#:Tides of the Tideless Sea

[creepy-crowleys]

There is a music box. And there is a winding key. And there is a lullaby that must never end.

Featuring: @thetopben @witchofthescions @strikingskeletonsiege

[hexjulia]

good morning how about making your morning even better by remembering about 2nd century author oppian writing a poem about the sea fishes and fishing. it really is fun to read! some excerpts

"No hounds guide the fishers on their seaward path — for the tracks of the swimming tribes are unseen — nor do they see where the fish will encounter them and come within range of capture; for not by one path does the fish travel. In feeble hairs and bent hooks of bronze and in reeds and nets the fishers have their strength."

the description of fishes are sooo

"Others​ in the deeps under the sea abide in their lairs; to wit, the Sea-sheep​ and the Hepatus​ and the Prepon.​ Strong and large of body are they, but slowly they roll upon their way; wherefore also they never leave their own cleft, but just there they lie in wait beside their lair for any fish that may approach, and bring sudden doom on lesser fishes. Among these also is numbered the Hake,​ which beyond all fishes shrinks from the bitter assault of the Dog-star in summer, and remains retired within his dark recess and comes not forth so long as the breath of the fierce star prevails.

A fish there is which haunts the sea-washed rocks,​ yellow of aspect and in like build unto the Grey Mullet; some men call him Adonis;​ others name him the Sleeper-out, because he takes his sleep outside the sea and comes to the land, alone of all them that have gills, those folds of the mouth, on either side. For when calm​ hushes the works of the glancing sea, he hastes with the hasting tide and, stretched upon the rocks, takes his rest in fine weather. But he fears the race of sea-birds​ which are hostile to him; if he sees any of them approach, he hops like a dancer until, as he rolls on and on, the sea-wave receives him safe from the rocks."

"Companion of the open seas likewise is the Echeneïs.​ It is slender of aspect, in length a cubit,  its colour dusky, its nature like that of the eel; under its head its mouth slopes sharp and crooked, like the barb of a curved hook. A marvellous thing have mariners remarked of the slippery Echeneïs, hearing which a man would refuse to believe it in his heart; for always the mind of inexperienced men is hard to persuade, and they will not believe even the truth. When a ship is straining under stress of a strong wind, running with spread sails over the spaces of the sea, the fish gapes its tiny mouth and stays all the ship underneath, constraining it below the keel; and it cleaves waves no more for all its haste but is firmly stayed, even as if it were shut up in a tideless harbour. All its canvas groans upon the forestays, the ropes creak, the yard-arm bends under the stress of the breeze, and on the stern the steersman gives every rein to the ship, urging her to her briny path. But she nor heeds the helm nor obeys the winds nor is driven by the waves but, fixed fast, remains against her will and is fettered for all her haste, rooted on the mouth of a feeble fish. And the sailors tremble to see the mysterious bonds of the sea, beholding a marvel like unto a dream. As when in the woods a hunter lies in wait for a swift-running Deer and smites her with winged arrow on the leg and stays her in her course; and she for all her haste, transfixed with compelling pain, unwillingly awaits the bold hunter; even such a fetter doth the spotted fish cast about the ship which it encounters, and from such deeds it gets its name."

there are SO many good ones

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a meme of a dog with long caramel and white coloured fur being hit with a large blast of air, so that its fur is blown back and its eyes are scrunched by the force. The text reads "Bad Sex Awards wasnt lying, that Sex scene can Bad.]

[An excerpt from a sex scene. It says "He looks long and lovingly at my wet vagina, saying 'a flower, a jungle flower,' as he caresses one lip and then the other, tweaks my clitoris with his tongue, and lifts his head to declaim rapturously: 'Someday I will paint this jungle flower, this Venus mantrap, but first I will subdue it.' And he plunges into me with his iron stalk, touching my womb again and again until I weep tears of joy. He cannot stop until he has made me come three times and I am quivering from my thighs to my toes and I plead for a rest, a breather, saying, 'Come, come, my love.' At last he ejaculates, shuddering and growling, making the noises of a seal baying at the Arctic moon.

'My slippery seal,' I say, 'my salty sweetheart, my kingdom of the three slipperies.'"]

[A comment by I0ve-for-mutts which says "I don't think this writer knows how a woman's body works".]

[The rest are excerpts from the bad sex awards. They say: the mound of her sex ... was disproportionately - but beautifully - high and rounded, overgrown with a luxuriant mop of long black pubic hair, not crinkly at all, but soft and feathery; and the vulva itself... was of unusual plumpness, almost spherical, like a large exotic mushroom in the fork of a tree, a little pleasure dome if ever I've seen one, where Alph the sacred river ran down to a tideless sea. No, not tideless. Her tides were convulsive, an ebb and flow that could take you very far, far back, before hurling you out, wildly and triumphantly, on a ribbed and windswept beach without end.]

[Her vulva was opposite my face. The small lips protruded slightly from the pale, domed flesh. This sex was watching at me, spying on me, like a Gorgon's head, like a motionless Cyclops whose single eye never blinks. Little by little this silent gaze penetrated me to the marrow. My breath sped up and I stretched out my hand to hide it: I no longer saw it, but it still saw me and stripped me bare (whereas I was already naked). If only I could still get hard, I thought, I could use my prick like a stake hardened in the fire, and blind this Polyphemus who made me Nobody. [...] I came in an immense splash of white light, as she cried out: 'What are you doing, what are you doing?' and I laughed out loud, sperm still gushing in huge spurts from my penis, jubilant, I bit deep into her vulva to swallow it whole, and my eyes finally opened, cleared, and saw everything.]

[oh the sheer ecstasy of lips and tongues on genitals, either simultaneously or in alternation, never will I tire of that silvery fluidity, my sex swimming in joy like a fish in water, my self freed of both self and other, the quivering sensation, the carnal pink palpitation that detaches you from all colour and all flesh, making you see only stars, constellations, milky ways, propelling you bodiless and soulless into undulating space where the undulating skies make your non-body undulate.]

[the flood in her loins washed morals, despair, and all other abstract assessments away in a cloud of some sort of divine cologne of his. Now his big generative jockey was inside her pelvic saddle, riding, riding, riding, and she was eagerly swallowing it swallowing it swallowing it with the saddle's own lips and maw - all this without a word. But then he began moaning.]

[He buried his face into Hannah's c**t like a wanderer who'd found water in the desert. She tasted like a hot biscuit flavoured with pee. She grabbed his scruff and pulled his face to hers. They kissed, and she took his cock - it felt as thick as a Louisville Slugger - and guided him in. When he exploded - and he exploded quickly - he felt - as if his heart had liquefied and then been shot out of him up through her vagina and uterus and her ovaries and up over her diaphragm and somehow down the vena cavity to her heart, his own now coating hers.]

[Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza's body except for the otherwise central zone.]

I’m reading bad sex awards finalists across the years

[independentlyafandom]

Approximation of King Endor’s Decree - or - Chapter Openers In Order

The Years of Rage are ended and nothing can be the same. The war has hollowed the moon and stilled the tides. We must find a simpler way of life. We must retreat into the past, everyone and everything, in its place, in order. Freedom is a small price to pay for survival.

We will choose an Era from the past and re-create it. We will make a world free from change! It will be Paradise!

Our Realm will be splendid. We will live as men should live, and the land will be tilled for us by a million yeomen. Above us the ruined moon will be our emblem of the Years of Rage. It will flicker through the clouds like a lost memory.

You will thank us for this. Energy will not be wasted on frivolous machines. We will learn to live simply, untroubled by jealousies and desires. Our souls will be as placid as the tideless seas.

We forbid growth and therefore decay. Ambition, and therefore despair. Because each is only the warped reflection of the other. Above all, Time is forbidden. From now on nothing will change.

Each man and woman will have their place and be content with it. Because if there is no change, what will disturb our peaceful lives?

The land will be filled with deep forests and dark lanes. A Realm of magic and beauty. A land like those in legends.

My Realm will last forever.

[abraidoffrostandfelt]

Coney Island is magic, even Houdini was drawn back

tied up in time, aren't we all? it is universal then. i see it in your hands, wrapped up in the metal of your work held and then not and there is the flash glare of light, the audience full of stares, the rush of applause, like tidal water taking its time, its pull, the rush and rhythm of it the way it takes you, untied the bare-armed bruise of you revealed, showing that surely nothing concealed was used the human claim calmly upon your wrists now unadorned, your forearms worn in this working toward freedom still catching your breath, your footing found, you step from the stage the adrenaline exhale the width of applause reduced into the narrows with the curtain cornered hallway enclosed the shadow step catwalk way of walls, all velvet and paper postings, the closeness everything so sudden after the stage stretching on, to dressing room, to hotel, to train, to sometimes home though i wonder if you sometimes think this is home and don't we all? ourselves made safe in the steps along the way though you do not say yes or no the secrets keep us all guessing are you keeping them from yourself too? it is understandable, i whisper without understanding at all a way of life, of words swallowed into selves mouths kept closed, of hidden, of hiding safely internal, lines of interest left eternal things whose power lies in their lack of presence the importance of what can be sensed, felt over seeing time and tide and home can be like that too much carried in such small words all easily palmed, pocketed, placed into the unexpected you are playing with them now and you must remember that they are heavy, that they are separate this time or another, the chances and changes in depth shuffled with the sense of home stacked into the fold brought forward in your distances, in your pulses in your wrists undone, the shine of salted water the expectations of freedom trained into your form it all seems so real and that is the point, the plan, is what you want and would you keep the act if it were real? the magic made too easy, anything you can think into being without risk, without practice, just is i think you would miss the skill, the invention, the invitation to become the ownership of the accomplishment the way reality wants to say yes to you the thrill well earned the places where time and home and tide and freedom find themselves together in choice or orchestrated trick, the skills stretched to meet your will pulled back, tied into truth, your pulse flying, the timetable of tide crashing at your feet, stage lights spilling over without a hint of metal or a glint of hidden keys and the action is timeless, is tideless all is still, is faking itself real and home is here and freedom is caught up in your fingers, tossed out into a bow, drawn back and carefully kept the tidal dance dry upon the stage boards your head inclined into the acclaim small words thrown into the sea like coins left to the elements, a gift of transformation and you walk with grace, away into the wings by, earthboundpixie

[bsides-of-roygbiv]

what happens when you let the tide come

nearing the ocean you stop short of the shore and brace yourself for the eventual turning of the tides. the tides are turning and you are standing with your feet in the sand, wondering about particle size, mass, and volume, wondering about the depth of your toes and soles and heels and wondering what’s necessary to catalyze movement and release. the tides begin to turn but then you remember you’ve found yourself at the edge of a tideless sea, and such churning is an imaginary of rotation, how could you ever have known that? so you try to take your feet out of the sand, they’ve been sandsubmerged for some time now. when you try to calculate the amount of minutes seconds hours (measures of movement) you realize the earth has nearly turned one whole rotation, so with your feet still firmly planted (plants, growing. heads, falling) you let your head fall back (off the bed) and scream the air out of your lungs. listen to me, this is the expulsion of the century, the catapult of doom, you’re riding right there with it waving at everyone as you zoom past, all hot breathe, cigarette smoke, amber, and blood rushing past and behind you, she’s yelling about the combinations and their magnificence but words are weightless and they sink into your fingernails that invite anything anything anything into them. you try to lift your feet out of the sand once more, contemplate particle size, think about toe depth, think about earth turnings, tide churnings. look up: the sky is filled with wires, you are filled with noise of unfamiliar varieties and you are soaked saturated submerged in such qualities of strangess. what’s it like to be stuck 800 feet under concrete, rapidly almost always but never really reaching that which you know is directly in front of you? strangeness. concrete submergance. the sand stops to be that which it is and it becomes something which it isn’t but that which it is part of, you are sinking in concrete, the tides are the constant hurling/receding of cars and particle size becomes insignificant as there are none to consider. in your dreams the sand comes back, the particles are bigger this time, and everything around you is on fire, you and them are rapidly rising towards the sky (you’ve been freed, they freed you ) and you’re both watching everything and everyone burn beneath you, billowing smoke moves you further and further away, you are screaming into each others mouths, “fill the crevices, get in my cracks, consume my vacant spaces, occupy that which is vacuous, i love you i love you, please fill me”. the sky has come to an end and you can not rise any further, you are awake now and the sand again loses its particle constitution, you displace apostrophes and move the parentheses and overhead, again, hangs the wires and underneath holds the coming and goings, hundreds of millions of pounds of stuff hurling forward and backwards, meanwhile you are without recourse to movement. you are without recourse to movement. recourse to movement? look towards they sea, they said. just cut the tree down, look straight ahead, and go ahead, jump right in. particle constitution. trees. unimaginable unmovement and unthinking and unbreathing, i am undone. i’m not done, i never was, and i never will be (finish). lift my feet out of the sand, head back towards the sky, the magnificent expulsion empties you out and makes you clean again. but, what do i do once i’m free, once i can move away from the shore, what do i do when i can understand the true nature of feetsand fitting, of particle constitution, of all the substance in the tides and all that you left behind when you left (left, back, up, come back double speed, triple volume). in the morning the sun hits your weak and shriveled feet and you kiss them 800 times, and stack your vertebrae on top of them and you know that you must do something with this kind of permission (a premonition). you leave. you are hopelessly trapped inside of the overhead wires, screaming back at the tides and their churning and their substance and their particles and their constitution. and the wires eat you. when you are dead you realize that all you had to do was go back. go back. return. backwards movement must resist the categorizations below those integers you needed needed needed to get. resist the categories, go back, you are free, and you can move in this way. HEY.

[tripstations]

Top 5 adventure activities in Malawi (beyond safaris)

Although visitors look to most African destinations primarily for their safari experiences, there are plenty of other great outdoor and water-based adventure activities on offer, and Malawi is one country that has a surprisingly wide choice of activities available to enjoy despite its relatively small size.

The calm, clear waters of Lake Malawi are a great lure and there is plenty of opportunity to experience the lake more closely – either on it or in it. Thankfully, though, despite all the leisure activities, the most common sight on the lake is still that of a fisherman in a dugout canoe! The main lakeshore hotels and lodges have most activities on offer either directly or through specialist water sports operators. Prices are not unreasonable and whilst advance booking is advisable, it’s not always necessary. Elsewhere, Malawi’s diverse and lush forested highlands offer wonderful terrain and scenery to explore on foot or even from a seated position! Forest lodges will happily guide their guests to the best trails for exploring the landscapes, even providing the necessary support for multi-day excursions. And some offer bikes or horses as alternative means of transport!

Climbing, hiking and walking

Rock climbing is largely restricted to Mount Mulanje where a number of little-used routes up the great granite faces offer experienced climbers a variety of challenges. For the less hard-core, there are plenty of fascinating and beautiful hikes and walks. Walks through all of the national parks and wildlife reserves are popular for game viewing but hiking is generally done in the cool, shady forests on the hills and plateaux.

Malawi’s very own ‘mountain in the sky’, Mulanje, is actually a massif covering some 250 square miles with multiple peaks, the highest of which touches 10,000 ft. There is a large area that can be covered on foot and Mulanje has a network of huts for intrepid explorers to stay in. Marked paths offer a variety of routes and guides and/or porters can be hired cheaply. Nyika Plateau is less rugged but walking is undoubtedly one of the best ways to explore this unique and wildlife-rich wilderness. There are marked trails for those prepared to hike and camp for a few days. They cover the various peaks and valleys whilst offering chances to encounter the animals in the park close at hand. Though not quite as high as Nyika, Viphya Plateau is now proving popular. Most of the area is forested by either plantation or indigenous woodland, including tropical rainforest. One trail begins at Luwawa, crosses the Viphya and descends the escarpment, arriving at the lakeshore after four days of hiking. The serene forests, hills and streams of Zomba Plateau, and the views from it, offer another attraction for walkers. Other forest reserves such as Dzalanyama and Ntchisi also provide pleasant walks through shady environments, usually with excellent birdlife.

Boats trips and watersports

Boats of all sizes are available on Lake Malawi, offering simple individual hire, short pleasure trips or full cruises lasting some days. Simple daytime hire is possible of everything from pedalos and canoes to outboard dinghies and sailing boats. Kayaking is particularly popular, thanks in no small part to the Kayak Africa operation in the Lake Malawi National Park. Sea-going kayaks are used to paddle to luxury camps on the deserted islands in the park. The tide- and current-free waters make for good sailing and a few small sail boats are available for hire and use. Accomplished sailors could even enter the Lake Malawi Yachting Marathon. This international event runs in July and is known as the longest freshwater sailing event in the world. It consists of a series of daily stages, beginning in the south, and ending a week later in the north.

For a simple organised pleasure trip of up to a few hours there is a choice of destinations – places of interest along the shore, or small islands just offshore. Traditional wooden fishing boats or modern fibreglass speed boats are available. There can be minimum or maximum numbers for these excursions and some include snorkelling or fishing along the way. If only one pleasure trip is to be taken, it should be out to the waters of the Lake Malawi National Park. Brightly coloured fish are easily visible through the crystal clear water, and are eager to swarm round, and feed from, any hand placed in the water holding suitable food.

Leisurely cruises on larger boats can also be arranged from the main hotels ��� to last hours or days. There are scheduled trips by motor launch and occasional sailing cruises. Short ‘sundowner’ trips are very popular but longer, daytime cruising can be complemented by diving, snorkelling or swimming and even overnight beach camping.  Perhaps the ultimate journey on the lake is on the Ilala, a large motorised vessel offering a scheduled ferry service up and down the lake. This is a functional ship much used by local people, but also offers passage and cabin accommodation to tourists. Facilities for sailboarding, parasailing, paddle boarding and water skiing are all available at the main lakeshore establishments and are often included for guests, or relatively inexpensive. Experience is not required and basic tuition is available.

Horse riding

Horse safaris used to be available in the Nyika National Park but that operation has now ceased and currently, none of Malawi’s wildlife reserves or national parks offer safaris on horseback. But there are still a few stables around the country that offer the chance to experience Malawi’s beautiful and diverse landscapes from the back of a horse.

At Kande, on the northern shore of Lake Malawi, is a wonderful stables that offers rides into and around the nearby indigenous forest, as well as through local villages and on to the lake beaches, where there is an opportunity to ride into the water! The stables on Zomba Plateau, similarly offer rides through the forest and an alternative way to explore this beautiful highland that used to be said to have ‘the best views in the British Empire’. And on the Viphya Plateau, a new network of trails is being developed to allow treks lasting a number of days, to complement the existing short rides currently on offer across the highlands and through the forests.

Diving and sorkelling

The clear, calm, warm, shark-free and tideless waters with abundant populations of brightly coloured tropical fish (up to 1000 species) make Lake Malawi a great place to dive. Visibility can reach 30 metres at the best times of year (August to December). Even simple snorkelling gives good results in the right places.

Malawi has a few dive centres and, as well as casual dives, one to six day courses are available with professional tuition and PADI certification. Alternatively, sailing tours can be taken to incorporate day or night dives. In the Lake Malawi National Park, Otter Point and the eastern tip of West Thumbi Island have underwater trails worth investigating, though the fish can be seen throughout the Lake.

Cycling

The change in scene over relatively short distances, and the varied terrain, make Malawi a great country for cycling. The generally good tar of the main roads allow for cycling tours around the country over a few days, for example, along the lakeshore. More challenging mountain biking is provided in the forests and on the plateaux. Most of the lodges in the forested highlands offer mountain bikes for hire and there is an increasing number of trails to explore. Mulanje is the exception, but mountain bilking can be enjoyed at Zomba, Viphya, Nyika and Ntchisi.

Kelly White is Director of the Malawi Travel Marketing Consortium. Malawi Travel Marketing Consortium aims to provide you with the best information to make Malawi your tourism destination.

If you would like to be a guest blogger on A Luxury Travel Blog in order to raise your profile, please contact us.

The post Top 5 adventure activities in Malawi (beyond safaris) appeared first on Tripstations.

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[creepy-crowleys]

In recent years, the sword was found once more, plucked from the sea by doomed fishermen lost in a storm and lighting their way back home. But the story did not end there. The sword changed hands - from sailor, to teacher, to trickster, to King anew - and was once more lost to the tides of time. But the story did not end there.

Featuring: @thetopben @witchofthescions @strikingskeletonsiege

[creepy-crowleys]

[A video is posted of a sky, black and churning as the waves beneath it. The wind howls and the sea roars and half-formed figure dance across the sheets of pounding rain. In the flashes of lightning, the weed-choked waters become a writhing mass, slick black tendrils slipping through the gore of a millennia of lost ships like eels, and back again before the mind can fully appreciate the rotted husks of the damned. The tideless, timeless sea and nothing more.

And at the heart, an eye, a maw, a gyre, a gaping wound where the storm clouds part and foreign stars shine down with an alien light. Stone spires, like teeth, push up through the waves, waiting and hungry amidst misted visions of coiled streets and twisted homes. An electric pressure prickles the nerves even through the screen, ozone and sea and sick-sweet rot tinging the air. Somewhere, somehow, predators are watching.

Crowley cackles, low and dangerous with the arrival of the long-needed breakthrough, barely audible over the storm.]

That did it.

[creepy-crowleys]

This is the constellation Cetus, the Whale or the Sea Monster:

There are some distinct similarities with the layout of our stabilized region:

I think we might be on the right track here. The lighthouses are designed to be linked - several of them already are to boost the fields between them, just not quite in the right configuration. If they're linked up correctly

A Door should be opened. The Red Sargassum Dream. It

It might take a day or two to set up, but hopefully, hopefully we'll see some kind of result from this.

[creepy-crowleys]

They’re alive.

The people that escaped the Nivienne. They were rescued months ago. Most of them. They

The Engine is functioning as it should. We Everyone’s safe. I think. Or

[creepy-crowleys]

((Thinking...))

((I think I'm getting to the point where I'm just ready for this arc to end. Heh...

So the tentative plan is this: The idea of writing out the finale is killing me more than anything else at the moment, so I might go with drawing a couple pieces for the final bosses instead. Maybe try to get in the puzzle(?) idea I was playing with beforehand too. It's... probably not much of a puzzle really, especially when I was thinking of doing some circuit puzzles for the lighthouses too and those... never got drawn.

Anyway. Three-ish drawings. Can hopefully manage that in a timely basis.

And that brings us to the other reason for this post: Would anyone want to join in for the boss fights? Crowley'd be willing to potentially accept a small group of experienced fighters to help out, with preferences towards people she knows well and has fought alongside before.))

Further details on boss encounters under cut

((There are two bosses I'm playing with, fought separately, one right after the other: Mother Hydra and the Manifestation of the Red Sargassum.

Mother Hydra I'm planning to be a mostly underwater fight with a very big, angry fish monster. Toying with imagery of viperfish, anglerfish (with attached males), termite queens, and wasp-parasitized caterpillars (with the little cocoon poking out). Potentially able to produce a siren song to temporarily subdue targets, but mostly just big and toothy and full of young. (Kind of like the idea of her being responsible for all the eels in the world.) Probably a pretty straightforward fight though?

The Manifestation of the Red Sargassum fight would still be technically underwater, but so long as it's active the space would take on a dreamlike quality and not really apply so much. Less resistant than water, floatier than air, just the dream. It's very presence is a crushing pressure and an almost irresistible force of will, and it will poke and prod and sift through the memories and very selves of anyone in its presence. People not from its dream - anyone from outside of the Secret World - will be of particular interest to it. Big Cthulhu-esque monster (see Draug Lords, Ur-draug, and Unutterable Lurker), though hard to get a good look at with the dark and fog and shifting nature of the dream. Crowley will probably play a more supportive role in this fight, keeping the arena anchored and allies buffed and protected, akin to the Varangian in the final fight of the Darkness War.

Post-Battle at a minimum, Crowley'll fiddle with the Engine and snap the Sargasso Sea back to the way it's supposed to, and then she's probably gonna be fried for at least the rest of the day. I'd considered having the Phoenicians rush in to try to take advantage of everyone being drained from the fights to take prisoners and get their hands on Excalibur, but I don't know if that'd be something anyone's interested in? Something to worry about later, probably.))

[creepy-crowleys]

Good afternoon. My head is still pounding, but I'm clearer today.

So. Postmortem.

The affected region of the Sargasso Sea is in recovery. Most of the islands that had manifested in the fog have dissipated along with it, and much of the tainted Red Sargassum has been burned away. Small pockets are expected to remain, and anomalous activity is predicted to still occur within the area if within acceptable limits.

The Sargasso will remain a place of haunting myths and tales of sea monsters. But hopefully far fewer of them with the teeth to actually cause much harm.

The Draug and Deep One community on and surrounding Solomon Island is recovering. They suffered some feedback from the suppression of their god, but their connection had already frayed to the point that it didn't affect them as deeply as it could have.

The Engine's cleansing protocols are expected to have destroyed a significant portion of the Sargasso Sea populations. Their vast majority of their bodies are so contaminated by Filth that, once its purged from an area, they are no longer capable of survival without it. We expect there to be surviving population clusters that fell just outside lethal levels of infection, as well as any populations that are simply out of this particular Engine's range.

These are considered acceptable. I. Personally have no particular desire to see the populations wiped out in their entirety. Whatever their origins, the genie is out of the bottle now.

We recovered Excalibur from the depths. The Dream had claimed it in hopes that its champion would unlock its prison instead of renewing its bindings.

It's quieted now. For now. My teeth ache still.

The office is negotiating with Avalon on the terms of returning the sword. Whatever happens with it is out of my hands.

At least I actually got to hold it this time, haha...!

I'll probably be dealing with write-ups and reports for the next while, but it'll be nice to at least be home most of the time.

[creepy-crowleys]

[A discordant hum became a roar became a melody. A lullaby sublime, perfect in every measure, rules and codes and processes encoded in notes. Instructions on the weaving of a world from a mind pressed back into dormancy, the shapes of its untamed dreams forced back into compliance.

The repair process took place in an barely observable instant, time and space snapped back into place like the spiraling, cancerous growths had never been formed with only the odd few new islands scattered across patches of red-brown weed to mark the scars.

The outsiders were ejected in the collapse, back to the safety of wherever they had come and away from a world uncertain on how to write them into itself. Passageways to spaces no longer existent were severed in the expulsion; nothing more to see.]

[creepy-crowleys]

I think.

We might have something. Finally.

This is a portion of the Sargasso Sea where we've been working. The marked islands are all ones that possess one of the lighthouses we've been using as reality anchors in the region, with the one nearest the center being our primary base of operations.

The further from the anchors you go, the less consistently time and space behave - denoted by the static. Our instruments can't get reliable reads on those areas and the exact positioning of landmarks or whether landmarks even exist - can vary wildly.

That isn't the important part. I think.

I think the important part is in the islands we have anchored. There's a pattern there.

[creepy-crowleys]

[A collection of photos are posted of the water beneath the surface of the Sargasso Sea.

In stark contrast to the dense fog above the waves, the waters below are crisp and clear. Shafts of light that manage to penetrate the mist and seaweed mats illuminate corpse-like hulls of ships and subs and aircraft meters below, wreathed in alien corals and growths - strange and otherworldly compared to even other marine environments. Shimmering points of light glow - like stars, like eyes - from depths where, even here, the daylight above fails to penetrate, and it's all too easy to conjure the outlines of great and terrible creatures in the distant dark.

Further photos are attached of a few of the wrecks, gutted and skeletal, and blistered with oily black pustules.

Some of the strange growths appear to have ruptured, blooming like diseased flowers from tattered remains of uniforms and crumbling, barnacle-crusted bone.]

Sargasso Sea, under the Sargassum and lost ships

Some old draug brood pods and Deep One egg cases, more detail below cut

[Below the cut are a handful of photos of the contents of a couple of the egg cases that failed to develop maturity, Crowley having cut them open to display the long-dead, half-formed creatures inside: The draug a clumsy attempt at building a human from repurposed marine parts, the Deep One an embryonic fish-like creature with clear - if underdeveloped at the time of its death - limbs, like a tadpole caught in transition to being a frog.]