ethicalspacepiracy

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A stunning model (red spotted newt)

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underrated lotr moment is gandalf’s “let me risk a little more light” so the fellowship can see the ruins of dwarrowdelf.

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The Rust Disciples.

worn axes left to rust and rot in the forest sometimes become these strange creatures when fungi colonizes their handles. if you meet them in the woods, mind your business. if you are cruel they'll hunt you until you either leave their territory or are caught and chopped to bits. if you linger near them too long you might feel compelled to follow them deeper into the woods. you'll hike deeper and deeper with a growing group of the creatures until you get to a small pile of ancient burnt wood and crumbled stone in a clearing so off the beaten path that whatever was there before has almost completely returned to the earth. you will kneel down on soft mossy ground beside the beasts and mourn and laugh and cry and sing until you grow too tired to move. you will then wake up alone, feeling disoriented but content.

you will never find out what god you were grieving.

over on patreon Sean Dehoff wanted conjoined disciples, Kyle Weiss wanted forgotten gods, and Trip Space-Parasite wanted mushroom cyborgs (I'm counting a mushroom with an ax melted into it that's probably full of ghosts as a cyborg. fight me.).

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7th Headless Haunting: The Invisible Woman

A ghost's appearance can change over time depending on the emotional connection to their former lives. This change is involuntary and inconsistent. For some, their form shifts to mirror the cause of their death, or emphasizes some other lasting trauma. Others shift into a metaphorical representation of how they view themselves. But most just look like their living forms until time makes the details slip away. Because if there's no one left to remember them properly, and they can't really remember themselves, that can trigger a disconnection from their physical past. This disconnect causes the "sheet ghost" effect, as the soul loses the shape of its previous container.

It's a sad thing, catching a glimpse of a soul losing their face. But that's part of the cycle of life and death. Everything changes. Everything fades.

Sometimes that fading is even done on purpose.

Morgan doesn't call herself Morgan anymore because she doesn't want to metaphysically dox herself.

Through the efforts of the most annoying woman she's ever met, she's become one of the most famous ghosts in the south. She did not ask for this, she does not want it, and every day she wonders how she could have possibly been charmed into a barely 3 week relationship by someone she had to politely ask to stop making tictoks in the crystal shop constantly. It was easy to blame grief and depression for the drastic lowering of standards but still. Good lord.

She realized her mistake pretty quickly, but then "Luna's" roommate supposedly kicked her out with no warning and a sick cat named Quartz. And past!Morgan, who vividly remembered how much being homeless sucked, didn't want her out on the street.

(Okay, mostly she didn't want Quartz out on the street. He was goofy and sweet and the knowledge that she liked him way more than her new girlfriend made her feel guilty.)

This was a mistake.

She opened her home to them. Payed for emergency cat surgery. Dealt with arguments over filming in the house and random strangers coming over for "guided group spiritual exploration" sessions that she wasn't allowed to be in the room for because Luna was "working". Scrubbed Luna's essential oil covered bare ass marks off of her kitchen counters. And in return, she got this woman inviting something into her home.

One night while Luna was out with friends, it came into Morgan's bedroom and left her head on the other side of the house.

She never figured out exactly what got her, but the dark twisted shape made sure to find her terrified spirit before it left, and she could feel its irritation as it inspected her. She wasn't the right target. Luna owed a dept that she probably didn't even comprehend to something very pissed off.

All this would have been bad enough, but none of it was really worth being a ghost about. She'd had worse relationships, and since grandma was gone, almost all of her loved ones were dead anyway, so she really should have left.

But what about Quartz?

 She was the one handling all of his post operative care, and after watching Luna forget time after time to feed him or give him his meds or even really pay attention to him when he wasn't serving as a cuddly toy to cry on or an aesthetic set piece for videos, she decided to hang around until he was either stable or dead.

Which is how she found out about the haunted house tours.

Luna had been doing this for a while. It seems that every place she had ever lived was "haunted" and she made sure that the internet knew about all the trials and tribulations of being so spiritually gifted in a world filled with such trauma laden souls. She'd been kicked out of her last place for having a pretend spectral affair with her former roommate's dead best friend, and when she moved it didn't take a day for her to "sense something..." and start secretly profiting off of made up shit about Morgan's grandmother.

But now that Morgan was dead she had a goldmine on her hands. The gory, violent, locked room mystery death of a fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a low cut night gown was already pretty good, but add in the lesbian romance, Morgan's family history, and the fact that Luna's True Love had recently Saved her from an Abusive Environment and Certain Homelessness? Well, that's money baby.

Morgan's friends, bless 'em, had stopped Luna from livestreaming the funeral, and got as many pictures of her body taken down as they could.

Sadly, the fundraiser to purchase her family home for "spiritual conservation" was successful.

She had no idea that her following was that big.

She really should have checked.

Anyway.

Because of Luna she's spent the last 8 years being stalked by the living. Strangers pay to sleep in her bed and record the ambient noises of her room hoping she'll show up and talk to them. They buy books made of private poetry stolen from her journals. They demonize her dead family members and speculate on horrific abuse that didn't happen because "if you pay attention to how she dressed/read between the lines in her writing, there are clues she had serious daddy issues".

Recently, there was a shitty romance novel published based on her death, implying that whatever killed her was simply mad with lust and wanted to make her his dark bride in hell.

Yes "his". Her proxy was straight in that one.

And way slimmer.

That's a reoccurring thing that she tries not to think about too hard.

But the point is that all this mess keeps her from moving on. She just... can't. She spends all her time trying to sabotage Luna's grift as best she can. She exposes all the little tricks Luna uses during her seances to show she's not talking to anyone. She actively keeps other spirits away from the house just in case any of the ghost hunting gear people haul into her living room actually works (it doesn't but better safe that sorry). She never speaks just in case a recording picks something up and she's thrown away chunks of identifying features like her face and most of her tattoos so that if she is spotted, she's harder to identify.

She's spent years staging the most intensive anti-haunting she possibly can.

Quartz died 6 months ago and walked right past the entrance to the rainbow bridge to settle in her lap, just like old times. He tries to lead her away from the house a lot. Into the sunrise, towards her grandma's loud bright laughter and the bustling sounds of a family reunion in full swing.

She wants to follow him so badly.

She just.

Can't.

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The 6th Headless Haunting: Dryad

It was easier to take the land with her out of the way. Money and threats didn't work, and poisoning the dog just made her louder and more annoying than ever about the plan that they were passing off to any local official who asked as a "conspiracy theory". So it was time to escalate. Send a few boys over one evening pretending to be lost hunters. Do it in the woods. Make it brutal enough that the rest of family FINALLY gives up, but give the cops they paid off leeway to lie and call it a bear attack.

1 stubborn 50 something year old woman living out in the boondocks alone. Light work.

The bodies started piling up before they even found her.

The trail cameras were mostly destroyed, but the ones that survived recorded lenticels shifting on tree trunks like bulging veins, and far off human screams playing in short strange bursts, like the sound itself was being chopped to pieces. By the time her ashes were scattered on the forest floor, the whole operation was in chaos.

If you love the woods like she does and you're willing to share space with everything living and dead inside it, you're welcome there. If not?

Get off her fucking property.

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The 3rd Headless Haunting: Selkie and Kelpie

She'd have been way less angry if he'd done more than the bare minimum to get away with it.

He was always a good storyteller, maybe one of the best. But she had no idea how, after tossing her beheaded corpse off the cliff by the sea and forcing her horse to follow, he had stumbled into town covered in blood with strands of her hair still wrapped around his fists and got people believing that she was a selkie who'd taken her skin in a fit of jealousy and left poor ol' him alone and broken hearted (and able to marry that poor stupid girl he's been in a badly hidden affair with).

Maybe people just didn't like her? A secret lifelong resentment is the only way she could explain how readily they believed that shifty, silver tongued, sack of cow shit. Fakest crying she'd ever seen. No snot. Unbelievable.

They didn't believe any of the other fae bullshit that's been happening around here for generations but selkies? Well of coooooourse those are real. This time. They weren't when her poor granddad was telling stories about how his mother took saltwater baths sometimes and searched the farm like a woman possessed in between chores any time his father was gone for more than a day. They weren't when poor little Mary said the "seal man" made sure that they had a nice fish dinner every night when her father got too deep in the bottle to feed his children. But now, OOOOOOH now, everyone's big on selkies! Selkies everywhere! rich local history, proud seaside folktales, respect for blah blah blah.

Lying bastard couldn't have possibly known that her blood in the water would call to those who shared it.

Time to ride into town and try out her new teeth.

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Attention Whale Weekly fans: I saw some people that thought “white whales” were fictional but they are Not, and I’m not just talking about belugas. Albinism and leucistism has been recorded in over 20 species of cetacean! The most famous albino whale is a humpback named Migaloo. Look at this large impressive man!

There are also two more albino humpbacks alive currently, including a baby that we think may be Migaloo’s spawn.

There are also multiple albino orcas and dolphins, some in captivity and some in the wild.

And we recently found a white sperm whale. Just a lil baby. Look at the small man;

A teeny tiny Moby Dick. He will grow into a legendary beast someday just like his famous predecessor. I can feel it.

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Woolly the lamb

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O sapo-de-chifres ou sapo-folha (Proceratophrys boiei) é uma espécie de anfíbio da família Odontophrynidae. Essa espécie é endêmica do Brasil e é encontrada em várias regiões do país. Sua distribuição inclui principalmente áreas de Mata Atlântica, que é um bioma caracterizado por florestas tropicais úmidas e diversidade biológica excepcional

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Ghost Pokemon - Halloween 2023

Thank you for the support on this project! Now to the next one!

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Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

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Someone in my fb chicken group has a little bearded bantam that likes to sit on shoulders so they did a pirate photoshoot and I am losing it

Just look at it!! THE LITTLE HAT!!!