out some of that water in the dry season to keep the river at a hopefully passable depth.

Bridges (and drawbridges), boats, and rivers are all part and parcel with the equation.

One more thing, if your local region is building a bridge in the story (a common occurrence in the renaissance in many towns), it doesn't have to be a part of the story directly, but can be mentioned second-hand, like one of your characters can say, "avoid the Baker's Bridge--remember, they're doing repairwork on it."

If this is a thing you want to toss into the story (it makes your town feel alive, a growing and changing thing, without having to go into exhaustive detail), then remember that the architects will have hopefully taken all the shipping and transportation needs into account...but that section of the river or canal will be blocked by scaffolding, requiring everyone to portage around it. If it is a river split in two by an island, or it's a canal shooting off from or paralleling the main river, you'll still be able to have commerce up and down the river, but it will cause that river travel to be thicker and more prone to clogs, blockages, accidents, arguments, etc.

These are little details you can put into your story to give your world more depth without having to go into exhaustive detail.

Good luck, and I hope at least some of that helped!

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 13 Part 2

Nearly made it to Alpha Centauri!

Warnings for this chapter: the terrifying vastness of space; vertigo; and more child endangerment than we’ve seen so far.

Link to next part at the end.

(From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 13, cont.

Of all the infinite spaces they’d found themselves in recently, this one truly made each of them feel small.

Nebulae crackled in the corner of their eyes. Comets sparked across the heavens like distant fireworks. There were stars, billions upon billions of stars, a riotous tumble of them. And planets, cold and grand, passing by like ships.

Aziraphale had never been here before. For the life of him, he had no idea why. No - perhaps he was afraid of the vastness. Of feeling engulfed.

He leaned, half-consciously, towards Crowley. Their fingers brushed. Slowly, as if moving underwater, Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hand.

Aziraphale tore his eyes away from the magnitude of space and looked at Crowley. He was in profile, lips slightly parted. His eyes shone with starlight. Aziraphale wanted to kiss him and keep watching him forever. He remembered Crowley had probably seen this room before. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of years in the past. Perhaps it hit him harder to come back than Aziraphale to see it for the first time.

“Did I ever mention I helped build some of these?” Crowley whispered.

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale whispered back. His heart brimmed over.

He happened to know the only part of Her creation missing from this room was the Earth. That was because it was on the top floor. He saw it the last time he presented his weekly report to Gabriel, floating in the air like a large, sedate disco ball. They would all use it in three days' time to transport themselves to Earth for Armageddon. Every angel in Christendom, pouring out of the sky.

Aziraphale peered around. There didn’t seem to be much of a filing system in here. Maybe all he had to do was…

“Alpha Centauri?” he said.

It was like going for a gentle stroll and accidentally stepping off a skyscraper.

Space lurched. The detritus of the universe streaked towards him, and past him before he could think about screaming. Two blue dots came out of the darkness like all-knowing eyes that meant the end of all things. They expanded until they were the size of suns, filling his vision, pinning him under their gaze, until with a heart-stopping wrench -

It all stopped.

Space was still again. The binary star system of Alpha Centauri lay before them, winking blue.

Aziraphale shook off the feeling he’d just freefall dived from a million miles up. He glimpsed Crowley’s face, and got a sudden idea of what it must have felt like for him, before all this happened. The Fall. He squeezed Crowley’s hand. Crowley’s eyes were glazed. Slowly, he came back to himself and squeezed back.

Aziraphale remembered, a fraction later than he should have, to check on Adam.

The boy’s face was white with exhilaration. “Wicked,” he whispered to himself.

Spacedog yipped and scratched his flank with his cybernetic back leg. His ears jiggled inside his fishbowl helmet. He didn’t look impressed. Aziraphale supposed he was made for this environment. Then he went back to deliberately ignoring Spacedog, because while Spacedog’s existence was remarkable, Aziraphale found him far too ridiculous to dwell on.

“We want Proxima Centauri B,” he said.

This time they all braced themselves. There was a relatively short, painless lurch forward as the room zoomed in on the planet orbiting one sun, Proxima Centauri. The planet was pockmarked like porous stone. It turned ponderously in the light from its star.

“Oh!” Crowley leaned forward in wonder. He pointed down at the craggy little planet. “I remember this! This one was one of mine.”

Aziraphale watched him puff out his chest and smiled.

“Yup. I totally helped with this one. Well. I looked over the plans. Well. I graffitied a rude word in some space dust.” Crowley paused. “They probably took it out.”

“How lovely,” Aziraphale said, dryly.

This was it. Triumph rang through his head. He was about to become an outer space fugitive. He couldn’t believe they’d got this far. There was only one step left, and they were home free. Or… not home. Not yet. But definitely free.

“Crowley, do you trust me?”

Crowley’s head snapped round. “That’s a funny question at this stage,” he said, sounding perturbed.

“Sorry. I need to be sure, though, or this next part won’t work.”

Crowley’s golden eyes regarded him.

“I trust you, angel.”

Aziraphale turned to face him. Crowley did the same, mirroring him. Aziraphale caught his other hand, holding them both, bare and gloved.

“Fuse with me.”

Relief lifted Crowley’s face.

“Oh, thank Satan. I was worried for a moment.”

Aziraphale gave a chuckle. “Sorry for being dramatic. I wasn’t -”

He broke off. He hadn’t been sure. If Crowley had truly forgiven him, yet. It would be understandable if he needed more time.

Apparently not. Crowley was attempting to loosen up in the receptionist’s tailored trousers. He stretched his inhumanly bendy spine, wiggled his snaky hips. It would have been rather alluring if Crowley wasn’t, as Aziraphale well knew, an awful dancer. It still was quite alluring, actually.

“Remember how to do this?” Crowley grinned.

“Of course. Like riding a velocipede.”

Crowley groaned and laughed. He began… a kind of shimmy, Aziraphale supposed. It was very wriggly. It had a slight drunk-wedding-guest-cum-gay-bar aspect, not that he’d been to a wedding or a gay bar in over eighty years.

Now that push came to shove, he felt rather foolish doing this in front of an audience. He avoided looking anywhere near Adam and broke into a modified Gavotte.

They danced towards each other. They were taking it slower than the urgency of the situation asked for, if he was being honest. But it was thrilling, the build up without touching, the coy flashes of eye contact. Aziraphale felt Crowley’s body heat through his silk blouse. Crowley’s long, skinny chest wiggled inches away from him. His gem glowed softly, like it was warming up.

Aziraphale clasped his arm, and his own gem flared.

They melted together.

Zadkiel stumbled out, wide-eyed and flushed.

“Wow. I need to get a room.”

He noticed Adam.

“Ummmm. Hello there. We’ve sort-of met, sort-of haven’t. I’m Zadkiel.” He held out his hand.

Adam glared as he took it. Some weird grown-up stuff had just happened, and he was ready to zip away from it at the speed of light.

“They just… turned into you,” he said.

“Yup.”

“They’re really bad dancers.”

“So am I!”

“Right. Why’d they do that, then?”

“Well… they’ve been apart for a while, and while they’re not human, as you know, er, I know for your species the whole dancing thing can be something of a mating ritual… has anyone ever given you the Talk?”

Adam looked deeply disgusted.

“Why’d they turn into you?” he asked, in slow, measured tones.

“Oh! So they can’t track us.” Zadkiel flashed a grin. “The people we’re running away from can tell whenever Aziraphale or Crowley use their powers - their alien powers, that is - but I don’t show up on their, errr, alien scanner things. So they can’t follow us to Proxima Centauri.”

This was going to require a lot of discipline, he realised. If they wanted to be good intergalactic space fugitives - and Zadkiel absolutely did - there would have to be no more performing of miracles unless fused from now on. One thoughtless snap of the fingers from either of them, and it would all be over. Zadkiel hoped the other two were up to it.

He squared up to the orbiting planet below.

“Enough explanation. It’s time to go. Are you ready?”

Adam nodded. The blue lights of Alpha Centauri shone in his eyes.

“Brilliant. Hold on to my arm and don’t let go no matter what.”

Adam scooped up Spacedog,[1] along with the Book, and looped his spare arm through Zadkiel’s. He may have shown up unexpectedly, but he was a reassuringly large presence.

Zadkiel performed the ritual on himself and Adam. Nobody needed to leave their gems behind accidentally at this stage. He guessed it would be messy in Adam’s case.

“Here we go -”

Zadkiel reached out.

His fingertips dissolved as they neared the planet. Then his whole body melted into a stream of atoms, and this really was a freefall, dimensions compressing around him, his body stretching back miles, stars streaking across his vision. He was made of mist and he was rushing through a cold tunnel faster than any living thing had ever moved

~*~

They popped out at the other end, mouths agape like fish.

The first thing was the silence.

It was crushing and absolute. It was the silence of a void. A sea of darkness full of pinpricks of light that only made the darkness more infinite. He remembered, from two different perspectives, rowing across a lake that had been like this.

Then, the planet.

It spread out below him. A hard, mountainous, canyon-pocked waste-scape. He could see where it curved, the crescent of light like the rind of an orange. He could see the shimmering corona of its atmosphere. He could see the granite and sandstone and marsh-coloured patches of its body, all merging like a paintbox left out in the rain.

He had never seen anything like it. A new world. Untouched. Alien.

He had to admit it was a cracking view.

Adam’s fingers dug into his arm. The green dog yipped at a hysterical pitch.

Zadkiel looked down at the boy and noticed the third thing.

Adam gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. He stared into Zadkiel’s eyes, terrified, as his lips turned blue.

---

[1] Neither of Zadkiel’s components knew what to make of the dog. They’d each secretly hoped that fusing would bring some wisdom on the subject. Zadkiel was happy to report: nope. The dog thing was really weird.

(Link to next part)

[katy-l-wood]

Sensory Notes 1: Backpacking

Okay, I don’t quite have the full write-up of my big backpacking/hunting trip done yet. But! I do have another thing from the trip y’all might find interesting.

One of my biggest issues in writing is describing the world well (I usually get it in there by the third or fourth draft, but first draft? Nope.) So, to try and kickstart my brain into better description land I’ve started making sensory lists whenever I’m in a new place/doing a new thing. Been doing it for about a year and it is quite fun and very helpful. If anyone else finds these helpful I can post more!

Feel free to use these as prompts/details for your own writing if you like!

Setting: Colorado, Meeker Flattops Wilderness, Wilderness, Tundra-ish, Pine Forests, Extinct Volcano, Camping, Backpacking, Elevations between 9,000 and 11,500 feet, trail that less than 100 people hike every year because it is that hard and that far out.

Also, trigger warning for animal death mention in one of these bullet points. I put them as numbers so you can skip it if needed. It’s number 43.

Dirt caked in your palm lines, not just in your nails. Like the Earth is trying to make your future extra clear.

The blood rush/dizziness you get when you take off your heavy pack. You almost feel like you’re about to float away, and your first few steps are rather wobbly.

The sting of blisters forming as your sock rubs you the wrong way, but you can’t do anything about it because to fix it you’d have to stop and take off your pack and then your shoes and socks, maybe drag out a first aid kit, then get it all packed up and put back on. Better to just power through and deal with it at camp.

The smallness you feel staring at a 360degree view of canyons and valleys and mountains. There’s so much world out there, fading away in atmospheric mist in every direction.

The acknowledgement of a wildfire, but knowing it’s far enough off in the distance to never effect you.

The violently colored flowers in hues that almost seem unnatural. Like near ultra-violet daisies.

The sound of the wind racing around the mountains, even though it isn’t hitting your area, is a constant background noise.

The steady, building burn in your muscles. It hits your thighs and lungs going uphill, and your calves and thighs going down.

Your heart racing at speeds you didn’t know it could get to. That it probably SHOULDN’T get to.

Your chest demanding air but it never feels like it can expand enough.

The momentary blip of “well fuck” when your boot slips on some loose rock on a cliff trail.

The clean, empty taste of volcanic spring water. Makes you taste all the minerals and purifiers in tap water quite a bit more when you get back.

The strange sense of security you get being in your tent at night, even though it doesn’t offer much actual protection against large critters.

The annoyingly confined feeling of a mummy bag when normally you sprawl out all over the place when sleeping.

Having your limbs go numb from dehydration and over exertion. Shaking and tingling and your hands feel like clubs. Takes ages for you to fully come back together.

The indescribable feeling you get standing at the edge of a volcanic crater lake that no one has ever found the bottom of. Dipping your toes in feels like inviting something ancient into yourself.

The color of a volcanic crater lake isn’t like any other alpine lake. It’s a deep crystal blue with an undertone of green, especially around the edges.

Hearing a cracking in the forest at night when you’re about to go to the bathroom and deciding you don’t really need to shit THAT bad.

Waking up to the chattering of squirrels that are very annoyed about the placement of your tent.

Watching a little hummingbird mistaking all your brightly colored camping equipment for flowers. He’s so rarely seen people he doesn’t care about them and will land right on you.

Sweat running down your back like a garden hose on a hard hike.

Never quite knowing the right path when going off trail. Is this way going to have a log that’s too big to get over? Will it get too steep? Where can you safely put your feet?

Your lips slowly chapping and cracking as you dehydrate. You know you shouldn’t lick them but you can’t help it.

Breathing through your nose when going uphill is not an option. Not much of an option going downhill either.

The warmth of cooking a good freeze dried meal pack is almost better than the meal itself. Curling up around it as it cooks, soaking up the heat.

There is no way to get completely comfortable at night. You wake up and shuffle around constantly throughout the night.

The freedom of having a warm enough night that you can unzip your sleeping bag and use it like a regular blanket rather than being constricted all night.

The sting of a cut on the tip of your finger. It isn’t much more than a paper cut, but you can’t stop bumping it and opening it up again, and you know it’s been jammed full of dirt long before you could ever get the neosporin and bandaids out.

You’re vaguely aware that you smell terrible, but it built up so slowly you don’t quite notice. Until you stick your head inside your sleeping bag and then OH BOY.

The constant annoyance of bugs eventually fades and then you find yourself staring at the mosquitoes figuring every good hiking trip needs a blood sacrifice or two.

The slow building burn of the sun baking your feet inside your boots.

The little jarring up your arm as the metal tip of your hiking pole hits rock.

The ease of getting lost because you never bothered looking behind you when walking in and wow it all looks different once you turn around.

The lurch you feel in your gut as you stand in the edge of a cliff, the whole world spread out beneath you.

The squelching, sticking feeling of walking through a muddy bog.

Walking through a bog and knowing if you fall into an unseen bog hole you’ll likely never get out alive.

The strange security of grabbing onto plants you know would never do anything for you if you fell, yet there’s comfort in grabbing them anyways.

Somehow, no matter how much you plan, you end up with far too much food. You wonder if the local critters like freeze dried spaghetti so you don’t have to carry it back up the trail.

Marking your progress on the trail by one large trail side rock at a time. Ones you can sit on, ones in the shade, ones that just stand out. Even if you can’t make it to the end of the trail, you can make it to that next rock.

The utter relief when a cloud blocks the sun for a minute or two while you’re hiking, giving a tiny respite from the beating sun.

Rain sprinkles while hiking are the best thing ever. Little cool pin pricks helping whisk away your body heat, but not enough to make you want to pull out a raincoat.

The building desperation of knowing you need to sit, to really rest, but you’re on the side of a cliff and there’s no damn place to do so.

The ever present, prickling knowledge that a horse once fell off this trail and met a very violent end on the way down. They found it’s saddle impaled with its ribs.

The warmth of a campfire hiding in your clothes, then pressing into your skin as you move.

The slight give of a rotting log as you sit on it. Much more comfortable than sitting in a hard log.

The bracing nip of chill morning air as you emerge from your sleeping bag.

The quickly building warmth of the sun coming over the cliffs, finally rising for you even though it’s been up for hours.

Hearing the sheep baaaaing all night and listening to their dogs chase off coyotes. You’d honestly rather a wolf was out there, because those sheep dogs can, will, and want to fight to the death for their flock.

All food is good food after about day three. Even things you’d normally hate are suddenly delicious.

The strange realization that if the world ended while you were out here, you probably wouldn’t know. You can’t quite decide if this is comforting or terrifying.

[earthstory]

Earth's Biggest Hole, Seen from Space

There is an oft-cited rumor that the Great Wall of China is the only manmade structure that can be seen from space. Although technically you can see this structure from extraterrestrial heights (albeit with great difficulty), there are actually a host of other manmade structures that are much more clearly visible—cities, large buildings, man-made islands, and mines, especially this mine—the Bingham Canyon Mine in Salt Lake City, UT.

This is largest open-pit mine in the world. What was once a foothill of the Oquirrh Mountains is now a hole 6.4 km (4 miles) across and so deep that two of the Sears Tower in Chicago could be stacked on top of each other and fit inside. Nearly half a million tons of material are removed from this mine daily and processed for copper as well as gold, silver, and molybdenum.

This mine, first opened in 1906, has produced more copper than any other mine to date. The mine’s copper-bearing rock, named the Bingham Stock, is quartz monzonite—an intrusive igneous rock that, despite its misleading name, is very similar to granite except it contains much less quartz and equal proportions of plagioclase and potassium feldspar. Quartz monzonite is often associated with porphyry ore deposits, which are the result of intruding magma bodies. Superheated water is expelled from crystallizing magma and travels through fractures or mixes with meteoric water. This water contains a high concentration of dissolved ore minerals, which then precipitate in the surrounding rock, often creating profitable mineral deposits like this one.

The Bingham Canyon Mine is both a stunning feat of human engineering as well as a sobering reminder of the cost of modernization and what we owe to the natural world around us.

-CM

Photo credit: NASA https://eol.jsc.nasa.gov/SearchPhotos/photo.pl?mission=ISS015&roll=E&frame=29867 For more information about this mine: https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/8144/bingham-canyon-mine-utah For more information on how satellite images can be used for mining: https://www.micromine.com/satellite-imagery-in-mineral-exploration-part-1/

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt.11

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Smut +18!! Bad Times at the El Royale spoilers. 

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK.

Masterlist

The morning came and went accompanied with security while trailing through S.T.A.T.I.O.N. while Chris pretended like he knew about it before yesterday. While you followed him through the entrance they had the manager and a few workers to show him around and answer any questions he had. A few people in the store turned into way too many before they started blocking off the entrance, letting only those who had booked for the tour through. He whisked through the gift shop section messing around with toys, nick nacks, and posing with his ‘life size’ cut out that was still not tall enough. You laughed way too hard at a few gifts, rolling your eyes when he acted concerned when his hammer didn’t come rushing towards him, while a few fans around him laughed, just pumping up his ego for him. 

We finally gathered around the tour entrance with the few lucky people that actually booked this tour in advance not knowing he was going to be there. You went through the motions knowing what was in store because you had been through it before. Your camera roll was filled with pictures of him playing simulation games, posing inappropriately on Cap’s motorcycle, and trying to lift the hammer from its throne.

When you exited the tour back into the gift shop, he quickly took a group picture with the store staff and you both were ushered out quickly by security, straight to the valet bay of the hotel. Your eyes widened, tightening your grip on his hands as you followed behind him walking past maybe a hundred people who were roped out of the store, all who had came in the thirty minutes it took to go through it all.

“That was one of the coolest things ever!” He turned to you as he shut the car door behind you both.

“I know! I think I have a hundred pictures of you in there.” He scrolled through the pictures, sending himself a few, waiting to post them until the morning.

The day was wasted away by shopping, day drinking, and probably annoying the shit out of the two guys you had following you both all day. You both trailed all the way down the strip, spending a lot of time in New York New York, gambling a little, and enjoying dinner at the end of the strip - Mandalay Bay at House of Blues.

He dragged your hungover lifeless self out of bed the next morning, throwing you some clothes for the day and handing over bags to the concierge at the door before you could protest for your face wash, only leaving you with a toothbrush to stuff in your purse later. How he was always more of an early bird than yourself was astonishing, but he was. You both grabbed breakfast from a bakery in the hotel before leaving and admiring the Grand Canyon. At least you were dressed appropriately, appreciating the shorts and top and sandals he grabbed from the suitcase before hauling it away so quick. Your hair was left to a messy braid at the mercy of no hair brush.

He was back on road trip mode, trying to stick to his schedule which entailed driving for almost 10 hours today. You made him allow you the first few hours to drive so you could actually be awake during that time before the driving makes you sleepy.

You stared out the window at the boring open dark fields only lit by scarce street lamps, bored out of your mind. The brilliant idea of admiring his profile came to light. You had thought from the get go that him driving was too attractive to be normal. His thighs resting spread on the seat, forearms flexing as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the music playing through the cab. It was no secret at this point that his hands were enough to turn you on.

The wiggling in your seat went completely unnoticed by him as he plowed through a bag of gummy bears.

“Those gummy bears taste good?” You questioned him with a sly look. He replied with a duh, glancing your way, double taking when he caught the mischievous look on your face.

“What, is up with you?” He tried to eye you from the side, focusing more on the road once you clicked the seatbelt free.

“Hey don’t do that.” He dropped a few more gummy bears from his hand in his mouth and reached for the buckle pulling it back down, while you shifted your feet off the dash. You stared shamelessly at his hand pulling across your midsection at the strap.

“O’ come on. You are not gonna kill me are you?” You grabbed his hand from the strap and pushed his hand back to the wheel. “Two hands,” you told him sternly sliding your fingers across the center console to his thighs, and propping up on your knees in the seat.

“Babe what the..” Your hands squeezed his inner thigh, “Fuck, what are you...” You spent no extra minute going for his button and zipper, squeezing him through his jeans. Pressing small suctioned kisses to his neck.

“You..” He pulled his head away and looked at you bewildered. “You are dirty!” You just smiled in retaliation, biting your lip, wanting him to comply.

“Are you telling me no?” - “You are a dirty dirty girl! You act so shy and sweet and shit but you are dirty!”

You went again flexing your hand under his pants and feeling how hard he got confirming your interests. Momentarily, he lost focus, eyes switching to your hold on him, and jerking the car back into his lane, though it was late in the middle of seemingly nowhere with no one around you.

“Two hands on the wheel Chris,” you said again, reiterating what you meant earlier. You left your station by his face, sinking down under his arms and pulling him out from his jeans. You jerked him in your hands feeling him harden completely under your grasp, his pelvis jumping at your contact. You took the liberty of licking a fat strip along the side, skimming past the tip, wrapping your lips around the side. A frustrated grunt left this lips but he didn’t speak.

You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucking hard till you heard him hiss from above you. The car jerk slightly again giving you a rush of power and adrenaline while you worked him over.

You decided to play nice and you sucked him down taking as much as you could flat against your tongue, fingers tightening around what you couldn’t get at the angle. The wet warm feel of your throat closing over him had him fighting to keep his eyes peeled open. When you pumped him and pulled him in deeper you felt one of his hands wrap through your hair, not to guide you but almost to ground himself. You worked him over quickly when you could sense he was trying hard to not kill you both.

His hips stuttered pressing into your tight throat and getting more vocal had you working harder till you felt his grasp tighten on the back of your neck, brushing your hair opposite so he could see you. He came fast after, shooting down your throat while you sucked him clean till he tried to shift away from you in the seat from over stimulation.

Did he still think you were dirty? Yes.

Was he going to act like he didn’t enjoy it? No.

~

Many stupid car games and a short hotel stay later, you were finally coming into town, your turn to drive of course. Chris sent your mom a text from your phone with the ETA and she let you know they were all out at the ballfield, game just started.

Second inning just started by the look of the scoreboard as you pulled into the parking lot. Nerves started to float through Chris as he unbuckled his seatbelt trying to keep up with you who was itching to get inside already.

You paid at the gate and grabbed his hands so he would stop walking like a snail. He was just terrified of finally meeting your brother in person, he seemed to be the most important person to you.

“Look! He’s on deck!” You pointed down to where he was stepping out of the dugout with a bat in hand, Chris watched as he swung in line with the pitch even though he wasn’t on the plate.

“You know I don’t know much about baseball right?” You smile politely back at him, figuring as much.

“I’ll teach you.” You walked down the far side of the stands so he wouldn’t see you, not like he pays attention to the onlookers on a normal day anyway. You pointed out your parents in their seats and while he walked that way, you walked straight to the fence watching your brother step up to the plate.

Just as the pitcher was hiking, you let it slip, “Hey Tyler, homer for me, all right?”

Strike one.

He instantly flew around, distracted by the sudden sound of your voice yelling out to him from behind. Eyes finding you immediately. You waved and gave him a thumbs up, quickly pointing over to where your parents where and Chris slowly walking over there.

Meanwhile Chris was about to shit himself, meeting your parents with you not next to him. The resemblance of your mother was hard to look away from, both of you almost identical.

Your mom was the one to take initiative calming his nerves while your father merely looked his way with wave, focusing back on the game and his seeds, calling out as Ty hit a triple off the right field fence.

You met Ty at the fence as he came home, smiling and pointing up at Chris with your parents. To say it surprised him was an understatement.

Your days home were spent well, bringing lunch with your mom at the hospital while she was working, cooking dinner one night when they both got off work. You showed him around your city filled with pride and sadness from missing it. You both shopped, went to another game, and had drinks with Ty, Chaz, and a few other mutual friends after the game.

A lake day took place on Saturday, pulling out both your parents Seadoos and Chief Cox’s boat, courtesy of Chaz. Getting sunburned and swimming in the dirty water was the best past time.

Church on Sunday, required by your father, but you think it was mostly to see how Chris would behave. He seemed to slide right in as you greeted some long lost acquaintances that you hadn’t seen in a long time but grew up with. Chris and your dad had gotten along well so far, to your knowledge.

A Sunday family dinner and a stormy/tornado-y Monday came a went slowly. He 100% lost his chill while listening to the NEWS broadcaster. Meanwhile, your father was perched out on the front patio AKA the driveway, with lawn chairs, craft beer, and a few neighbor buddies.

Tuesday night your last night home. You sat next to him on the couch eating dinner while your brother prompted to telling stories of yourself to embarrass you, you not hesitating to start back.

“Do you like him, mom?” You asked her shyly. The three disappeared into the garage. You leaned against the kitchen counter as she put away leftovers and started the dishwasher.

“I do,” you waited for her to continue speaking. “He’s funny, very intuitive, and I can see he loves you, a lot.” You looked away from her blushing. A small smile to yourself was present.

“Well, I’m glad you think so.”

You walked to the garage door and threw it open to see what they were doing. All three eyes immediately snapped to the door, none of them moving a muscle. They stayed silent waiting to see what you were doing.

“Uh ok,” sensing the weird vibe, “I’ll just go back inside.”

“No sweetheart your fine,” your dad dismissing it, “come here.” He motioned you over, throwing down a towel.

“Chris here, doesn’t know what these are. Do you?” You rolled your eyes at him, figuring they were probably testing his knowledge out here.

“They are spacers, Ty- did you seriously get new tires again?”

Chris sat silently, leaning against the workbench. Your presence halted their reactions. He wasn’t able to get their answers yet.

His hands were sweating, knowing this was the only time he was going to be able to talk to them about this. He had put it off to the last, last second, seeing as you were both leaving in the morning.

His silence caught their attention while they were goofing around taking tires off, trying to relay their knowledge on to him.

“I had a great time here,” he told them to start off. “I loved it honestly, thank you for hosting us.” Was that too formal?

Your dad didn’t know how to respond, starting to eye him sceptically. “Well, you’re welcome son. Don’t be too shy about bringing her back around, you hear?”

Chris nodded in understanding, your brother finally standing up straight to observe the interaction.

Your dad was not one to speak very much. He was pretty simple in your eyes. He kept his family happy, protected his family, and watched out for those he loved. He was not a man of many words. Never had been.

“No of course, she was so happy to be here, I’m glad she’s willing to share it with me.” Your dad stood up straight, throwing a towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms, daring him to continue.

“Listen,” Chris stopped, searching for words. “I know it’s been what, 8 months since I have met her. But I love her, I do.” He looked away, scratching the back of his neck while your dad burned holes into his head. “I think she would think I was absolutely insane if I asked her now, to allow me to spend my life with her, but I would drop everything tomorrow to keep her.”

His eyes almost start to water under the pressure of asking this, feeling slightly overwhelmed and outnumbered. “I’m not saying this is going to be anytime soon, I just- I know, myself, I won’t be able to see you both often and I want to ask before I lose my chance to.”

Your brother stilled, watching him like a statue. “Im- I am asking permission to marry your d-” the garage door flew open, revealing a curious woman of the hour. Chris’s heart jumping out of his skin at the intrusion of the silence.

“Uh ok, I’ll just go back inside.”

You rolled your eyes at Ty, what he had was never good enough, of course he felt the need to upgrade again. He takes after his father.

“Are you okay?” You took a few steps in his direction after noticing his silence. Chris nodded and forced a smirk at you.

“You guys be nice to him!” You yelled back at your father and brother, pointing their way. “Blink three times if I need to save you from them.” You loudly whispered jokingly, but also 1000% serious.

“I’m nice!”-”I’m always nice!” Their responses went ignored while you shook his arm, trying to get him to stop acting like a robot.

“I’m good Princess,” he was sly with a kiss on your forehead, nudging you to go back inside.

There is that stupid word again, ‘I’m good’. Whatever. Whenever someone says that, they are always, in fact, not good.

You double checked him again with your eyes before making your way back inside. Going out there was an awkward mistake. The door pressed shut behind you while he forced himself to hold up his head. A beat of tension passed before he figured he’d try to not make himself seem like such a pussy.

“Ty, I-”

“I know Chris, I got it.” Ty held his hand out, stopping him from speaking. He had heard enough, and he already knew his answer.

Ty was positioned just behind his father who made a thoughtful moment, picking up the towel again and busying himself to avoid talking. Chris’s locked-in focus switched between them both, catching on Ty while he gave a slight nod of his head in approval, turning back to finish what he had started for the evening.

“Son, I just have one question,” your father spoke with a soft voice. “I know my daughter, I know what she wants.”

Chris felt another wave of nervousness flood over him, Ty ignoring him after he had given his response had left out his safety blanket.

“What she wants, you have already had.” Your father stopped again. It was never in his intention to sound rude, and he will try his damn best to never be. He gathered his words while Chris stood at attention, subconsciously crossing his arms, a movement most often misread as a defense mechanism, but was really a form of self comfort in distressing situations.  

He looked up, finally ignoring the towel once again. “You had a family Chris, I know that much. You had three children and a wife.”

A sinking feeling settled in Chris’s stomach. He didn’t figure your father would pull an old fashioned moral on him, he’d been married and divorced. Of course he has reservations.

“My question is, are you able and willing to give my daughter a family?”

“And before you answer that, I know you know what I’m talking about. The girl had been maternal since the moment she could carry the weight of a baby doll in her hands. You have seen her with children. That’s the reason you are standing in front of me for pete’s sake... But I can only imagine the life you live.” The ever returning silence of the three had only a moment before he reiterated the one question he wanted answered. “Are you willing to give my daughter a family?”

“I-,” he stopped to gather himself. He took the question way to deeply. When he meant that he would drop everything tomorrow for you, he lied. He would do it the moment you asked. He cleared his throat, shaking away the stupid emotions that he dare say hurt his masculinity a bit. “I would give her anything.”

~

“You’re not going to make me listen to this every time you drive are you?” You may or may not have added Jonas Brothers to your own road trip playlist. But it was only a few songs, and the rest consisted of Chris Stapleton, way too much 80s rock, and old Justin Timberlake. Just wait until he gets a whiff of the Juke Box Hero concert you were going to put on, although it was nothing compared to Back in Black.

“You have headphones, my dear. Don’t complain.” You have about two more hours till you passed into Tennessee, loaded with Miley’s address in google maps.

He rolled his eyes and laid back the seat, throwing an arm over his eyes, refusing to admit he didn’t mind a little bit of red dirt.

His turn to drive took place before driving through the city. You turned over in the laid back seat so he couldn’t see your phone screen even if he wanted to, sneaking in some headphones. You were not very discreet, stealing glances to make sure he wasn’t going to pay attention to you while you opened the Hulu app. You still had roughly three hours and it seemed like the perfect time to watch a movie, one that you hadn’t seen but wouldn’t admit to never seeing.

You stayed still pressing play on Bad Times, stealing one last glance in his direction before turning up the volume on the head phones and zoning in.

~

So remember that thing about not being able to be sneaky? Yea, you were already an hour and a half into the movie and you still hadn’t seen him. You stayed confused watching things happen with no explanation silently wishing for answers because it was so mysterious.

The scene cut to a young girl sitting in the sand before you heard his voice float through the headphones, and a more than arousing american accent with a southern ring to it. You pushed back a gasp, covering your mouth with the fingers sticking above the blanket to attempt to conceal the expression on your face as Billy walked into the water, naked.

Another 20 or so minutes of confusing hotel drama, and a girl calling her father on the phone while her sister wants to kill her, or maybe save her? You didn’t even know at this point.

There he was again. Walking in the rain through the parking lot. That is when you put the damn phone call together. She wasn’t calling her father. She was calling Billy. She called him Daddy.  A snort left you mouth once your realized she was calling him on the phone, not her father.

As soon as the sound left you, you froze not looking up at him though he didn’t shoot you a glance. Maybe he didn’t hear it.

You are almost 100% certain your mouth didn’t close for the rest of the movie. Finding them all tied up and sitting scared shitless while he paraded around with some pie and a gun. You sucked in a breathe once you realized the sick game Billy was playing. The poor concierge shaking in his seat pleading with the Priest.

The movie consumed your reality, slipping a ‘what the fuck’ from your lips once the older sister was shot point blank.

“What are you watching over there?” His voice broke you from your trance, making you jump in the spot. Looking at you from over his shoulder. Fast reflexes left your system as you squealed a ‘nothing’ and placed a death grip around the phone, shrinking away and backing into the door.

You tried your best to ignore him and control yourself, sinking back into the movie. You found yourself mouthing an ‘oh shit’ silently while they got loose and started attacking Billy, beating the shit out of each other.

The commotion made it impossible to peel your eyes away from the screen, secretly rooting for Billy. And then it happened and the gasp was loud, shaking you to the core, and there was no way of dismissing it that time. You were not ready for that. You heard him ask again what you were watching over the noise in the head phones, but you ignored him. In turn watching him fall dead on the screen with a bullet shot clear between the brows. The blanket fell off your shake-y hands while you cringed, trying to look away from the screen but not able to.

“(Y/n) seriously what is it?” You look away from the screen and lock your phone, pulling the ear buds out. Is it wrong to say that almost made you sick to your stomach to watch? You didn’t even feel like finishing the movie, though you could probably guess what happens.

“Nothing, nothing. Just a stupid facebook video.” Ok, that was a lie and he knew it. He let it go. You sat up straight in the chair, pulling yourself back together to the land of the living. He made a little small talk about where you were at the moment. You just nodded, acting like you were listening but you knew the image of him getting shot straight in the head was going to haunt you for the next hour before you somehow forget about it. You stared at him as he spoke. Yep, still definitely alive.

He gave you a funny look before you turned back forward from burning your eyes into him. You tried to dissmiss that stupid nagging in your brain, slowly turning to glance his way again. Still breathing.

“What?” The patience losing in his tone, makes sense. “Do I have shit on my face or something?”  

Your eyes slightly widened as you forced yourself to look ahead again, shuffling your phone and hands under the blanket, pulling it up to your shoulders. You drew up a knee and rested your chin on it, trying to act interested out the window.

You always had so many questions when you finished a movie, waiting till the end to reminisce, but this was a whole other ball game. Why was cult leader Billy such a turn on, but creep you out at the same time? The movie had you hating him but rooting for him.

Before you knew it, you were back staring his way almost bewildered at the ability to transform into such a character. It was almost freaky but it was his job. Reason number one why you could never do what he does, you are not good at keeping reserved.

“Would you stop staring at me if you are not going to speak, you are freaking me out.”

“Sorry.. sorry.”

“Are you like, like, worked up aga-” Really?

“No. Jesus!”

“Hey! I’m just asking!”

“It’s not like that,” maybe you were worked up but it wasn’t like he was thinking.

“Well, what is it like because I am really confused right now!” He sighed, gripping his hands around the wheel. Damn, he’s the one worked up.

“I was just, I was- I was watching, uhh,” abort mission now. “I was watching Bad Times.” The moment you said it, you regretted it.

“You what? Were you really?” The ecstatic tone in his voice was trampled by the curiosity coming next. “Had you never seen it?” You shook your head.

“Well what else haven’t you seen!” You pondered the thought for a moment, racking your brain for movies you knew he had done. Think… What posters and movies are in the movie room at the house?

“I haven’t seen 12 Strong or Rush. I haven’t seen those Snow white movies. What are they called again?” You almost felt bad that you hadn’t seen the movies. But honestly, were you going to allow yourself to watch them and then have him catch you randomly, so he can get a big head about it? No.

“Are you serious right now? You haven’t, like, done your research or something?” Big head, was that it?

“Seriously, think about what you just said.” You shook that comment away. “I have seen Vacation, but we are not going to talk about that one.”

“Oh c’mon we can talk about it! I should be the one embarrassed here! Not you.” You didn’t reply. You were going to have to burn through all these movies really quick when you got home.

~

You both had burned through Tennessee in two days, laying low through Nashville and avoiding the more popular places. New York was a story in its own. At your request, you both went to a Yankees game, not because you liked the team, more so because you wanted to step foot into the stadium and say you’ve been to a New York Yankees game.

Chris slipped the contract into the post office before heading to the airport, knowing they would receive it by tomorrow since you were in the city.

“I did it.”

“I know you did, I’m proud.” A weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he didn’t regret it. You were right, he needed to do it for closure for himself at least.

“Now I only have one surpirse left while we are in the states, okay?” You eyed him skeptically wondering what he was up to.

You about murdered him when you were brought to a private jet. While he shrugged his shoulders and said it was free, all he had to do was film a quick video inside and post it for it to be sponsored.

“Besides, are you going to say no to joining the mile high club?”

“Yea, you wish.”

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes@jonsnowisthesexiestbastard@weekendswithnewtmas@innerpaperexpertcloud@toomanyflowerboys@thefashioncomplex@basmaraafat@imaginationintowords@taketimeandappreciate@superheroesaremytea @vampiregirl1797@ynm1505@danathewitchywoman@avengerswhonow @thorfanficwriter @disaster-rose @cap-just-said-language @xmarveled

[creativenicocorner]

Ch12 sneak peek

Since I’m feeling a low amount of self control, and am very excited for what is to come in Terpsichore, I’ve decided to place the sneak peek I shared on discord here as well. 

Those who have read it on discord might be happy to find it’s a tiny bit longer

Those who are curious about Terpsichore can read the fic here

Either way enjoy! ♡

              Meanwhile Again, Barbara Lake & Passing Out

When Dr. Barbara Lake fell to the floor it was certainly, by all intense and purposes, a fall. Except it didn’t feel like she was falling when she passed out. 

She knew what falling was, but this, this felt like she was sinking. Her body was sinking to the ground while her mind floated on to some sort of surface like a buoy. 

When her consciousness looked back down to where she thought her body would be, all Dr. Barbara Lake saw was water. 

A moving live body of water that, in the same way as a canyon gives an open letter to anyone to leap and dive into the unknown, invited Barbara into its own form of unknown. The watery unknown that so long plagued Barbara’s dreams since her incident at Lake Superior. 

The body of water moved slowly, and grew closer to her. But not close enough to cause any sort of instinctive alarm or panic. After all she wasn’t in the water. Just floating above it. 

With that Dr. Barbara Lake came to the very scientific conclusion that she was dreaming. 

Scientifically speaking, of course. 

She then wondered what it was like to have normal dreams. Dreams of flying, dreams of cliffs, dreams of being stuck at the DMV for hours on end only to find out the DMV was actually the inside of a cornucopia bowl all along. Or a dream of being chased by a watchdog in the form of many apples, much to the painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s delight, and thus keeping the good doctor away.  

Barbara curled her legs closer to herself, hugging them with an accepting sigh. There is perhaps no such thing as a normal dream. Besides floating, in her opinion, was better than drowning. 

She tilted her head to the side to look down at the water below her. Barbara watched how the water grew and deflated in waves like a working breathing lung. How the water magnified the sea floor making it seem closer than it really was. With sand, and pebbles, and seagrass. Small schools of fish of all sorts of shades and colors. 

It looked like liquified crystal, mesmerizing. 

The surface glinted, reflecting an unknown source of light that illuminated Barbara’s watching face. 

Dr. Barbara Lake, without realizing, started breathing in the same tempo to the coming and going waves of the water. Captivated by the coming and goings of the aquatic world below. 

In so many words, Barbara was tempted to reach toward that water. 

In all her dreams Dr. Barbara Lake has never reached out willingly to the water in turn. 

But all it took was a small gesture of her hand, the smallest move of her finger toward the water, and it (whatever it was) was done. 

The water below Barbara surged upwards like a high tide surges into a cave. Foam bubbled a brilliant white like pearls. Water sparkled in its crashing like titanous elephants. All charging upward to meet Barbara. 

And Dr. Barbara Lake, feeling very small, was absorbed into the living water. Her unconsciousness slipped deeper and farther from her physical self, like how a diver falls backwards off a boat. 

The plunge was felt. Cool, and all at once. She slipped and found herself completely submerged in a cobalt abyss. With small pockets of light peaking through the watery surface, like sunlight through the stained glass of a cathedral. 

Now Barbara felt her heart race into it’s instinctual gut punch panic. 

Ah, thought Barbara distantly, There it is. The return of the status quo of my nightmarish ‘drowning dreams’. 

Kicking her feet, Barbara swam upwards towards the surface. 

But the surface, dancing tantalizing looking always within reach with glints of sunlight, was never reachable. 

The closer Barbara swam, the further it seemed. 

Her lungs started to burn, she wanted to scream, coil, roll in the water like an enraged alligator. Another part of her desired to gulp as much of the water around her, shortening the inevitable drowning process that usually woke her. 

The want to inhale was so great her head started to ache. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep herself form thinking about it. Yet it was all Barbara could think of. 

Inhale.

Take a breath.

Just breath. 

Shorten the process.

Inhale.

Air.

And yet…distantly, in the farthest reaches of Dr. Barbara Lake’s thoughts she knew inhale would also be accepting. Not so much accepting the act of drowning. Something else…something she didn't feel ready for. 

And then, like a huge bell of an old medieval bell tower, something in the water rang. 

Rang with such a force that made Barbara’s ears pop. She felt goosebumps crop on her skin. And with that, she gasped in the water. 

Bubbles drifted away from Barbara as she inadvertently gulped water. She choked underwater like a recently speared fish. With futile gasps. 

In Barbara’s panic, however, too absorbed in the hope of not drowning, huge towers of kelp would rise from below. Circling her and arching as if sentient enough to move on its own as oppose to the graceful dance caused by underwater currents. Around Barbara the kelp started to entwine into a huge high arching underwater threshold. 

The sight of which made Barbara calm down, if only a little. 

Another bell- like sound rang. Clear as brass and loud as thunder. 

Fish scattered away to hide within the high kelp arch, like pigeons receding to the arches of Renaissance buildings. 

Barbara gasped again, and realized to her pleasant surprise that her lungs didn’t sting as they used to. Water filling her lungs was as welcomed as air. 

Barbara marveled at this in a surprised jet of exhaled bubbles. 

As the bubbles floated away from Barbara they grew in size. Growing as big as her head. 

“Wow.” breathed Barbara. 

She reached out to try and touch one of the bubbles, but quickly retracted her hand when between her and the bubble descended the tendrils of a jellyfish. 

Then another jellyfish descend by her shoulder, then another behind her. Surrounding her. 

Looking upwards she could see them slowly floating down towards her, more and more, until it was unclear where the surface of the water started, and where the jellyfish ended. 

Huge translucent, partially colored translucent bulbs. Breathing their own rhythms. Like living underwater chandeliers. 

The surface’s light bent through them. 

“You know.” said a calm accented voice Barbara knew all too well. She turned towards the source of the voice. 

It came from one of her large exhaled air bubbles. Though in it mirrored not the aquatic world around them, but a memory of sorts. 

Barbara waved her hands and kicked her feet closer to the bubble, trying hard to avoid the tendrils of the descending jellyfish. 

In the bubble she saw herself and Walter Strickler sitting side by side on her living room couch. An arm draped around her, and her head cozily nestled on the slow rise and fall of Walter’s chest. 

In the bubble It was the middle of the night. Perhaps 3am. One of those dream induced sleepless nights where after a bad dream Barbara just couldn’t fall back asleep. 

Wrapped in bedsheets and blankets they lazily watched a nature documentary.

Ironically it was on aquatic life. 

//

[krispyweiss]

The Live Music Year in Review

If live music is a drug, Sound Bites is a user and abuser. But, dang, a drug never felt so good and left so little damage (read: none) as live music.

The following are excerpts from the blog’s original reviews and do not include performances at the Nelsonville Music Festival, the Outlaw Music Festival and other difficult-to-encapsulate events.

That said, it’s a fair look at an exceptional year of concertgoing and one of the many things Sound Bites is grateful for in the year that was 2019. These sound bites (lower case) are listed in order of quality; parenthetical numerals indicate the number of times the blog’s seen the act.

A+

Los Lobos (18) at Music Box Supper Club, Cleveland, Ohio, March 1 - This was a band that wanted to be exactly where it was doing exactly what it was doing. And it showed in the music and the on-stage interaction, resulting in what was likely the best of the nearly 20 Los Lobos concerts Sound Bites has experienced since the early 1990s.

Los Lobos (19) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, July 23 - Los Lobos earned multiple standing ovations, created enough energy to make the half-full shed feel like a packed arena and proved once again why on any given night, this is the best live band in America.

Brian Wilson (2) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, Aug. 13 - Wilson’s performance of Pet Sounds and Beach Boys hits wasn’t perfect, yet it was sheer perfection. The concert humanized a musical god; it celebrated of the soundtrack of a generation; and it demonstrated the healing power of music, for both Wilson and his followers.

Wheels of Soul feat. Tedeschi Trucks Band (10), Blackberry Smoke and Shovels & Rope at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, July 20 - Tedeschi Trucks Band proved the existence of life after death Saturday night, as the 12-piece killed with song after song after song and the audience came back with increasing enthusiasm each time. And while there is no denying the value in this packed night of music - which ran from 7 to 11 p.m. on a steamy, Southwestern Ohio night - it was the headliners that slayed listeners time and time again.

Livingston Taylor (2) at Thirty One West, Newark, Ohio, Dec. 6 - Livingston Taylor is as well-rounded an entertainer as anyone could ever hope to see, even if his relative obscurity meant only about 80 people turned out to see him put on an outrageously entertaining Friday-night show.

Marc Cohn feat. the Blind Boys of Alabama at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, June 19 - Singing with their "Hebrew buddy" Marc Cohn, the Blind Boys of Alabama provided healing salve to the blues that immediately preceded and followed their joint set at the Rose Music Center at the Heights. The unexpected combo stole the night, an evening when Robert Cray was uncharacteristically tepid in his performance.

A

Punch Brothers (4) at Southern Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, March 20 - Even by the Punch Brothers' high standards, the band's March 20 show in Columbus was exceptional and featured a setlist that spurned esoterica for pure musicianship and songcraft. The precision in their performances continues to stagger, even more than a decade in to their career, as the band zigs and zags through various stylistic landscapes, stops on any number of onstage dimes, accelerates from zero to 60 in nanoseconds and demonstrates time and time again that intricate ensemble playing is typically much more effective than even the most evocative solo.

Todd Rundgren (39) at State Theatre, Cleveland, Ohio, May 6 - By the time he closed with “Just One Victory,” fans who had given sporadic standing ovations all evening had crowded up front for a chance to slap hands with their musical hero. Rundgren obliged. But even if he hadn’t, he’d already delivered.

Hot Tuna (Acoustic) (9) at Natalie's Coal Fired Pizza and Live Music, Worthington, Ohio, Nov. 5 - Some people say going to concerts is like going to church. Sometimes that church is a pizza shop. And the preachers are occasionally a couple of former psychedelic warriors and Woodstock veterans who have always been grizzled bluesmen at their core.

Darrell Scott (3) at Natalie's Coal Fired Pizza and Live Music, Worthington, Ohio, Sept. 29 - Accompanying himself on hollow-bodied electric guitar, six-string acoustic guitar and piano, Scott previewed tracks from the four albums, including a Hank Williams tribute, he's working on - "It sounds crazy, but it's just music," he said - sung Joe South's "Games People Play” and briefly turned the restaurant into a church.

Steep Canyon Rangers (8) at Midland Theatre, Newark, Ohio, Oct. 24 - To call the show lively would be an insult to the word, as the group moved on and off stage to play in various incarnations with members moving up front to solo and backing off to give their mates their own star turns.

Circles Around the Sun at Woodlands Tavern, Columbus, Ohio, June 11 - The band whipped out a nine-song, nearly two-hour performance that whizzed by in what seemed like 45 minutes as the quartet laid down thick grooves and the audience in the tight, well-sold space stomped around gleefully in them.

Lyle Lovett (4) and His Acoustic Group at Victoria Theatre, Dayton, Ohio, Oct. 18 - No matter whom he plays - Acoustic Group, Large Band, solo or acoustic with friends like Robert Earl Keen and Shawn Colvin - Lyle Lovett is always a wise ticket.

Todd Snider (11) at Speaker Jo Ann Davidson Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, April 10 - For 90 minutes, Snider played a career-spanning set that culled songs from 1994's Songs for the Daily Planet through this year's Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3 and most of his other albums as well. The crowd was small but enthusiastic, singing loudly on old songs such as "Easy Money" and listening attentively to new ones such as "Watering Flowers in the Rain" and "Just Like Overnight."

The Larry Campbell & Teresa Williams (4) Band at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, April 13 - The Larry Campbell & Teresa Williams Band can play anything. And they played most of it during a knockout, two-hour show inside the Fur Peace Station. This was one of those concerts - a show rewarded with several standing ovations from the sold-out house as Campbell and Williams - with Williams’ parents on hand - covered the Carter Family (“I Ain’t Gonna Work Tomorrow”), Johnny Cash (“Big River”), traditional songs via the Grateful Dead (“Deep Elem Blues”) and performed originals from their two duo LPs as Jorma Kaukonen joined in for most of the second set.

Joan Osborne (3) at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, Aug. 2 - For 95 minutes, Joan Osborne and her trio played tracks from Songs of Bob Dylan. But it was Osborne, whose voice ranges from soprano cries to deep-throated, bluesy wailing to tender and cracking in a girlish way, who made them work. "Buckets of Rain" was the little girl; "Highway 61 Revisited" was the brassy blues singer. Meanwhile, "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" was a rest on a front-porch swing and "Tangled up in Blue" was a walk through a lifetime - either Dylan's or Osborne's.

Grateful Ball Featuring the Travelin’ McCourys (2) and the Jeff Austin Band at Woodlands Tavern, Columbus, Ohio, Jan. 27 - Bluegrass meets jamgrass meets psychedelic rock ‘n’ roll when the Travelin’ McCourys and the Jeff Austin Band get together for a Grateful Ball. Playing alone and together, the bands treated the sold-out bar to more than three hours of exhilarating, Sunday-night roots music that bled into early Monday morning.

Leo Kottke (5) at Thirty One West, Newark, Ohio, April 21 - Leo Kottke held the audience at in rapt silence as he demonstrated what an acoustic guitar - two, actually; a 12-string and a six-string - can sound like in the right hands. And in Kotte's hands, the guitar can sound like a bass, a dulcimer and multiple guitars all at the same time.

Dom Flemons Woodlands Tavern, Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 23 - Touring behind his Black Cowboys LP, the bespectacled Flemons looked as if he’d just walked off the ranch with a hat, suspenders holding up his blue work pants and a pocket watch on a gold chain. The former Carolina Chocolate Drop, known as "the American Songster," was the consummate entertainer and played in the style of De Ole Folks at Home-era Taj Mahal.

A-

John Oates with the Good Road Band at Victoria Theatre, Dayton, Ohio, Jan. 15 - A blind person attending this show would have spent most of the 110 minutes not realizing this was the same John Oates who is most famous for playing pop music with Daryl Hall. This was music culled mostly from the first half of the 20th century, when blues, country and jazz were still a melting pot of Americana and hadn't yet separated and led to rock 'n' roll.

Crash Test Dummies (2) at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, Sept. 21 - On the road celebrating 25 years of God Shuffled His Feet, four of the five original band members played 10 of God's dozen tracks and offered others from 1991’s The Ghosts that Haunt Me through 2010’s Ooh La La!

Jeff Lynne's ELO at Nationwide Arena, Columbus, Ohio, July 30 - Jeff Lynne's ELO ended the show where the former Electric Light Orchestra's career began to take off, playing a rambunctious version of "Roll Over Beethoven" - replete with its quotations of the composer's famous 5th symphony found on ELO 2 - and wrapping a night full of highlights with one of the brightest of all.

Lake Street Dive (2) and the Wood Brothers (7) at Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio, June 15 - Though they’re a disparate pair, Lake Street Dive and the Wood Brothers displayed shocking congruity during sit-ins and while playing alone across their rain-soaked, co-headlining sets.

Dead & Company (8) at Rouff Home Mortgage Music Center, Noblesville, Ind., June 12 - Like a young relative you see only occasionally, Dead & Company seems grow by leaps & bounds in between its annual summer tours.

Chicago (13) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, May 5- Down to three original members in keyboardist/guitarist/vocalist Robert Lamb, trombonist James Pankow and trumpeter/vocalist Lee Loughnane, the recently expanded, 10-man Chicago recreated the original septet’s sound via standout performances by all as they focused mostly on their first decade of recorded music.

Nick Mason's Saucerful of Secrets at Palace Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, April 7- For 110 minutes, the former Floyd drummer and his outstanding band plumbed the early-Pink discography, plucking songs from every album (except Ummagumma) from 1967's the Piper at the Gates of Dawn to 1972's Obscured by Clouds. These weren’t covers so much as interpretations and the band gave the music enough of a contemporary nudge to keep it from sounding too dated.

It Was 50 Years Ago Today at Akron Civic Theatre, Akron, Ohio, Sept. 28 - The Fab Faux Five consisted of a Utopian (Todd Rundgren), a Monkee (Micky Dolenz) with a Badfinger (Joey Molland), a dude from Chicago (Jason Scheff) and Christopher Cross. Motley and, unbelievably, well-matched, the group was backed by a stellar four-piece band who provided essential vocal backing and played synths, keys, drums, guitars, harmonica and bass as needed. They didn’t get a break, while the stars spent little time on stage all together (now), instead coming and going to play 23 of the Beatles' 30 tracks and two solo/band songs apiece.

Bob Dylan (12) and His Band at Mershon Auditorium, Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 4 - Never one to stand still or rest on his legacy, Dylan starts futzing with songs almost as soon as he commits them to tape and continues to do so basically forever.

Chris Smither and Sierra Hull at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Sept. 7, 2019 - Chris Smither mic'd his boots, played bottom-string-heavy, country blues on his acoustic guitar and solicited a lot of laughter. Sierra Hull played mandolin, octave mandolin and guitar and was mostly serious, eliciting a few gasps of disbelief.

B+

Bruce Hornsby (10) & the Noisemakers at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, July 16 - Though the Rose's sound system was typically muddy and Hornsby and company seemed to be at about 88 percent of their capability, they shouldn't have been opening for Amos Lee, whose mix of soulless soul and funk that wasn't funky caused dozens of Hornsby partisans - Sound Bites included - to bail after four songs.

Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band (3) at Nationwide Arena, Columbus, Ohio, Jan. 19 - The show came 18 months after back issues forced a last-minute postponement of his previously scheduled Columbus show - and eventually, his entire 2017 tour. And though Seger was noticeably less powerful than he was during his 2015 visit, he was also was visibly happy to be performing on what he says will be his final outing.

Mark Lanegan Band at MAPFRE Stadium, Columbus, Ohio, May 18 - Sound Bites ducked in and out of Sonic Temple Day 2 to see Lanegan after scoring a $1 dollar ticket. A $25 parking spot and a bottle of water priced at $5.50 negated some of the value, but Lanegan’s nine-song set was worth every dollar and every hassle to get inside the sold-out soccer stadium for his 35 minutes of stage time.

B

Bob Weir and Wolf Bros at Taft Theatre, Cincinnati, Ohio, March 6 - This Bob Weir and Wolf Bros performance is best described as a solid, Weir-led Grateful Dead spin-off show that was more successful than RatDog in its later years, but much less exciting than Bob Weir & the Campfire Band.

Rory Block and Cindy Cashdollar at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Oct. 19 - A show that reached its apex - and potential - late.

B-

The Richie Furay (2) Band at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Aug. 10 - With his voice in sick bay, Furay didn't even attempt his signature songs, "Nowadays Clancy Can't Even Sing," which would have seemed too ironic, and "Kind Woman," which he couldn't have pulled off in his diminished state.

Funky Feat at Jorma Kaukonen’s Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, June 16 - Ultimately, Funky Feat provided an opportunity for Little Feat fans to hear the music they love played by some of those who made it - and that makes the group a worthwhile endeavor. But folks unfamiliar with Feat’s music should turn to the original recordings for their primary education.

Experience Hendrix at Taft Theatre, Cincinnati, Ohio, March 17 - There's no shame in being unable to play like Hendrix. And most of the performers were unable to muster what was needed to make covering him for more than 180 minutes worthwhile. But the exceptions - including Zakk Wylde, Eric Johnson, Mark Nanji and Doyle Bramhall II - were exceptional.

Martin Barre (3) at Athenaeum Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, May 8 - Narrated by a disembodied voice that was piped in every few songs to tell the story of Jethro Tull's evolution, the concert was a little too contrived for its own good.

C+

Elizabeth Cook (4) and Will Hoge at Natalie's Coal Fired Pizza & Live Music, Worthington, Ohio, Oct. 30 - Each performer played 50 minutes; too long for Hoge and too short for Cook, who seemed like she wanted to be anywhere but on stage.

C

Blues Traveler at Columbus Commons, Columbus, Ohio, May 17 - The free concert had its moments. And the tickets were worth every penny.

12/18/19

[livvywrites]

ELDORA’S NYMPH RACES

Types

Also called dryads or tree spirits, sylvans are nymphs of the forest. They are borne of seeds, typically those of trees, but you’ll also see nymphs inhabiting bushes and ferns. Sylvans can’t go far from their home tree—though the physical distant varies by nymph, tree, and age—unless they are carrying one if its seeds. Even then, however, they are considerably weaker, and thus don’t typically travel much. Sylvans have a variety of appearances, ranging from human like with green skin to something more like a walking tree. Sylvans aren’t often seen by visitors, though they inhabit every forest on Eldora. They prefer to watch and listen. When they do interact with people, its typically to give advice or tend to those injured in their forests. Or, to get revenge when people take too much from their forests.

Also called naiads or water spirits, vesper are nymphs of the water. They inhabit oceans and rivers, lakes and ponds. Occasionally you’ll even find them in streams. Vesper typically take the form of a fish or other water-dwelling species, but do possess a humanoid form as well. Some take the shape of a literal body of water, the outline of a feminine form made up of water. Others, however, tend to be more physical, with blue or green (or occasionally, coral colored) with long dark hair. They have fins in the place of ears, with webbed fingers and toes. Gills in their necks, large dark eyes, and mouths full of sharp teeth. They’re a mischievous race. At best, they might rock a few boats, splash some people, or throw some stones. At worst, however, they cause drownings.

The aethera are spirit nymphs. These nymphs are very rare. They are the souls of those long-dead, who remained behind out of a sense of love, desperation, anger, sorrow, or duty. As such, their personalities often differ. Appearance wise, they tend towards purple-tinged translucent beings. Some of the older ones might even seem to glitter with stars, which researchers believe is due to stagnant magic. Aethera will often appear to those who enter their realm—sometimes as a vengeful guardian, other times asking for help, and still yet others desiring simply to help or protect this place they hold dear.

Also called aurae, aereads, or wind spirits, sylph are air nymphs. Their natural form is that of a cloud or mist-like apparition. However, they can appear in a more physical form. This form is typically quite small, ranging from 4 inches to 3 feet tall. Their skin comes in a variety of colors and is gossamer like in appearance, often appearing slightly wet. Their eyes are large and almost bug like, to match the antennae sprouting from their foreheads. They have pale, translucent wings that almost resemble that of a dragonfly. Sylph, like their water cousins, are very mischievous and delight in playing pranks on those around them, and messing with visitors through their territories.

The phoenae are fire nymphs. They typically inhabit volcanoes—usually near or in a nest of pheonix, hence their names. They typically hang about as clouds of smoke and embers, but do have humanoid forms as well. These humanoid forms can be vaguely human shape plumes of flame or smoke and embers, or red or orange skinned women with feathers for hair and talons for hands and feet, mimicking the phoenixes they live with. These nymphs are warriors, and rarely visit other races. Few people see them as few can survive deep in their territories, and those that do are not often well-received.

The aevium are the nymphs of time. These nymphs watch over the time flow for any abnormalities. It’s said that they have a close relationship with Fate’s nymphs, and together, they make sure the world keeps running. It’s also said that they report any abnormalities to the justicar, so that they can ensure no one does any permanent damage. Aevium have never been seen by any on Eldora, and are thus depicted many different ways—from traditionally humanoid to many-headed and many-limbed creatures. A common theme between each, however, is that their eyes are covered by bandages. What started this or what purpose it serves isn’t understood by researchers.

The moirayn are nymphs of fate. They are also called the weavers, or the spinnerette. These nymphs have the torso of a humanoid, and the lower body of a spider. They have six legs and two arms, and eight eyes on their face. Small mandibles cover their mouths, which are full of sharp teeth. Their chests do stick out a bit, but they have no actual breasts to speak of. They can and do produce webbing. Their job is to help Fate keep the loom running smooth, though sometimes that means appearing to the people of Eldora. Occasionally they guide champions, both heroes and villains, to keep the world running smooth.

Guardian Nymphs

These nymphs watch over wellsprings, where magic enters and exits the world. They ensure that no harm comes to the wellspring, and that the magic is flowing as it should. As such, they are typically more sociable, calm, and serious than their counterparts.

Syvlan: These nymphs are born directly by the World Tree, seeds spirited away from Sylfae by the wind. They are not as large as their mother, but close to it. They are tended by several acolytes, all of whom are their daughters.

Vesper: They typically live deep, deep below the water, but sometimes you’ll find them in underground caverns or lakes on land. They are often accompanied by a sea serpent or two.

Aethera: These ones are souls who have returned after death, instead of merely just sticking around. These ones are generally appointed to guard something, or guide someone. These are the ones you’ll see around wellsprings.

Sylph: They typically live high in the mountains, or inside canyons, or in the desert. They are generally accompanied by gryphons.

Phoenae: They still live in volcanoes and underground magma streams. They are often accompanied by dragons, rather than phoenix, however.

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